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Saturday Smiles – Joy Edition

I know, I know. It’s Sunday. I’m a day late, but I can’t give up the catchy title, so here we are.

It’s the third Sunday of Advent. The focus: joy. I experienced a lot of joy at church this morning, and when I think about what makes me smile, much of it is rooted in joy. Here’s a sampling.

Two people offered special music this morning. They sang two Christmas selections. They are not professional musicians nor was their performance what I would call polished. But it. was. beautiful. And you want to know why? Because one of them is legally blind and the other uses a cane to walk and has other physical issues. They held hands as they sang, presenting a picture of what the apostle Paul wrote — “when I am weak, then you are strong.” To some, they might be considered useless individuals. But I believe God smiled on them today and smiles on them every day of their lives on earth. And that makes me smile.

Last night, driving home from Kmart around dusk, the moon was large, orange and hanging so low in the horizon I thought we were going to drive right into it. It looked like a Christmas ornament hanging from the heavens. On the radio, “O Holy Night” — my favorite Christmas hymn — was playing. Pure magic.

Prior to that, while we were headed into Kmart, a woman delivered two McDonald’s coffees to the Salvation Army bell ringers, who were grateful for the liquid warmth as they volunteered their time. What a great idea! I wish I’d thought of it, but I’ll try not to forget it. Small act. Big impact.

Our 3-year-old likes to pass out stickers at church. We call it her sticker ministry. I love watching people’s faces light up when they see her coming.

She’s going to miss the Christmas party at church next week. The kids are going to visit shut-ins and bring them a craft. Even though we’ll be with family in Illinois then, she was super upset that she wouldn’t get to help pass out things to people who can’t come to church. She was relieved to learn that she could help Nana and Papa with a service project in Illinois. Such a big heart for such a little girl. I love it.

The kids and I spent much of the week making Christmas gifts for people we’re thankful for this year. The kitchen was messy. The dishes piled up. I grew weary of being anywhere near the kitchen. The kids couldn’t keep their hands out of some of the ingredients. My son covered himself in paint. We made two trips to Dollar General and one trip to Hobby Lobby and two trips to the grocery store. And with a kitchen full of gift bags stuffed full of love, I’m satisfied. And eager to spread the Christmas cheer.

We have a short but full week ahead of us, and while all the things we have to do don’t necessarily make me smile, knowing we’ll be with family by the end of the week is my inspiration to work hard and get ‘er done. I love and miss my family in Illinois and can’t wait to see them and spend time with them.

Smiling? Oh, yeah.

Hard to say I’m sorry

My son is “serving time” in his crib for biting his sister. It’s the second time this week he’s left a visible mark on a part of her body. The first time, he drew blood. And he’s the younger one of the two.

Sigh.

I know this isn’t by far the worst it will get as a parent. (We avoid the “p” word around here … ya know, puberty. That’s years away but we still dread it.)

But it’s frustrating. There’s no real rhyme or reason. We send him to timeout, which works, kind of. He resists timeout, but he’s willing to hug his sister afterwards.

He WILL NOT, however, say the words “I’m sorry.” He’s 2. And his vocabulary is such that he can it say but chooses not to.

Tonight, as he protested, “but I can’t” when I asked him to tell his sister he was sorry, I had a Chicago flashback.

Indulge me, will you?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLVKd1lhgOQ]

There, that’s better. I think you could change a few words in the song and it would apply to these two siblings who seem to have a love-hate relationship.

It’s not like my son is unique, though. He’s human, and if you haven’t noticed, we, humans, have a hard time with “sorry.” My first reaction when confronted with something I might or might not have done wrong is to find someone or something else to blame. “Sorry” is a last resort.

I was reminded of this yesterday when my husband brought up something that I hadn’t even realized I was guilty of doing. I wanted to find a reason to not be in the wrong, but in the end, I had to swallow all those excuses like a piece of overcooked broccoli and spit out the words, “I’m sorry.” Like the broccoli, it left a bad taste in my mouth, but I knew it was good for me.

I know that an apology doesn’t always fix things and that people who aren’t sorry can say the words and nothing changes. (And that some people are quick to apologize for things they didn’t do and have no control over.) But sometimes the words, sincere or not, are a start.

My son was given three or four chances tonight to apologize to his sister. He kept wanting to hug her and stuck to his original story of why he wouldn’t apologize: “I can’t.”

Maybe it’s true. Maybe he knows he wouldn’t mean it. (That would be awfully deep for a 2-year-old, I think.)

Or maybe he’s 2. And that’s all there is to it.

At least he has that as an excuse. I’m not sure it would work for me. (But, I’m only 33! I didn’t know better. Yeah, right!)

When do you have trouble with apologies? How do you overcome it? When was the last time you said “sorry” and meant it? How do you react when someone says “I’m sorry”?

A holiday deal for the reader on your list

Looking for the perfect Christmas gift for the Amish fiction fan on your list? Or maybe you’re the one who can’t get enough of novels featuring the Amish?

Either way Cindy Woodsmall has a Christmas story of love, romance, heartache and restoration in The Christmas Singing.

Check out the trailer below. Or take a sneak peek of the first chapter here.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_GYH4pZvCk]

Waterbrook Multnomah is offering a 30 percent discount plus free shipping on The Christmas Singing with the promo code  CHRISTMAS11 at checkout on WaterBrookMultnomah.com. The coupon code expires on December 20. The code is good for any purchase from Waterbrook Multnomah.

Books make great Christmas gifts!

Saturday smiles: holiday/birthday edition

You don’t have to check your calendar. It’s not Saturday. But we were so busy having fun celebrating my son’s birthday and having family visit this weekend that posting my weekly smile-makers was pushed to the back burner.

Here are my holiday and birthday-themed reasons to smile.

It started with a birthday. My son’s second. Adorable, right? Let’s just say that looks can be deceiving. He’s setting us up for a more “terrible” two than his sister did. But Friday was his day to celebrate, so we did it up right. Homemade pop-tarts, eggs and sausage for breakfast. (In my husband’s family, the birthday boy or girl gets to choose their meals for the day. Corban didn’t exactly choose them this time around, but he enjoyed everything we gave him.)

And this crazy-looking plate of food for lunch. Octo-dogs and shells is what the recipe from the kids cookbook called it. Hot dogs. Cheese crackers. Pasta. What could be better?

How about dirt cake in a dump truck with gummy worms crawling throughout? Let me tell you, this whole creepy crawlie, dirty, monster, cars and trucks stuff is stretching my imagination. I find my daughter with her princess, dolls and ballerina obsessions much easier to accommodate creatively.

But I did manage to pull this off. That was cake 1 of 2. After a fruitless search for Bob the Builder toys (confession: I didn’t check Toys R Us. I just couldn’t go in there on a December Saturday. I might have lost my mind.) this is what I came up with.

So, my second effort was the one you see below. Graham cracker crumbs, chocolate graham goldfish crackers, tic tacs and some toys we had at home (plus a few extras I picked up at the dollar store) and voila! Bob the Builder cake without Bob.

Every time I’m able to make a special cake for my kids’ birthday, it’s a reason to smile. I’m no professional, but I have a lot of fun!

Next up was my husband’s work Christmas party. You can read more about the entertainment here. This is what makes me smile most about holiday parties.

My husband’s green pants. And people’s reactions to them. And the fact that we really did get them for like $10 at an outlet store in Illinois and the price on the tag was in the $200 range. Christmas is my husband’s favorite excuse for the green pants. Maybe second only to St. Patrick’s Day.

Our weekend of fun and celebration also included a trip to Koziar’s Christmas Village. Two years ago, we made our first visit to this incredible spectacle in the middle of nowhere. I was VERY pregnant, days away from delivering the son that just turned two. Temperatures were below freezing, and I was miserable. This time, I couldn’t wait to take the kids back and see how they enjoyed the lights, the window displays and (spoiler alert!) Santa.

There’s something magical about seeing Christmas through your kids’ eyes. As they get older, especially, it’s fun to watch them react. I almost can’t wait for the first snow. Almost. I missed playing with them in it the first time it snowed this year (in October!)

I don’t know what it is about lights, but Koziar’s Christmas Village creates more than just a festive atmosphere with their light displays. This one across the pond is among the first you see when you enter, and it’s my favorite.

We stood in line for Santa, and I had no good idea how it was going to go. I had fears that we’d be the parents with the kids crying on Santa’s lap with a “priceless” photo to show for it. It was close, but we ended up with this.

Corban was not crazy about this bearded man, but he hung in there okay.

I’m still smiling at this picture.

Other smile-makers this week:

  • breakfast with a good friend.
  • a clean kitchen
  • 12 days without a potty accident by the 3-year-old
  • washing baby clothes for my soon-to-be born nephew

On a gray, winter day, with a mix of snow, rain and ice in the forecast, looking back on the week brings some light and warmth to the day.

What are you smiling about today?

A day at the beach: A review of Shadows on the Sand by Gayle Roper

If Seaside, New Jersey was a real place, I’d book my next vacation there. Murder and intrigue notwithstanding.

Shadows on the Sand was my first Gayle Roper novel, and I’m not sorry I took the plunge. It was an enjoyable blend of romance and mystery. Thrilling in all kinds of ways.

In it, Carrie Carter runs a cafe and when her dishwasher turns up missing, and then dead, she finds herself looking for answers. Greg, a former police officer, a widower and a regular at the cafe, is drawn into the search. While the storyline has its predictable moments, the journey is fun and exciting, with enough twists and turns to keep you in it till the end.

Click here for a sneak peek at the first chapter.

I especially loved the characters. Carrie and Greg and the supporting “cast” became real to me. I believed their emotions, their struggles, their reactions. My only criticism of Carrie is that I kept imagining her older than the 33 years the author created her to be. She had a rough past, so maybe that’s why she seemed older in thought and deed.

I’m not sure what impacted me more, though: the story or the author’s note at the end. Roper reveals that she was recently widowed, a characteristic she shares with Greg in the book. His struggles became more meaningful as I realized she was writing, in part, from what she knew and experienced.

That, my friends, is the key to good writing. I appreciated Roper’s openness in sharing that particular struggle and transforming it into a creative work for the blessing of others.

Shadows on the Sand is Roper’s fifth book in the Seaside Seasons series. I’m looking forward to reading what I’ve missed in the other books.

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As part of the Blogging for Books program, I received a free digital copy of Shadows on the Sand from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group.

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So, if you made it this far, you might be willing to go a step further, right? Click on the link below to rate my review on the Blogging For Books Web site and you’ll be entered for a chance to win a FREE book from Waterbrook Multnomah. That’s worth a few extra seconds, right?

http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/bloggingforbooks/reviews/ranking/14639

10 songs you shouldn’t hear at a Christmas party

My husband and I attended his work Christmas party on Friday night. Free food + great entertainment + a night away from the kids + a chance to win door prizes = SOLD!

It’s sometimes awkward for me to attend work functions for my husband. This is a part-time, temporary job, not what his career will be, and many of his co-workers are high school and college age, significantly younger than us and in a 100 percent different season of life.

Still, I looked forward to the party. The entertainment was the same as last year — a singing duo with great vocal range, everything from Motown to country to pop. The guy also plays the flute and the sax, and the lady wears great shoes that have been the talk of the party. They’re a lot of fun and extremely talented.

While the dinner music played this year, I noticed a theme I couldn’t ignore.

So, here’s a list of 10 songs  that shouldn’t be on the playlist for a Christmas party, in this case a work Christmas party.

1. “Bye, Bye Love.” Goodbye, happiness. Hello, loneliness. I feel like I could die. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t people struggle with depression around the holidays? Is Christmas the right time to be singing about a break-up?

2. “Margaritaville.” It was a non-alcoholic party. ‘Nuff said, right? Although maybe the idea was to create an urge to take a vacation from the cold winter weather of central Pennsylvania.

3. “Tears on My Pillow.” See #1. Break-up songs + Christmas = awkward at best.

4. “Forget You.” Though the guy did a decent Cee Lo cover, it’s yet another break-up song. And the original version contains the big “F-bomb,” though I wouldn’t have known that if my husband hadn’t told me.

5. “Runaround Sue.” All I want for Christmas is a girl who won’t cheat on me.

6. “Man! I Feel Like a Woman.” The words “gonna let it all hang out” make me cringe in mixed company, especially when that company includes female co-workers your husband sees daily.

7. “Rolling in the Deep.” Great song, and if you can’t tell what it’s about, then maybe it doesn’t matter. More relationship angst.

8. “Build Me Up Buttercup.” More unfaithfulness, more unrequited love. Did I miss something about what Christmas is all about?

9. “She’s a Brick House.” Refer to #6 on the “hanging out” lyrics. Also, because the male entertainer of the duo demonstrated a suggestive move for the ladies on the dance floor to imitate. It was like prom meets bad wedding reception.

10. Anything by Lady Gaga, especially when it’s the last song of the evening and it’s “Bad Romance.” Catchy if you don’t listen to the words. But the main reason it makes the list is my husband’s reaction as he turned away from the dance floor: “I’m not going to look. I don’t want to know which of my coworkers wants a bad romance.”

The singers did their fair share of appropriate Christmas and dance music, too, so maybe creating this list means I’m getting old. I should add that we had a great time and came home with a Ruby Tuesday gift card. Date night bonus!

What do you think about these songs as Christmas party entertainment? Do you have any to add? Should I have left any of these off the list?

The golden (birthday) child

Dear son,

Two years ago today, you pushed your way into our lives hard and fast. And you haven’t slowed down since.

Before you were born, I feared I wouldn’t love you enough, what with your big sister’s big personality. Now, I think sometimes I love you too much. You instinctively call for me and in the process shun help from others. I secretly love it, even when I force someone else to respond to your needs.

 We understand each other in a way I wouldn’t have expected. Our personalities mesh. We don’t need people all the time. We’re content by ourselves. And we don’t want to be left out of anything. I’m looking forward to seeing how this develops in both of our lives.

You’re officially two today, but unofficially, you’ve been 2 in my mind for a long time. You walked before you were 1. You’ve been talking — to keep up with your sister — for practically as long, it seems. Nothing stops you or slows you down — not even the bumps and bruises of life that seem to find you more than they ever found your sister.

You are all boy, and though sometimes, I have no idea what to do with that, I love the differences you’ve brought to our lives. “Boy — a noise with dirt on it.” I saw this definition on a piece of scrapbooking paper. I laughed at the time, thinking it was clever. Now I know it’s true, too.

If there’s a puddle, you jump in it and splash through it. If too many leaves are gathered in one spot, you shuffle through them with a big grin on your face. “Again?” you ask, answering with another run-through before I’ve had a chance to answer. If you’re holding one object, you must find another to hit it against. And sometimes, you just rock out to your own beat.

And the sweetness. You aren’t always noisy or dirty or mischievous. Sometimes, you are so sweet, I want to cry.

“Please I may?” You’ve found the secret to getting your way. It doesn’t matter what you’re asking, when  you ask with these words, my heart screams, “Yes!”

You faithfully give hugs (squeezes), kisses and noses, and your soft “I wuv you” is heart melting.

Some days, I want to skip the next 20 years and see what you become. OK, I don’t really want to skip them, but I want to see how God uses this personality. I joke that you’re going to play football because knocks to the head don’t seem to faze you. Your mother is another story. If you do play football, I will be the mother in the stands who can’t look but who will be there to support you, nonetheless.

A few hundred words can’t adequately capture all of who you are.

Maybe a video will help.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYc8Y9Xi7bQ]

And another picture.

It’s true that we seem to take less pictures of just you than we did of your sister. I confess that we celebrated every milestone in picture with her. I fear the condition of your baby book compared to hers.

But don’t ever believe that we loved you less than her. Yes, she was our first child. But you are our first son. And that is something special, too.

Happy birthday, little man. You won’t stay little, so I’ll say it as long as I can.

The journey to 2 has been a wild ride so far. I’m certain the next year will bring us more wild times, too.

Love,

Mom

Beginning again

Five months ago, I made a promise. I pledged to donate money for every pound I lost by the end of the year. Others joined the pledge, either with donations or support or a weight loss pledge of their own.

I’m here to tell you that I’ve failed. But that’s not the end of the story.

Since I made that promise, I overate at church camp. I let my workouts slide while we visited family in Illinois two different times. I ate “comfort food” after our basement flooded and I didn’t want to deal with the reality of clean-up and loss. And I took the month of November to write a novel.

So I find myself here, the 1st of December, having made negative progress, closer to 200 pounds than I’ve ever been when not pregnant or just having had a baby. Yet I’m resolved to not give up.

I restarted my twice-a-week 5 a.m. workouts this morning. And even though Christmas is coming, and sweets and goodies abound, I’m determined to keep it under control.

Can I just say what I’m thinking?

I DON’T WANT TO BE FAT!

There. That’s my fear. I see the misery in the faces of Biggest Loser contestants and I know that not much separates me from the downward spiral they’ve experienced.

Maybe that’s too dramatic. Or maybe it’s realistic. I just know that I’m not getting any younger and losing weight isn’t going to get any easier.

So.

I’m restarting my quest to lose weight and raise money for widows and orphans in Liberia. And I’m extending my deadline to March, at least.

“What we call failure is not the falling down but the staying down.” — Mary Pickford, actress. (Also similar to a Chinese proverb.)

I have fallen. But I will get up.

I will check in monthly, here, with my progress.

Stay tuned.

And help inspire me.

How do you keep your weight loss goals?

A novel experience

Waking up at 5 a.m. is crazy, right?

Waking up at 5 a.m. every day for a month, even crazier.

I mean, it’s not like I had a baby to feed. My kids wake up early, but even 5 a.m. is early for them.

So, what would have compelled me to lose sleep, drink more coffee and wake up before the sun?

One word: NaNoWriMo.

Okay, so that’s not really a word. But it is the reason. I first heard about National Novel Writing Month last year while it was going on, and I was unprepared to participate. It’s been on my radar ever since, so when November approached this year, I created a plan to complete the goal of NaNoWriMo: write a 50,000-word novel from November 1-30.

The plan included waking up at 5 a.m. daily to write as much as I could before the first child woke up for the day.

Some days, I succeeded. Success to me was 1,000 words or more per day. Other days, I failed miserably. And by that I mean I didn’t even get out of bed.

But as of today, November 30, the final day of NaNoWriMo, I’m proud to say that I have written 35,000 words this month. Added to a previous 7200 or so that I’d written before the month started, and I now have over 42,000 words of a novel written.

What?!?

I knew going into this that I probably wasn’t going to make the 50,000 mark. My kids woke up earlier than usual. The words wouldn’t come. I had other writing projects to finish. My husband needed the computer. But I knew that whatever I accomplished was success because I rarely make writing a priority. How can I? I full-time parent two full-time kids.

This exercise proved to me that it can be done, but it requires sacrifice, namely sleep, but I’m convinced that’s why God allowed coffee to be created. Mmm … coffee.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. What I learned from NaNoWriMo.

Not only did it teach me discipline in making room in my day for writing, it also confirmed my call to write. At the same time, it frustrated my call to write. On the days I got in a good chunk of writing, I felt like a better mom because I wasn’t thinking about writing all day long. I’d already done it. Other days, I barely scratched across 500 words because I was out of the chair every five minutes to grant a breakfast request for my kids or change a diaper or wipe a bottom.

I haven’t gone back yet to review what I’ve written, but I’m in awe of the story that has unfolded. I don’t say that to brag on myself. I am convinced that God has called me to write, and to write this story in particular. Maybe that sounds weird or arrogant, but that’s the best way I can explain it.

Writing a novel is hard work. Duh, right? I think I have as many questions in the margins as I do words on the page. I’m eager to do some research and fill in the blanks. I don’t know if this story will ever see the light of day beyond my computer, but I’ve started the journey and I’ll go as far as God allows me to go.

To all you WriMos out there who made the 50,000 mark — way to go!

To all who participated — you rock!

And if you thought about it but didn’t — maybe next year?

Thanks, NaNoWriMo, for the inspiration.

It’s been a November to remember.

Breaking the rules: A review of Raised Right by Alisa Harris

Everyone knows you’re not supposed to talk about religion or politics, right? Especially if you don’t want to start an argument.

Alisa Harris does both in her memoir Raised Right: How I Untangled My Faith from Politics. What she writes is sure to ruffle some feathers.

In a world where a vote for president often comes down to the lesser of two so-called evils, is purely partisan and sometimes divisive, Harris’ book is a refreshingly honest and humble point of view on faith and politics and where the two should (and shouldn’t) meet.

Harris was raised in a conservative Christian home in a family that actively protested at abortion clinics and always voted Republican. She believed then that the right people in power could save the country.

Through college and into adulthood, those beliefs were challenged and Harris began to question whether what she was taught to believe about politics and religion was the only way.

Her story navigates the waters where some fear to tread, introducing the idea that people can be pro-life and Democrat, opposed to abortion but pro-choice,   feminists who love their families and conservatives who care about the poor.

“Not all of them are right but neither are they heretics,” Harris writes.

In a time of questioning my political allegiances (and whether patriotic hymns should be sung in church), I couldn’t put the book down. It’s a well-written and wise reminder for Christians that politics does not save us. “We can make political the things that are political and make spiritual the things that are spiritual,” Harris says.

If you’re fed up with the religious aspects of politics, read this book.

If you want to understand the people who are fed up with the religious aspects of politics, read this book.

If you like a good true-life story, read this book.

Want a preview? Click here for chapter one.

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As part of the Blogging for Books program, I received a free copy of the book from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group.

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