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Showing posts from April, 2011

Easter Sunday leftovers

My friend Tina used to blog almost every Monday and she called it Sunday Morning leftovers. I liked the concept because to do it she would have to actually go to church, pay attention, make sure she got something out of it and chew on it that afternoon or the next day enough to write about it. However, I take my kids to church with me which honestly means I am often doing anything but listening when it comes time for the sermon or “telling” as Owen likes to call it. (probably because I’m also telling him to be quiet or not color in the hymnals). And I know it is well past Monday, but I’m going to give it a shot anyways.

And this Sunday was Easter and that usually means a crowded parking lot and a big show with special music. And I have to be honest. I don’t really like a show. We got to church on time (and usually we are at least a hymn late). But on time on Easter Sunday is not early enough to park in the parking lot or get a seat inside the sanctuary. And I kind of refuse to go to c…

The Easter Story according to Paul

Nope. not the actual Paul in the bible.
Another one. A friend of mine's husband. And in addition to having a pretty creative and funny hubs -- she has two amazing twin girls. That have babysat my kids, eaten fondue and mexican food with me. Drank lots of coffee. Talked, math, physics, music and jesus with me. And now they are Sophomores in college. But once they were little and too smart for their pretty little heads and asked all kinds of silly questions. Like my son. And i'm sure this story is made up. But probably not that made up. And it's kind of long (have you ever tried telling a story to little girls!)...but worth the read.

Easter as a Bedtime story for K&K
“Girls, do you know what tomorrow is?”

“And what is special about Easter?”
“The Easter Bunny brings us Chocolate Bunnies, and Chocolate Eggs, and Toothpaste, and Stuff!” said Katie.
“And my basket has milk chocolate eggs and bunnies,” said Keeley, “while Katie’s basket has dark chocolate eggs a…

three times is all it takes for me to take a hint

Yesterday I got an email from a friend with this link:

Telling me to read it. And she usally passes on only the good stuff but, I had a crazy busy day. Meeting after meeting. Papers to grade. Husband out of town. Not nearly enough sleep. And some looming deadlines.
So I didn't click right away.

Then not too long later I got the same link emailed from another friend. But they both know each other and I figured they had just sent it to each other, and kept passing it on.
But this time I bit. I clicked. And saw this picture.

And if you have ever been in my house or seen my desk or met my daughter....maybe it wouldn't take much to look at this mess and think of me.  (and I've been known to hide under a desk or two).
But still. My day was busy. I was reviewing like crazy for some big tests coming up and didn't take time to actually read the post. But I love me some Tina Fey and a good mess so I pa…

writing bad blog posts

I belong to a writing group. And they are all better at it than me. Most have had things published or at least have their feet in the real writing world while I just type away on my laptop while my kids watch cartoons.  Some of them have written for magazines, newspapers, taught writing classes, workshops and show up to our meetings with manuscripts in hand, while most of the time I have to ask if I can borrow a pen. And we try to hold each other accountable for writing. For posting. For improving. For moving forward. We make goals and check in each month or so. And there are much more to our goals than post numbers. And thankfully no one makes goals that have to do with stats or comments or followers….but we go around the room and they say things like 4 posts per week. And I say 10. Thinking it will be easy for me. Because usually it is. But not lately. And I do everything fast. I read fast. I write fast. I hit publish or send fast. Which means I am messy and sloppy and have errors and …

He gets it from me

Have I ever mentioned that my kid is funny.
Really funny.
Sometimes even on purpose.

Here are a few of the conversations we have had just this week.

earlier this week when he only made it half into pjs and wandered in the living room to watch some cartoons.
Dad: Put some pants on kid, no one wants to see your junk.

O: That’s not junk. Those are my private parts.
Me: Keep them that way kid.
this morning before school....
O: I’m tired. I need to get better sleep.
Dad: Go to bed earlier then.
O:That’s not it. I need a tipperpedic. (as in temperpedic mattress).

the other day on the way home from school
O: My teacher says you should even brush your dog’s teeth.
Me: We have a dog toothbrush somewhere. Have at it kid.
O: I already used Tess’s.

The spirit of the game

Somewhere in the attic is a yellow pinstriped shirt with a front pocket. In which I kept a little black wallet with a red and yellow card. I have long since lost my line flags, but still have and occasional wear the knee high black socks with the tell-tale white stripes across the top.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I used to ref. Soccer. And I was pretty bad at it and mostly only reffed 12 and under games or college intermurals. But I had the uniform and the whistle and my very own stopwatch and the power to make a break a game for a team.

And they don’t give just anyone that yellow shirt (actually anyone can buy one), but you have to take a class and pass a test to earn your badge. Or get official jobs. And there are forms to fill out with every game. And you get an awful knee tan. And everyone pretty much hates you. The only plus was a decent workout and some cash in your hand at the end of the day.

My days reffing taught me a few things:
That the angles on the field and the …

this is my sad face

We don’t have to live very long before we experience disappointment. I seem to disappoint my kids at least a dozen times a day. They don’t always get to watch cartoons, or to eat candy, to play on my phone or to stay up as late as they want. Most of these decisions are made out of the best interest and safety of my child, rather than what they want temporarily. But sometimes I really disappoint. I forget dress up day. Or am late to a game. Or I say things I wish I hadn’t.

I am a lot older than my kids and at least slightly more mature, but I still find myself disappointed over the same types of things. Not necessarily the lack of cartoons or candy, but over not getting what I want or things going quite as I planned. God, of course, always has a better plan than the one I came up with, but in the moment (and sometimes even the weeks or seasons that follow), it is so hard to remember. Nothing feels worse than being disappointed by someone you love, but it always happens. Spouses drop th…

2 letters and a playlist

and just because i think my kids are the cutest...


In high school and college when I had to write papers, I almost never read them through before turning them in. I was afraid that I’d see too many errors and have to spend even longer fixing them. So I just hit print (or ripped it out of my spiral) and hoped for the best.
Usually when I send emails or texts I just hit send without a preview. I’ve been known to even send them to the wrong people. Regularly.
I am not a big editor. In the sense that I think spell check is going to catch enough. I don’t use a thesaurus. I don’t cut enough. I write in fragments. I start half my sentences with the word and or but. I use too many be verbs. I never refer to MLA or whoever makes the grammar rules these days. I like ellipses. When I write I try to get it all out as fast as I can and then I hit post before I change my mind. I have never been a detail girl and figure if you can get my point that is good enough for this girl with a couple of science degrees. ( and maybe this is why I still have my …