The Parking Situation

As I write this blog entry, I am sitting in the middle row of my mini-van with a cozy blanket and my mp3 player, listening to Bieber Christmas. Just in case my laptop loses power before school dismisses in an hour, I have packed snacks and a reading book. It’s raining here in Huntington Beach. When it rains, school dismissal is obnoxious. I admit that I am not a strong driver. I do not like making last minute decisions like “Should I drive through that puddle or slam on my brakes and splash the pedestrians on the sidewalk?” I play it safe and arrive early so we (the kiddos of the carpool that I affectionately call “Make Way for Ducklings”) can walk a short distance to my car and I can just hit the slider door button and they can rush in. I don’t like crossing busy streets with that many kids. I only have 2 hands. It looks weird holding onto 2 hoods with one hand and a backpack of another.
Last time it rained, I could have just driven around the neighborhood, gone home, parked in front of my house and then walked to school. It would have been closer than the parking spot that I took. Water rushing on both sides of the street made it difficult to even cross to get onto the sidewalk. I made it to the front of the school but once I got the kids and we made the return trip to the car, it became somewhat of a challenge. We attempted to cross the street, but the kids ended up in water to their shins. The current almost took them away and a stranger, teenager…or just a strange teenager ran over to grab the littlest one and carry her to safety…in the MIDDLE of the street where there was a small pathway of road that was dry. So we walked to the car in the middle of the street. I had them by their backpacks and jackets. The bus was driving slowly behind us.

I am determined not to ever repeat that day again. And so I sit here….2nd car in line to the school ready to grab those kids and make our get-away in dry socks and without assistance from strangers.

On un-rainy days, the parking situation can also be a bit hairy. There are so many cars! There is no parking! I still come early. I don’t mind sitting in my car. I like to craft. It gets me away from my sweat-shop sewing that I’ve been doing lately. I can’t use my machine in the car…but now that I am utilizing the back of the car for blogging, I think that I can possibly set it up in here. OMG! I know where my new craft room is going to be now!!!!!!

Here are a few items that I have made while waiting in my car for the kids:

Cute Halloween ornaments:


Cute peacock ornaments:


A pretty necklace:


I've even cut paper kimonos (and got a bestie to help me) as we sat and waited at soccer practice:

Extreme Couponing????!!!!!!

I know, I know. Those people, generally women, on that Extreme Couponing show are CRAZY! I am amazed at how much they get for a "dollar" as well as how much they can store behind their tv and above their book shelves.

A year ago, we had a little family crisis that threatened our expendable budget. The future was unknown regarding my husband's job and that was the gentle hand that guided our family to more practical spending. Less frequent dinners out. No new clothes. I searched for more budget-friendly bean and rice based meals. I also started to clip coupons.

At first, I was just excited that I was able to remember to use the coupon that I clipped. My excitement led me to stacking coupons, using the manufacturer and store coupons together to get almost double the savings. Now I've stepped it up a notch and I've been watching sales. I've been pleased with what I've been able to find on sale that I can use my coupons with.

Yesterday I went to Vons. Not my favorite place to shop, but they had what I wanted on sale. Not 10 minutes in the store and this is what I came out with for just under $9:
2 boxes of Fruit Gushers, 2 boxes of Nature Valley granola bars, A box of Honey Nut Cherrios, A 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper, a bag of Kettle brand potato chips, 4 lb. bag of C&H granulated sugar, and a bottle of 409 kitchen cleaning solution. It was like shopping at the dollar store, but coming out with "better" stuff!!!!!

I have to say. Saving money can be fun and now that I am the official manager of the household, it feels good knowing that I am saving money so we can do MORE fun stuff, like pay our library fines or plop pennies into the fountain at the mall.

Just a small facet of our new lifestyle. I love that we are teaching our kids to use their money wisely. They are by no means, poor starving boys. They still get a good meal and junk food. We still step foot into McDonald's on occasion.....but they know that it will always be with a coupon.

A Little Note About Eggs....and other stuff

The economy is bad. The budget is small. As you may have read in previous posts, our family has been transitioning into self-sufficiency. We have organic produce growing in our garden. We compost. We don't use the tv or internet on Sundays. We force our kids to fly kites and run around at these grassy places called parks. Our sons DON'T have cell phones! (Last week I lectured them all on how to make an emergency collect call from a pay phone-if they can find one) I've been teaching myself to sew...my own clothes. Our greatest joy, lately, has been the lovely eggs that one of our hens has been leaving us just about every day. I call her Fluffy-butt, but in my mind I have named her Mother Clucker (I don't say it out loud anymore because it would be considered a little inappropriate...so my 14-year-old says).




The eggs are brown and smaller than the grade-A extra large Costco beauties, but whatever, they are NOT from Norco and they taste better. The ritual is that we wait for an awful sound coming from the back yard (to which even the bunny is confused by because she always stops, stares at me, and gives me this look that I interpret as, "WHAAAAAATTTTT???!!!!") and then all go running to the coop and lift the nesting box and either go back to the house sad, but with anticipation that she will lay soon, or happy with a little, warm, tan egg in-hand. Those waiting days are pretty pathetic. Usually 3 of us stand looking out through the patio door and 1 of us leaves crusty finger and lip marks all over the glass.

Today was an especially "fun" day because we had our first tragedy. Yes, we were excited! Yes, we ran to the coop. The little guy held the egg so gently all the way to the kitchen, but by some divine inspiration from the egg-laying-god, he decided that jumping up and down would be a suitable activity. So the egg was jostled in his tiny hands until it dropped and cracked on the tile.

Needless to say, he had a scrambled egg for breakfast....and proclaimed, "tastes just like a REAL egg."

The Huxtable Experiment

Problem/Question: Does Huxtable discipline work in "the real world"?

Observation/Research: I have watched many episodes of The Cosby Show and have found similarities between the Huxtable family and my own. I have noted that when there is a dilemma, Claire and Heathcliff resort to routine problem-solving skills.

Formulate a Hypothesis: Maybe, but not always within the 30-minute time frame of an episode. 20 minutes if you count the commercials.

Experiment: Over a short period of time (1 day) I have applied the discipline method of Claire and Heathcliff Huxtable with my own children. Patience, kindness, love, self-control...blah, blah...all the Fruits of the Spirit...then also included a smirk on my face and a bit of silliness such as wide-eyed eye-dancing and talking slowly with solid word-enunciation.

Collect and Analyze Results: The subjects responded well to the discipline. There was less grumbling and arguing. In the case of the teenager, it was not quite as simple to get positive feedback. Even with extra "love" (very scientific), there was some resentment in having to do the dishes twice in one day but they got done. With the 5-year-old, a lack of sleep may have effected the outcome of his response when asked to turn off the X-Box. Although he did turn it off, there was a bit of sulking and a few tears shed...not a normal response for this subject.

Conclusion: Yes, Huxtable discipline can work. It it effective. More research needs to be done when having to discipline 5 children at a time. I only have 3.


So I just used the "Scientific Method" to try to remind myself that there really is a way to discipline my boys through love and patience and I was reminded of this while watching The Cosby Show with my boys. I always "got" the Huxtable family. They were perfect, but in an imperfect way. Take away their professions as a doctor and a lawyer...Take away their fancy brownstone house...and what is left is a normal family, just like my own. I've sewed the ugly shirt, the boys have fought so badly that they should have been locked in the basement like Vanessa and Rudy. The lies that kids tell to cover their butts, the messy rooms, and the funeral for the goldfish....it all really does happen.

I love the Huxtables! I love sharing The Cosby Show with my boys and husband. I love being reminded that the issues of "real life" really do have solutions and that they not always easy to find. I love that there can be evenings when you send all of your kids to bed and you can lay in your own bed with your Honeybee and can have a discussion, turn off the lights, kiss each other "good-night", and then fall asleep in an embrace and with a smile on your face.

Half-Baked

I am sure you have no idea what this blog entry is about. I am sure that it will shock you when you realize that I am writing about my kids. But before you move on to MSN's Wonderwall of celebrity pictures, give my story a shot.

My friend Mari and I took our kids to the beach today. It was beautiful. Our boys played in the surf and sand, as most normal kids do, but then there was "the visitor" that accompanied. Needless to say, there is always DRAMA when Mari and I are together, but this day's DRAMA came from one sole source....."the visitor". A bee sting, a cut on the ankle, and then a few flips and turns in the waves. Mindless sand catapulting from his shovel at our own kids as well as other unsuspecting beach-goers. He was a little immature, but he was having the time of his life. So Mari and I sat there attentive to his every move because it didn't seem like enough assurance that the lifeguard was just 20 feet away. While all the other boys dug in the sand or kicked around the soccer ball, he kept busy making sure that we were watching him brave the waves that crashed on top of him but mostly, swept him off his feet. This boy is almost 9 years old, but had the heart, soul, and smile of a 5-year old.

So the part about being half-baked, I think that many of us moms see our kids and we think, "normal" or "perfect" or sometimes "better". But I will admit that there are so many times in which I thought to MYSELF, "immature", "behind", and "slow". Half-baked doesn't mean to be lacking in brain cells. We don't ever call a half-baked potato mentally deficient. If your chicken roast is half-baked, it just means that it isn't done yet. It hasn't reached its full-cooked maturity. It just needs more time.

So, for all of those times in which I thought to myself that my children seemed a little awkward, maybe less mature than their peers, or even outright annoying, it was mostly because they were just half-baked...and not quite ready for the situation at-hand. I am learning though, because I have had 3 times the opportunities to be a good mom and have failed many, many times. You learn so much more from your failures (and that is why I write a blog filled with my advice of what NOT to do). Expectations are good, but they are so much better when they are realistic. It leads to less half-baked moments. I have also learned that comparison of my kids leads to, well, comparison and that can be hurtful to my kids.

There is nothing more sobering than having a half-baked moment yourself. I have them quite often, which leads me to think that I might be drinking alcohol instead of water, but that can't be because I don't have a job to pay for my Top Ramen, let-alone alcohol. As you may recall, fell under the trash bin and I vaccumed my hair and most recently, I took a tumble down my hallway that led to some kickin' bruises all along my left side. I have had many half-baked moments and have learned from them. When I taught the algebra classes at a middle school, I didn't know algebra. I was half-baked. I was almost there. I taught myself and became a master blackbelt of the quadratic equation. But that didn't mean that I wasn't humbled by some nice questions about how a vertical line couldn't be a function....blah, blah, algebranese.

So please don't think I am insensitive when I call your kid half-baked. I would just be stating that there might be some growing up to. Maybe an observation that the situation may be a bit much for him/her to handle for their age or ability. We all know that kids have growing up to do, right? How else are they going to be perfectly mature adults....

You know what? I think I'll just keep my mouth shut and not say anything...but if you see my eyes rolling to the back of my head, it probably means that someone around me seems a little half-baked.

Thoughts From My Experience of Being Pinned Under a Trash Bin

I sit here, typing an entry because I am too sore to do anything else. I tried and FAILED miserably at completing a SUPERWOMAN task yesterday that has left me bruised, bare-knuckled, and unable to bend.

It may be that I am in my 30's and have this grand desire to be "the best" at everything. I may be trying to overcome these things called "age" and "growing up". It may be that I am tired of certain people telling me that I am a "wimp" (this list includes a parental unit and at least one offspring, just to mention a couple). For whatever reason, I thought that I was strong enough to roll out the 200 pound trash bin and, with no luck, ended up on the concrete pinned under it.

So, screaming like a baby I cried for anyone. My husband was at work, my oldest son was away at camp, my middle son was in the bathroom, and the little guy was busy eating his cereal. There is no neighbor living next door to us. The side gate was left open with a clear view to the neighbor across the street and I imagine that they could have been taking pictures or laughing at my expense, but it was obvious that no one heard me at 7:30 in the morning. I mustered up what strength I had left and was able to lift the top of the bin off my chest and shimmy-ed my way out from under the dirt and weeds.

Superwoman, I am not. I have learned an important lesson. It is my husband's job to take out the heavy trash...and he does it so gracefully (part of the reason why I thought that it would be a "cake" job). I think that I just need to suck it up and live with my gold-plated, "wimp" crown on my head and enjoy NOT taking out the heavy trash. I have found other things that I can be "SUPER" at. I make "SUPER" greeting cards and "SUPER" pillow covers. My son loves my "SUPER" chicken soup and my husband loves my "SUPER"-toned thighs. I happen to think that I have a "SUPER" singing voice but save it for car rides and showers. I actually am striving just to be normal....Normal would be pretty "SUPER"!

So if you are interested in taking advice from a 30-something that is struggling to be normal, I'd say, "Don't get pinned under the garbage and remember to turn off the vacuum before you lean down to grab the pencil under the bed."

Time Warp

I haven't blogged in a while. I've been a little caught up in my little time-warp. It started with the garden....it grew to having chickens, and now, we have technology holidays on Sunday. Just yesterday, I was thinking, "Where did those overalls go? I could really use them right now. Hee-haw!"

These technology holidays consist of us not watching tv or using the internet. My husband and I turn off our cell phones and we use as little electricity as possible. We don't consider ourselves Amish....yet. We still use our fridge and enjoy the blessings of what Thomas Edison gave us every time we switch on a light. We do though, try to use natural light as long as we can and spend time outside. Last night we tried to play Yatzee by candlelight until I couldn't handle the flickers of the candles anymore(They were messing with my one good eye).

As we continue to thrive through this simple life for one day of our week, we have found that it has brought us closer together. We spend time gardening as a family. We have been eating lunch together. The kids have more interaction with each other...or fighting, if that's what you want to call it. We all pick up these spinal-bound things called books and magazines. Maybe it's out of sheer boredom, but everyone is about ready to go to sleep once the sun goes down.

A day of rest. Be it Biblical, or just to get back to a more simple life, it has been refreshing. We were able to survive without 4G and Survivor at one point in our lives. Our family plans ahead on most weekends (Friday and Saturday) to complete as much work for meals and house-cleaning so we can concentrate on what is most important: Our relationships with each other and our devotion to the One that gave us each day to live.

So...if you see my green light on my profile picture on FaceBook on a Sunday, I might have some explaining to do.

Homesteading

Every morning I walk into the living room and I stare at the yard. For many years it was concrete slabs. Then it turned into a dirt-biker's heaven. After years of neglect, we have finally brought some life back into our outdoor space. It started with 2 planter beds. Our first season gave us corn, an abundance of broccoli with worms, and zucchini. It was amazing that we could actually take care of this living-breathing plant life. Our garden is increasing and over-filling our planters. We plant in buckets, straight into the ground and now, have added a 3rd planter bed.

Through this year transition, we have also gained a compost box and 3 chickens. It is not unusal to see the entire family out in the yard on the weekend: my husband and me, all 3 boys, 3 chickens, and the sassy bunny. Not everyone enjoys being outside, and eventually my oldest son and the bunny go and hide somewhere else, but it has become a relaxing and family-oriented ritual.




Just the other day I was replanting the potatoes and got so excited about the numerous worms that kept appearing. My husband must have felt my excitement because he told me that we could take a worm census (Yes, an actual count of worm members in our garden, and probably just as accurate as the US census).

Today I noticed the dirt stains around my nails and I was sad for a moment. Normally when I see that much dirt, it's in my boys' nails and I get so grossed out, but this is something natural. It is something that I should be proud of. I may need to scrub better in the shower from now on, but I know that I am doing my part to increase the oxygen supply around my home as well as to lessen my little carbon footprint on this earth.

Homesteading has been a most humbling experience for me. Normally I would not be caught dead sweeping up chicken poop from the patio....who would? I am constantly dirty, which some of you know, will effect my showering habits. An extra shower on some days, one less on another....but I still maintain a 100% average on my New Year's resolution to shower every day. We eat from the garden which is more nutritious than the items that they grow in the chip aisle of Target or even the bulk bins at Sprouts. I am learning to make nice with animals that eat everything beautiful in my garden. Somebunny keeps sneeking under the netting to eat the cilantro, but I have learned to live with that cycle of life. In return for my kindness, I get a little nip on the cuff of my pants as I water the buckwheat. She speaks to me in her silent way saying something like, "I forgive you. You are not so bad either. Keep those chickens away from me!"

So it's a step back in time, this homesteading. We are stopping to "smell the roses" (but it smells a lot more like almost fully-ripened onions). I see so many parallels to my life as a parent and my garden. Most of the time, it's chaotic and in need of weeding and cleaning. I need to water it often so it can prosper. We set barriers to keep plants from growing the wrong way and we put netting up to keep bad things from happening to our precious fruits. The one that gets me the most is that I won't see the hard work that I put in until many days, months, and years later.

It is a precious thing, raising kids, plants, chickens. a bunny......

It is also a most-rewarding thing!...Especially on those days when I sit on my patio and I see the new green sprouts and the blooming flowers, the chickens strutting their stuff across the pumpkin vines, the bunny nibbling at the hay, my husband turning the compost, and the kids giggling, throwing dirt clods against the tilting wooden fence.

The Chicks

We tried the lady bunnies and that backfired in a major way....meaning, there is only 1 survivor and she eats everything in her path. We've (my husband) moved on to something, that I thought would be, way less time-consuming and, hopefully, will reap huge rewards in 6 months. We have chicks!


It was actually a very-well-thought-out decision on my husband's behalf. Months of library visits and on-line reading about care and housing became his nightly ritual. He called the feed store weeks ahead to check on their next shipment and made sure that we were ready. The coop is being built and the chicks have a nice plastic box with a warming light. They have personality and spunk. They are even more friendly than the bunny. It is amazing to me just how much I enjoy them. They make me laugh. I watch them grow and change on a daily basis.

They do have some issues that I don't care for. They poop everywhere! Similar to the bunny, they just go where they please and leave their mark so someone can step on it. As they are not old enough to be outside, they've had daily adventures in our garage and are now jumping the threshold into the kitchen. It's a little Hillbilly having chickens in the kitchen, but I find a lot of comfort in them being around cherping at me as though they really understand what I am saying to them. They give me eye contact and they acknowledge that I am in their presence.
I affectionately call them "the McNugget sisters" because they do not have individual names yet. I don't know why. I read once that you are less likely to eat your chickens if you name them. It could have been to keep the opportunity avaliable, just in case. But I'd never have the heart to pluck a chicken or even put one to death for that matter. I had issues trying to revive bunny #2.

So the count-down is on to fresh eggs and free manure. A little piece of country in our Huntington Beach back yard. Does it get any better?

The Bunny

Yes, the bunny is on a leash.

As noted in the title of my blog, my usual subjects are my own 3 sons, but this blog entry is about my surrogate daughter, Snowball. Snowball is the last of 3 bunnies that we purchased over 3 years ago as pets. 3 seemed like a magical number at the time. My husband and I each have 2 siblings, we have 3 sons, the Holy Trinity... I don't think that God meant for us to have 3 bunnies and it was pretty evident as the number slowly dwindled down to one. I'd tell you what happened to the other two, but then I'd have to bring up issues with the crazy neighbor and I really don't want to go into that detail. Cocoa and Fuzzbucket are in a better place and poor Snowball is still among the living, trying very hard each day to dig her little way out of the yard to the little piece of heaven on the other side of the fence.

I had multiple friends tell me that I should share my stories about my sassy bunny on my blog. She is quite entertaining, you know. I thought that if I were to do anything nice for her (never mind feeding her), it would be to blog about her so the world would know that I do acknowledge her as more than a strangely large cotton ball with fiery red eyes. (PS, I think she's blind)

So, the Lady has been a bit curious since she's become a free-range bun-in-the-sun. She gets first pickin' of the bountiful weeds and even the jalapeno plant (to which she has not partaken of yet....she may be smarter than she acts). She spends most of her time scampering around the garden and then laying in the shade for one of her 10 daily naps before the sun goes down. That's when the magic really does happen....Yes! My camillia plant has MAGICALLY disappeared! SO...call me crazy, but I find myself staring late at night into the yard from the patio door. I flick on the patio light and I stare at her, as if she even cares that I am there. I know that she knows, and she looks at me like, "I am sassy. I see you. I don't care. You can turn on the light and admire my beauty and call me albino because I have red eyes and white fur, but it isn't going to stop me from eating your camillia plant when you go to bed." Then she shakes her head like Justin Bieber and goes on licking herself.

I've been out in the garden a lot lately and she's been pretty friendly. She'll come nip at my pants and stare at me. I read her mind and she's thinking "Yeah, this woman is crazy to think that she is actually going to make this prison yard look better." The fuzzball will then proceed to practice her speed drills by randomly running across the yard and then stop and stare at me some more. I think that staring is her greatest talent. Well, that and EATING MY CAMILLIA PLANT. She has this freaky way of just staring at me and following my every movement with just the turn of her head. She's crazy!

There are times when I go out there to search for her because I haven't seen her in a couple days. I guess I've got a soft spot for her. Maybe it's because she looks so pathetic when it rains. Dreadlocks and dirty fur are pretty pathetic. Maybe it is because I see a lot of myself in her. First, she's crazy. Second, she's a little OCD. We watch her dig holes for hours and hours only to fill them up afterwards then the next day, she's at it again. She's moody and will eat anything. My husband told me that my camillia plant is like junk food to her and that she can't resist. So I guess she really is like me. I guess if I was a bunny, I'd eat the camillia plant too. It is (was) the most beautiful thing in the yard...at least until the compost box made its arrival. (another story for another day)

So there you go. Don't get a bunny. They are so stinkin' cute that you won't ever have the heart to put her up on Craig's List under "free" when she eats your favorite plant. You won't have the heart to place an ad in the Pennysaver for "Bunny. Free to a good home" even when your kids forget to feed her and then cry when you tell them that you are going have to get rid of her. Just don't do it. Get something ugly. I'm just sayin'.

Women Need Women

Friday's weather in southern California left much to be desired. It was cold, blustery (a word that I have heard preschool teachers, Winnie the Pooh, and my husband use), cloudy, and rainy. As the end of the school day came closer to its final minutes, we gathered one-by-one at our usual spot. The park was bare. Who would enjoy a day like this? The 4 of us would. As I sat there listening to conversations and interjecting my own silly comments, I realized just how much I depend on this daily ritual. This is my support group. These are women that I love for who they are. They share what is on their heart. We support each other in ways our husbands can not.

There are a few groups of women that gather at the park on a regular basis, but it was this group only that sat there in the wind and rain just to have a connection with each other. Everyday, I see pain, sadness, but also joy and amusement in the stories that are told. I am so grateful to these women that are willing to share and seek advice.

What I love most about these women is that they all sit on the same patch of grass, not to gossip or cause drama. We are all there to help each other become better mothers, wives, and friends. No man could give completely genuine and honest imput about being a better mother or wife.

Thank you for being there on that windy, rainy day. It warms my heart to think that it is as important to you all as it is for me to sit at the park and be there for each other regardless of the "weather".

...And for those who are seeking a special patch of grass for your own, you are always welcome to join us.

A Wife of Noble Character

Proverbs 31:10-31

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies....

I am a thinker....more of a thinker than a talker. I also have "schizophrenic" tendencies and A LOT of the time believe that there is much more to life than is actually there. Weighing heavily on my shoulders is what people think of me. They could be thinking about their favorite flavor of ice cream, but I believe that they are thinking about a short-coming of mine and have a negitive perception of me.

God has opened up an old wound of mine and I am trying so hard to figure out why. It brought me to this reading of Proverbs and He has reminded me to tell my story with honesty and integrity and to hold-fast to my faith that everything in my life is intentional whether it hurts or not. This hurts.....a lot!

I made a friend. This friend was not a friend. I hid things from my husband. My husband already knew. My husband wanted to trust me. I tried to end the friendship many times but had an addiction to the admiration that I was receiving. My "friend" was reckless and persistent. Even though my husband knew that I was completely committed to him, he wanted to see that I could take care of myself, but I couldn't. God asked my husband to step in. I wanted my husband to step in. God told me to seek forgiveness. Life is good. My marriage was strong and still is. God brought a wonderful support group to me full of fantastic women. They look out for me all the time.

My heart has been palpitating much faster lately. Even after years, gossip and rumors are so wicked. I know that there is a reason for being uncomfortable. I have been brought back to my most cherished Bible verses. I am reminded that it shouldn't matter what other people say about me. My value lies in what God thinks of me. True value lies in what my husband and children think of me. I am being summoned once again, to work on becoming a wife of noble character.

The world can be deceiving. It is my hope that the people I care about know why I make it my passion to be honest and "real". I don't want to be deceptive. I want them to know my story. So, if you're my friend, and you want to know more about my story, I'll tell you. I think that it is a very noble story as it turns out.

I set my sights now on fulfilling the characteristics of a noble wife. I want my husband to have full confidence in me. I want my children to wake and call me blessed. I am so grateful to God for every incident in my life. I know that I needed to be friends with the wrong person to become a stronger person with a stronger faith.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised...

Why the dangling earrings?

I've been having quite a few flashbacks lately of my life as a young girl. I was pretty Tom-boyish. I rarely ever wore dresses and when I did, I felt extremely uncomfortable. I still do. Shorts and t-shirts were the only articles of clothing in my dresser and then in college, I switched to t-shirts and jeans.



So I happened to be shopping a few days ago at Pier 1 Imports and a cute pair of dangling, large, floral earrings caught my eye. I didn't even hesitate to try them on. I just bought them. I wanted them so badly. It was a purchase I would have never made 5 years ago due to their "obnoxiousness".

I put them on today and I asked myself, "Why the dangling earrings now? Why not 10 years ago?" I am sure that there is a deep psychological reason as to "why" but I'm not really a deep thinker. I just reminded myself of my uncomfortable past of being a girl in a world that I was not ready to be feminine in yet.

A friend of mine told me once that your "30's" are the most difficult time of your life. Not that the "20's" were a breeze or that the "40's" are gonna be a party, it seems like your "30's" are a time in most people's lives when we are expected to show some kind of maturity. We have spouses and relationships that we need to nurture more than ever. We have kids that are being raised into teen-agers. There are household budgets and retirement packages that we need to adjust and plan around. Our bodies have stopped maturing and now we need to maintain, or firm up. Some of us look for meaningful friendships that bring us support more than just drama.

My "30's" have been all of the above for me, but they have also brought me some unexpected joy. I have finally felt confident about my body and being a woman. I don't need to hide behind baggy clothing. I don't need to pull my hair back into a ponytail every day. I have embraced the beauty that comes with curves of hips and curls in my hair. I paint my toe nails because it is much prettier than them being "naked". I try the make-up, and usually fail....but I'm ok with that. My favorite thing to do now is to wear a bow or flowers in my hair. If you see me with them, it has probably been a good day. I guess I missed out when I was a little girl. I love feeling feminine!

One of the most wonderful feelings in the world is when I do put on a dress. It drives my husband wild because he married me as a Tom-boy. He is always the first one to give me a "Wow!" reaction and I always love that feeling. I am so glad that my time to be feminine came to me in my late 20's and early 30's. I appreciate it so much more, I think. So, YES! the dangling earrings are a must-have. They tell a story. They shine and shimmer as they whisper to all that I have embraced the wonderful feeling of femininity.

BTW. I will always hold the crown for the biggest, loudest burp in my household. Somethings I just cannot part with on my journey to becoming more feminine.

Pure Genius!

Did I cheat the system and not realize it? As I was fulfilling my New Year's resolution of "not smelling" by taking my daily shower, I kept recalling a conversation that I had earlier this morning with my good friend and supporter of my wittiness, Marcy. Somehow we got onto a discussion about the library which led to me confessing that I did all of my high school, college, and graduate school research in the juvenile section of the library. I received multiple diplomas and credentials based upon various picture and cartoon books.

I get out of the shower and I am still thinking about how I got away with it. So....in researching for this blog, I go to my most-trusted source, my 5 year-old's library. I pick out my book of choice and begin to contemplate.

Exibit A (referenced from a mature source):

shark World Encyclopedia | 1980 | © World Encyclopedia 2005, originally published by Oxford University Press 2005.

Torpedo-shaped, cartilaginous fish found in subpolar to tropical marine waters. They have well-developed jaws, bony teeth, usually five gill slits on each side of the head, and a characteristic, lobe-shaped tail with a longer top lobe. Sharks are carnivorous, and at least ten species are known to attack humans. There are c.250 living species.

Exhibit B (juvenile source):

Berger, Melvin. Chomp! A Book About Sharks. Scholastic Inc. 1999.

Sharks are fish. Most are large. They have huge appetites. And they're almost always hunting for something to eat...Sharks use their fins to swim. The big tail fin swings from side to side. The tail pushes against the water. It moves the shark forward. The other fins keep the shark steady in the water.

Conclusion: It is obvious that more facts in fewer words come from Exhibit B. And, Hey Now!, "cartilaginous".... that sounds a lot like a "Bush-ism". What kind of normal human being would use the word "cartilaginous" in their writing? Maybe those that want to set off the red alert for plagiarism. Exhibit A most traditionally comes from a book that has only 1 picture for the entire entry. I don't know about you, but I prefer a myriad of pictures just in case I need to sketch a picture or two for the front cover of my report. I always "Wow!-ed" them with my random artwork mixed in between the pages of my blood-sweat-and-tears research. (I once stuck a random picture of my first-born son into a research paper for a psychology class and got an A+).

I don't ever hesitate to swing a left at the fish tank just to find a book for my boys' projects. They say that the Huntington Beach Public Library has the largest juvenile section of any library west of the Mississippi. I always find happy, brightly-colored books with lots of pictures to greet me. The only downside is that you can only check out 2 per call number. DARN YOU DEWEY DECIMAL SYSTEM! (said with no offense to my mom and brother-in-law....Go library science!)

I am not sure yet, if I will pass this knowledge on to the next generation. Marcy and I got a laugh imagining what a graduate professor would say if they read a bibliography that had a title with an obvious give-away like "Chomp! A Book About Sharks".

Pure genius or just laziness.....smart people, don't answer that.