Monthly Archive

Let’s see . . .

This morning I:

• jumped on the bed with Bridget
• played “dollhouse”
• played “kitchen”
• cleaned and rearranged Jacob’s room
• read a few blogs
• gave Bridget a bath
• ate too many doughnut holes
• rocked Bridget to sleep
• emailed a few friends
• tidied the kitchen
• read a little
• cleaned out my inbox
• subscribed to Writer’s Market online
• did a little research
• worked on the school newsletter

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If you’re wondering what’s missing from this list, click here.

We’re going out to eat tonight to celebrate. (kids eat free - woo hoo!)

If you have Good News to share, please leave it in the comments section. Or why not write a Good News post of your own?!

On the surface, it may seem to some that my week was filled with nothing but bad news. On Tuesday evening, I found out my daughter and her friend have been the victims of a playground bully for the better part of the school year. On Wednesday, we went to a funeral (for which I had a pounding headache the entire time). It snowed again. My friend’s dog died of advanced liver disease (I’m so sorry, Melissa). I’m still mourning the completion of His Dark Materials, mainly because the book I’m now reading is so dull. Or maybe it’s just too strange to follow. In short, there’s been a lot of sadness and discontent.

But lo and behold, the sun is shining in all is glorious glory today, and the sky is a bright blue. There may be snow on the ground still and a chill in the air, but signs of life are beginning to pop up everywhere. Birds are chipping. Crocus are pushing their way up through the frozen ground. Small deer can be seen by their mama’s side nibbling on barely-visible grass and branches. Hang on Gary ~ it’s almost here! Before long, those early-morning bathroom breaks with your old and tired pooch won’t be so bad.

Today is Kristi’s birthday!! Happy #32! I can’t believe I forgot to mention this on last week’s post, but Kristi is pregnant with baby #2  . . . and quite possibly #3 and #4. Kristi underwent a successful frozen embryo transplant and is now about 6 weeks gestation. In another week, she’ll have an ultrasound to detect how many little heartbeats are in there. While the thought of multiples sure sounds exciting, those of us with more than one child (especially those of you with twins) knows what an adjustment it is going from one to more. Kristi is understandably feeling a littler nervous, so please keep her in your thoughts. Que sera, sera. Kristi, I’m certain you can handle anything!

My husband gave me flowers for no reason.

Last night’s Earth Hour was a success . . . in more ways than one. All the kids were in bed and asleep by 8:30. Of course, it helps to have a completely dark house with nothing for them to do but close their eyes and fall asleep. The only thing we could hear was the whirring of the fans (for white noise) and Jacob’s radio playing a continuous loop of The Final Countdown ~ 30 minutes of the.same.song

Oh, and . . . I just quit my contract job. It was a TOUGH decision, and I’ll be writing a post about that to share at www.LisGarrett.com .

We finally have a meeting scheduled with the AIS support team and the chair of the Special Ed. Dept. for Thursday.

I won a purse!!

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Have a great week!! 

Tonight at 8PM, we’ll turn off the power for one hour to do our small part in reducing energy consumption. Admittedly, I had a tough time getting my husband to agree to Earth Hour. It’s prime TV time, he whined. So I put on my thinking cap  . . .

You know, I said, if we can get the kids in bed by 8:00, we’ll have a whole hour without any lights.

Yeah. So?

The man can be dense without a full pot of coffee running through his veins. An hour together? In the dark? (wink wink)

light-bulb moment

Let’s just say we’ll be making some energy of our own!

Thanks to everyone who commented yesterday with words of sympathy and understanding. There are moments when our capacity to parent well is stretched, when we want to hide under a rock or use that rock to break someone’s window just to relieve the frustration. My Hannah is hurt and confused. Her friend is hurt and confused. The “bully” is also hurt and confused.

I am thankful I have the ability to look beyond my own daughter’s immediate physical and emotional needs and realize that, as much as she needs help getting through this difficult situation, there are two other families dealing with the same problem. There is an angry little girl who, for some reason, thinks forcing someone to be your friend by lying and manipulation is okay. I thought my daughter was friends with the “bully” because they truly liked each other; in fact, I’m positive my daughter liked her at one point, and I believe she is mourning that friendship to a certain extent. But it’s come to my attention that Hannah has been scared of this girl for awhile, perhaps not in a physical way, but scared that this girl will spread nastiness through hurtful rumors and untrue words.

Resolution is a slow process. I’m the common link between the other two mothers involved. They don’t know each other, but they both know me. In other words, I feel responsible to “break the ice” and facilitate the healing process. I sent an email to both mothers last night and encouraged the use of the “reply all” button. While not the preferred method of communication, there is a convenience and safeness to email. Unlike a telephone call or an in-person meeting, you can edit an email. The barrier has been breached, with the mother of the other bullied child speaking out to the one whose child is doing the bullying. Nothing more has happened, as of yet. Or perhaps they are speaking with each other privately.

All I know is, I feel so emotionally and mentally drained right now. And sad. I’ve had a pounding headache since Tuesday, and I’m having a difficult time concentrating on my work. Who wants to write about home hair removal methods when there are far more important things about which to worry?

deep breath

My good friend Sandy contacted me and said what a wonderful opportunity has presented itself for me to begin my own Balcony Girls group. Wonderful indeed! If you don’t know anything about Balcony Girls, please visit Sandy’s blog for more information. I’ve been giving the idea a lot of thought.

Well, the silver lining in all this is that I have a wonderful idea for an article. Inspiration comes in many forms, and sometimes it hits you right over the head.

And on an unrelated note, I received a phone call yesterday from the school. We have a meeting with the AIS (Academic Intervention Specialists) on April 3rd. Hopefully they’re done hemming and hawing about which papers need filling out and are ready to get on with Jacob’s evaluations. It’s been six long months . . .

**This is a long post** 

I often think that motherhood is not so much about having light-bulb moments as it is about your mind’s dimmer switch being turned on slowly. I’ve been struggling the past month with my eight-year-old daughter, Hannah, because she’s been exhibiting behavior outside the realm of what I consider normal for her. There’s been lying, crying, anger, frustration . . . general sulkiness. Hannah has always been the bright beacon on cloudy days, the epitome of happiness, a true and loyal friend to everyone. You can imagine how this change in behavior has been weighing on my mind, leaving my stomach in knots as I wring my hands in search for answers.

Quite honestly, I thought Hannah was feeling the stress of being in 3rd grade; after all, 3rd-graders are like the middle children of elementary school, stuck in between the coddled lower grades and independent big kids. Hannah has, up until this year, been a top-notch student. While still above par in both reading and writing, she’s been struggling with math. Although math has never been her greatest subject, she’s having a tough time with being fast enough this year. God, how I hate the schools who put emphasis on being fast rather than proficient.

At any rate, I believed Hannah’s self-esteem issues were linked directly to how she’s been struggling in math. Hannah is a lot like me; she wants to be perfect in everything, and she believes a weakness in one area makes her an overall failure. It makes me almost physically ill to see Hannah mirror my bad behavior, and it’s something I’m desperately trying to correct. A call from her class math aide and a conference with her teacher made me question what was really going on, however. Apparently, Hannah is actually doing a lot better in math than what she has led us to believe. She’s average, almost smack-dab in the middle. 

There’s something getting in the way with her self-confidence, said the math aide, and we’re not sure what it is.

I asked both the aide and teacher to occasionally throw Hannah a bone. Tell her she’s doing a good job. Let her know that not everyone can be a math whiz and that she’s a strong reader and writer.

And yet, Hannah’s behavior became more and more bizarre. It was almost as though she was depressed, and I didn’t know how to reach her.

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The other day, Hannah’s friend, so-and-so rode the bus home with her. I’ve been watching so-and-so after school sometimes, as her mother is not always available to greet her daughter directly from the bus. Although I like so-and-so (at least I did) there has always been something about her that’s given me pause. But considering I couldn’t quite put my finger on what bothered me about her, I never said anything. Certainly, I didn’t say anything to Hannah, as I don’t think it’s ever okay for an adult to badmouth one child to another, especially not when the children are classmates. What’s more, I like so-and-so’s mother.

The girls had been downstairs watching Nancy Drew while I finished up a bit of work. After the movie was over, they came upstairs and began getting ready to go outdoors to play. That’s when I noticed a chunk of denim missing from the knee of Hannah’s jeans.

What happened to your jeans, Hannah?

She got that blank stare on her face and refused to speak.

Hannah, did you cut your jeans?

For a brief second, I noticed the girls exchange a look.

Hannah, it looks like your jeans were cut. Did you cut your jeans?

I didn’t do it, mom. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

And again, the girls exchanged another look.

Hannah, it hurts my feelings when you lie to me. Even though I may be disappointed in the truth, I’m even more disappointed when you lie to me.

I didn’t do it, mom. I promise.

So I let them go. But I knew . . .

While the girls were outside, I went downstairs to search for the scissors and the missing piece of denim. And sure enough, there they were, right where the girls had been watching television.

After Hannah’s friend went home, I showed Hannah the evidence. She began crying, but all she said was, I lost my mind. All I could think of was, what the hell sort of answer is that? Hannah’s punishement for lying was to lose TV privileges for an entire week.

Fast forward to the next evening at dinner. My husband was working late, so it was just the kids and me. Hannah was picking at her dinner, looking sullen.

What’s wrong?

And that’s when the dam broke and a tide of pent-up emotion came rushing forth with enough force to practically knock me out of my chair. I told so-and-so we can’t be friends anymore? she quivered.

What happened? I was fully expecting some ridiculous answer.

She’s just so mean mom! She’s a rotten, horrible person! Strong words for an eight-year-old girl.

Hannah is loyal to a fault, so I knew it had to be serious for her to be so emotional. And serious it is. Apparently, so-and-so has been playing Hannah and other friend, with whom Hannah has been good friends since Kindergarten, against each other. So-and-so has been spreading lies and rumors, confiding in Hannah that other friend has been saying mean and nasty things behind her back, and vice versa. The taunting happens almost exclusively on the playground and even got so bad last week that Hannah and other friend went crying hysterically to the supervising teacher. So-and-so got a stern talking to, according to Hannah. I wondered, however, where was my phone call from the teacher? Where was my note sent home that informed me of what had transpired so that I could talk to Hannah? 

I took the opportunity to broach the subject about the previous day’s lying incident. Are you ready to tell me about your jeans?

She began crying. So-and-so made me do it.

What? How did so-and-so make you cut your jeans?

So-and-so told me, “You better cut your jeans, or else.”

Hannah, what did she mean by that?

I don’t know, mom. I was afraid that she wouldn’t be my friend anymore if I didn’t do it. And I didn’t want to tell you yesterday, because I didn’t want to get her in trouble.

See? Loyal to a fault. Obviously, we need to help Hannah better distinguish between knowing right from wrong and asking an adult for help if she feels unsure or uncomfortable.

Hannah spent the better part of an hour venting, crying, and raging. And me? Well, I was livid. Holy crap was I mad.

So I emailed so-and-so’s mother. It was a polite email, full of detailed incidents (including a word-for-word account of the letter so-and-so mailed to Hannah in which she said that they could not be friends at school and, by the way, my dad thinks other friend is a brat). I couldn’t trust my temper over the phone, and email gave me the opportunity to get out all my thoughts in a non-judgemental and non-hostile way.

I also quickly emailed other friend’s mother wondering if other friend had confided anything in her.

The next morning, there was a friendly reply from so-and-so’s mother saying so-and-so has no right to bully the girls and that she will have a talk with her about it. As of yet, I don’t know the details of what she and so-and-so talked about.

But then I had a LONG talk with other friend’s mother, and it’s become apparent that her daughter is receiving the brunt of the bullying. When I told other friend’s mother about the jean incident and got to the part where so-and-so said or else, other friend’s mom gasped and said that her daughter told her of an incident on the playground not too long ago in which so-and-so wanted other friend to do something naughty or else.

Or else, what? asked other friend.

Or else this (miming slitting a throat)

WTF? These girls are eight years old! My head feels woozy as I write this. I am on the verge of both crying and retching into the toilet. All of this makes me so sick.

Other friend’s mother was going to call so-and-so’s mother last night, and I am wondering what happened.

All I know is, both Hannah and other friend have been seriously traumatized by this girl. And I feel awful that it’s taken until now for all of this to come out into the open. We have instilled in our girls the value of friendship, to treat others the way you want to be treated, to be nice no matter what. And then a bully comes along and takes advantage of their sweet disposition, plays them against each other, lies to them, threatens them . . .

So not only do we have to contend with the Special Education Department and AIS (Academic Intervention Specialists) dragging their heels for six months on Jacob’s evaluations, we now have to deal with a school bully. The only good thing to come out of all this is so-and-so is going back to homeschooling next year. This is the first year she’s been in public school. When I asked her mother why she said, I can’t take all the drama. Kids are so mean to each other.

Hannah said, As far as I’m concerned, so-and-so is the one causing all the drama.

We’ve never had problems like this before, and it’s all-of-a-sudden gotten worse. Hannah told me, I’m so glad so-and-so will be home next year. I don’t want her in my school anymore causing problems.

At this point, I don’t know how angry I should be with the teacher and/or principal. I’m not sure they knew the extent of what was going on. But you better believe they’ll hear it from me.

PS - My husband and I are looking into what our legal rights are concerning the AIS evaluations. That will be a post for another day, though.

I’ve been a huge fan of handmade jewelry by PamperingBeki ever since I purchased the FUNKY MOM coil cuff nearly a year ago on etsy. It’s one of those pieces I wear all the time, from formal occasions to dress down days. Even though I’m an introvert by nature and tend to dress somewhat conservatively, the coil cuff hints at the FUNKY side of my personality.

But what I like most about Beki’s handmade jewelry, however, is her eclectic style. Truly, there is a piece for everyone. It doesn’t matter if you are six or forty-six, traditional or modern, sweet or sassy, Beki has the jewelry you need. What’s more, handmade jewelry by PamperingBeki is priced for every budget. So if you think you have to spend a fortune just to pamper yourself, think again!

Beki incorporates many natural stones into her designs, which gives those elemental pieces of handmade jewelry their unique look. She uses only professional grade beading wire and finishes each piece with a Sterling Silver clasp. Beki’s guarantee to you: Although I use the finest products, I realize accidents happen. If your item ever breaks for any reason, please send it back to me and I’ll fix it at no charge to you. My pieces are made to be worn time and time again.

Beki has generously agreed to offer one lucky reader the MOD MELONS white onyx earrings pictured below. Each one of these white onyx stones is approximately 14mm and hangs 1 inch from hook to base. To be eligible to win these earrings, please first visit Beki’s etsy shop then come back here and tell us what is your favorite piece of PamperingBeki jewelry. All comments between now and April 1^st (noon eastern) are eligible. I will announce the winner next Wednesday. **The black flecks on the white onyx are part of the natural design and what makes it unique.**

Be sure to visit Beki’s blog, PamperingBeki, and sign up for the mailing list to receive emails about future discounts and free giveaways!

Be sure to catch up on the first two post on the Why Kids Lie series. We’re not done yet!

When Hannah finally voiced the reason why she had lied about the crayon mark on the countertop (because she wanted to get Jacob in trouble), I didn’t know how to react. Getting angry rarely works to remedy a problem; in fact, I can say conclusively that it has never worked with my children. What a parent’s anger does is scare a child into believing one of several things: I’m wrong, I’m worthless, I’m unloved. In that moment, I realized my previous reactions to Hannah’s devious misdeeds only perpetuated their occurence. I was becoming more and more angry and Hannah was lying more often. 

So I took a deep breath. I took a literal step back, got down on my knees, and held Hannah’s delicate hands in my own.

Hannah, I said softly, your lying hurts my heart. I love you, and I will never lie to you. But when you lie to me, it feels like my heart is going to break into a million pieces.

Hannah’s chin began to quiver and her eyes became glassy with tears.

I don’t like lying, she replied, but I just don’t know how to stop.

I thought for a moment. How about this? When I ask you a question, don’t be in such a hurry to answer. I’ll try to be more patient as I wait, and when you do answer, I’ll ask you if you’re sure what you’re telling me is the truth instead of a story.

Hannah agreed to put a moratorium on lying and I agreed to be more patient and a little less reactive. There have been a few occasions on which I’ve had to remind her to think before speaking, usually on issues concerning the state of her room (read: disaster). For the most part, we are back where we were before lying got out of hand; in other words, Hannah still lies - just not as often.  

All kids lie at some point, and I do not believe there is a child who has never told even a tiny lie. Hannah’s lies have, at their worst, been numerous and ridiculous in nature. She lies about inconsequential things like having made her bed or hung up her clothes. But instead of me becoming furious and exploding over the act of lying, our conversations usually go something like this:

Hannah, did you brush your teeth?

Yes.

Hannah, are you sure you brushed your teeth?

Oh wait! I need to do that. 

 Or here’s a better example:

(me rounding the corner of the kitchen to find Hannah having just snuck Easter candy into her pocket)

What’s in your pocket?

A month ago, Hannah would have said: nothing.

But instead she took a few seconds to think and said, I just wanted a couple pieces of candy.

It’s progress . . .

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Join me next Tuesday for the last installment on my series about why kids lie, when I actually, you know, answer why kids lie.

If you’ve got a toddler or preschooler in the house, then The PreSchool Mama should be on your list of daily reads. Shabana offers exhaustive information about the growth and development of these pint-sized people and suggests age-appropritate activities that are fun and educational. Read my interview with Shabana and then head over to The PreSchool Mama!

How long have you been blogging, and how did you get your start?
Close to four  months now. I started The PreSchool Mama in December last year. I am primarily a freelance writer.  I used to teach a Montessori  preschool and the blog seemed like the perfect way to share my experiences with other parents, besides learning new things myself from them. And it’s been a great learning experience.

Describe “Shabana,” the woman behind The PreSchool Mama.
I am a shy Cancerian, not good at all at describing myself, but I am hardworking, tenacious (the crab!) too emotional for my own good. Not so good sides - I am a perfectionist, and a pessimist.  I am trying to conquer the pessimism, and concentrate on the good things that are, and not the bad things that could be,.

What would be a typical day in your life?
After the morning rush of packing my son off to school. I settle down to writing, and take a break to fix lunch and play housewife. I am online practically until midnight, but I take frequent breaks to spend time with the family, help my son with his home work, and yes, eat.

If you had a motto, what would it be?
It’s not exactly a motto, more of a personal belief - “It’s always darkest before dawn.” It’s got me through some rough patches.

What is your greatest aspiration, whether it is completely attainable or completely unrealistic?
I have a list of places I’d love to visit before I die,  including Egypt and Thailand.  Other than that, raising my son to become a decent, compassionate, and tolerant human being. We have it in us as moms to raise tolerant kids who have no prejudice, or a racist bone in their body.  You’d be surprised at the kind of “opinions” (picked up from elders) that I’ve heard from the mouths of 4 years olds.

Describe how blogging has or hasn’t changed you as a person.
It’s made me less afraid of the spotlight - you can’t really be a blogger  unless you’re willing to put yourself out there and participate in communities, among other things.  I am an introvert, so to step outside my comfort zone has been challenging, although I am getting better at it.

What is your greatest accomplishment (aside from your family)?
I am proud of being able to contribute to the family finances the way I do, working from my bedroom - that makes me quite proud.  I think I do a pretty decent job of balancing family and work - it’s not perfect, but I think I am getting better at it everyday.

Where do you see yourself five years from now?
In my own house hopefully! We’re going to begin work on our new house shortly, and I can’t wait to see it all come together. I know for a fact that I’ll still be writing, and I hope to be able to build up The PreSchool Mama to be the kind of place that answers all questions preschooler.

What do you hope to impart to your readers and to the people you meet in your life?
Apart from my husband and a couple of my friends, hardly anybody in my life knows about the blog.  But, I do get asked a lot of questions offline  from mothers who have preschoolers at home - it’s usually about helping them to pick up skills like alphabets and numbers, overcoming shyness etc.  I’d love for my readers to go away from my blog with at least some ideas that they can use with their kids.  It feels wonderful when a mother says “Great idea! I have to try that with my child!” It’s the best feeling! The blog is a labor of love, and I haven’t monetized it, so comments like that make my day.

Please add anything else you would like my readers to know about you and The PreSchool Mama.
As the blog has evolved, I’ve realized that I’d like moms to spend more time with their preschooler doing things that are fun for the child. I know we moms are busy all the time, whether we have one child or eight, SAHMs, WAHMs  or whatever , and time is a challenge.  But they grow up faster than you think, and  once they get to their teens, they won’t want to have too much to do with you, so grab the chance now!

If you have good news you would like to share, I invite you to leave it in the comments section. Or how about writing a Good News post of your own?

Isn’t it Good News when all three of your children work together to achieve a common goal without fighting?? Such was the case this morning as mine hunted for Easter eggs . . . . at 6:50. We’ve requested that the Easter Bunny fill the plastic eggs with a quarter apiece instead of candy, and the kids LOVE it. I’m so happy that 25 cents is still enough to make them feel like they are rich as royalty!

Good News that Granny, Papa, and Aunt Linda are coming to our house today after church.

Good News that Easter service is an hour later today and begins at 11:00 versus 10:00 - an extra hour to sit around drinking coffee.

Good News that I decided to ditch the idea of a big Easter dinner and have picnic fare, instead. Nothing says Easter like ham sandwiches and potato salad!

Good News that I read THREE books in one month. I finished the last book of His Dark Materials (The Golden Compass, The Subtle Night, The Amber Spyglass). I wept like a baby! Lyra and Will really got under my skin, and I was sad to see them go. After all, they had been a part of my life for almost everyday for the past month. And, for this hopeless romantic, the last book ended in a most cruel twist of fate. FANTASTIC series (and not at all controversial in my opinion). I will be posting a review of the last two books in the coming week if you are at all interested in reading it.

Good News that I have so many friends who are supportive of my extended breastfeeding. I may grouse  from time to time about how night-boobing is a bit disruptive to my quality of sleep, but I won’t be ready to quit until she’s ready to give it up. I’m all in favor of child-led weaning and really, Bridget only boobs (that’s a verb) when she’s tired. But for the past five nights, she’s fallen asleep without boobing. Woo-hoo!

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Have a great week filled with GOOD NEWS!

Weaning Bridget has been a slow process. Painfully slow.

Painful. Literally.

And yet there are times, at the end of those long and weary days, when there’s nothing so sweet as cradling my not-so-wee one on my lap in the rocky chair and nursing her into oblivion. 

Every so often, however, Bridget will say things which make me realize that perhaps, at 32 months, we need to work on weaning just a little bit harder.

Especially when she says things like, I love your big, beautiful boobs.

Uh. That’s just not right . . .

The other day I was driving with Bridget and Jacob in the backseat when out of nowhere Bridget said to me, Mom? I love you. You’re my best friend. I can’t even begin to describe the range of emotions I felt at that moment as my two-year-old professed her love and friendship for me, but I felt a humbled gratitude. Her words were so shocking to me, I laughed. And yet my heart was caught in my throat as I tried to choke back those sentimental mommy tears.

You’re my best friend, too, said Jacob.

Jacob was speaking directly to me, although Bridget mistakenly assumed he was exalting his feelings for her.

Oh, thank you! she said, with such enthusiastic sincerity I began laughing again. Thank you so much, Jo Jo! You’re my best friend, too!

And so it began. Our ride home for the next 7.5 minutes was filled with proclamations of love as we each exclaimed our passion for the other. It was a silly moment, and one I’ll hang onto forever.

If you don’t already know Sandy and her blog, 4 Reluctant Entertainers, you’re in for a real treat! Sandy is a long-time blogging friend who writes passionately about hospitality and serving others. Please take a few minutes to read my interview with Sandy, and then visit her blog and get to know her. 

1. How long have you been blogging?  About 18 months.

2. Describe “Sandy,” the woman behind 4 Reluctant Entertainers?  I’m a middle-aged wife to an amazing man Paul, the love of my life.  I’m the manager of our household, and I’m a carpooling, multi-tasking mom to 2 teens and 1 pre-teen kids (all three of whom play soccer).  I guess you could call me a Soccer Mom!  I love my family – we aren’t perfect by any means, and my husband and I constantly have to reel the family back in, with new and creative parenting ideas.

I love people.  I LOVE entertaining!  I love sharing hospitality ideas and inspiring others to reach out and give of themselves.  For me, it all starts in my home.

3. How has blogging changed you, if at all?  I love the friends I’ve met through blogland.  When I started, I had no idea what I was getting into, and the lives that I would be touching, just through my everyday living!  WOW!  My blog has become a creative outlet for me – one that I really enjoy!

4. Your posts about hospitality and giving are an inspiration to many people.  Do you have a favorite post, or is there one in particular that has resonated with readers?   So many posts have resonated with readers; it’s hard to keep them straight!  One that comes to mind is my “Keep it Real” post, which talks about my mission for my blog, as well as the topics of perfectionism and the joy stealers that get in the way of entertaining.  I’d also say that my Balcony Girls group has gotten a lot of attention.  People are always looking for new ways of sharing!

5. What one piece of advice would you give to reluctant entertainers everywhere in order to motivate them to open their hearts and homes?  Don’t read too many magazines or watch too many TV shows.  They are great for creative ideas, but they can also be overwhelming when it comes to standards.  They make things look so simple, when in fact, who has ½ of a day to put a flower arrangement together for a dinner party?  Keep it real.  Start simple and plan ahead!

6. If you had a personal motto, what would it be?  Relationships are more important than appearances things!  My blog is very distinctive, as it emphasizes relationships more than recipes, people more than projects, and kindness more than country living.  It urges people to put relationships first about image, teaching them how to make relating easier using their own style and creativity!

7. Do you have any plans to write a book based on your Ten Commandments?  The publishing world is very high-pressured, but it would be fun to write a book on this subject some day. **Sandy’s Ten Commandments are lessons on hospitality and entertaining**

8. What are your aspirations for 2008?  I love this question.  I really fly by the seat of my pants.  I am a working woman (besides working in the home as a mom!), so time is limited.  My inspiration comes from daily living.  Sometimes I don’t have a clue what my next post will be.  Then, “snap” – an idea comes to me, and I quickly write about it and take a photo.  I want to keep writing and encouraging others, I know that for sure.

9. What would you like your readers to take away from your blog?  I want them to know that entertaining is accessible.  Practicing hospitality should be a way of life, not a chore.  And for me, I am always thinking about the things I was taught as a young girl, and how I want to pass those lessons on to my kids!  I believe in passing the torch!

10. Please add anything else you would like your readers to know about you and 4 Reluctant Entertainers.  I’ve co-authored a book with my husband, Married but Not Engaged (Bethany House 2006), a book about reclaiming intimacy in your marriage.  I work from home as a billing specialist and I’m the carpool chief in our home.  My husband is an author and travels quite a bit speaking about his books.  We have 3 great kids – and there’s never a dull moment in the Coughlin household, unless we’re watching a boring movie!  Dinnertime around our table is very precious to us.  We are big on “conversation” and intertacting a lot at dinnertime – even with our kids’ guests! 

Last week I began my series on lying by relating my own childhood experiences and my daughter’s forays into creative storytelling and avoidance. I won’t write this series claiming to know what drives a child to lie; my only intent is to understand the reasons how it is with my own daughter and possibly, through this experience, shed some light on a touchy subject with which most parents must contend.

If you’ll recall from my last post, I had many personal items go missing only to discover them days later in Hannah’s dresser drawer. But even when I confronted her with the physical evidence, she pleaded ignorant and blamed the misdeed on one of her siblings.

I’ve had many confrontations with Hannah with regards to her lying. My emotions have run the full spectrum from yelling to cajoling to admitting feelings of hurt and betrayal; I’m not sure what prompts her to finally give in and tell the truth, but she always does. I suppose I should be thankful for that, right? I’m sure I’m not the only parent who has said something along the lines of, The truth may upset me, but a lie will upset me even more. This, I have said to Hannah on more than one occasion. I’ve also said things like, You better tell me the truth because if you think I’m mad NOW, wait ’til you see how mad I get when you keep lying to me! Hey, I never claimed to be the perfect parent. What I finally came to realize, however, is that I was approaching this lying business all the wrong way.

A few weeks ago, I entered the kitchen only to discover that one of my blessed children had written the word “Jacob” on our kitchen counter using a white crayon.

Jacob? I hollered. Did you do this, buddy?

Me? No way.

Are you sure?

Yeah. I can write my name A LOT better than whoever did that.

Jacob is nothing, if not honest. That boy will commit a punishable offense and then find you just to repent. Sometimes I don’t know if he is truly sorry or if he just gets a thrill from advertising what he’s done.

Hannah? 

What, Mom?

Did you do this?

Now, I can always tell when Hannah is lying, because she gets this blank stare on her face and her eyes go slightly out of focus. It’s almost as if she either didn’t hear what you asked, or English is her second language.

Did. You. Do. This?

blank stare

Hannah. Did you do this?

No.

Well, Jacob said he didn’t do it.

I didn’t do it.

And then what commences next is always a dizzying exchange of yeah-huh’s and uh-uh’s and did-so’s mixed with the occasional physical affront. Oh, how I love this job!

Hannah. Jacob said he didn’t do it. He says that’s not his handwriting, and I don’t think it looks like his handwriting. It looks like your handwriting.

Hannah crosses her arms over her chest and looks away, and I know she’s surrendered without even saying anything.

Honey, I say, putting my arm across her shoulder. It is not okay to lie. How many times have I said I would rather be disappointed with the truth than have you tell me a lie? Why do you think that lying is an okay thing to do?

shrugs shoulders: I just wanted to get Jacob in trouble.

Oh dear God, I think. She’s my sister in miniature form. My sister used to lie just to get me in trouble . . .

********************************* 

Be sure to come back next Tuesday for another installment on why kids lie.

Won’t you please join me at my other site?

To everyone who has commented in the last few days during my brief blogging funk, I truly appreciate it. I would have commented to each and every one of you in return, but WordPress is not delivering comments to my inbox. Please know that I am taking to heart everything you say. Thank you!

If you have good news you would like to share, please leave it in the comments section for all to see. Better yet, why not write a Good News post of your own?

I’m starting off the list today with the news that my husband’s grandmother passed away early Friday morning. While a person’s passing doesn’t usually conjure feelings of happiness, what was remarkable about Ian’s grandmother is that she lived to be exactly, to the day, 101 and 1/2 years. That’s quite a life!

I finished both The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife. I am now plowing my way through The Amber Spyglass. One word describes these books: fantastic! PS - Debi, I can’t believe you haven’t yet read these books; you, who has read every other book that has ever before been written. Get on it, already!

I give thanks for the chocolate, chocolate-chip, one-side-dipped-in-chocolate cookies from the Wegmans bakery. Most delicious!

A bothersome condition is healing nicely, which puts my mind at ease. After doing a little research on the condition (you don’t need to know the particulars, other than it was excruciatingly painful at times) and what homeopathic remedies would be most suitable to heal said condition, I began taking a round of Echinacea. What has been a persistant nuisance for the past month is almost gone completely. Nothing worked until I tried the Echinacea. All I can say is, whew!

Thanks for those brief moments of clarity. While I won’t give up blogging completely, I’ve got a few ideas brewing in my head about what I can do differently. And, my new ideas might benefit more than just me . . . . especially small-scale, independent designers! But, that’s all I’m going to say right now. I refuse to commit to anything. Let’s just say that, for now, not much will change around here other than the fact I may cut down my blogging time to just four or five days a week instead of seven. And, I’m going to eliminate the blogs from my Google Reader that I don’t read on a daily basis. I have to do it. For my own sanity. But gosh darn it, it’s gonna be tough. I’m loyal to a fault.

I felt mellow all week; not mellow in a bad way, but mellow in a calm, I-can-handle-most-everything way. I hardly yelled at the kids. Well, I hardly yell at them at all, but I was even more subdued than usual. I didn’t feel as anxious as a normally do. I wonder if the exercising and reading of fantastic books has something to do with it?

I received excellent feedback from both my editor and the project coordinator for my current writing gig about a bunch of articles I wrote recently. That’s always good news!

I was able to get out by myself yesterday - left the husband home with our three kids plus Jacob’s pal. Mwa ha ha! But seeing as how my husband is traveling this week and will be exempt from all childcare duties for four days, I thought a few hours to myself was deserved. I drank coffee, worked on my book, and pondered a few things, mainly why the women in Ithaca have absolutely no fashion sense and how in the world they think it’s okay to wear skin-tight jeans and stiletto-heeled boots. I don’t know much about clothes, but I do know that wearing jeans so tight that they practically split you in half is neither comfortable nor attractive.

Have a great week everyone!

I pared down my Google Reader from 100 subscriptions to 85, and yet I still had close to 150 feeds left unread. And I suddenly realized how ridiculous all of this is; blogging, I mean. Why does it feel like a job? It’s no longer a fun obsession for me; blogging has become an obligation. And I have to be honest, there’s a big part of me who just wants to chuck the whole thing and wash my hands of blogging forever. I spend too much time blogging when I should be writing query letters and working on my little book project.

Will I really give it up, though? Probably not. At least not for awhile.

This blog is like my waiting room to the professional world. I know I have somewhere to be, and yet I’m not sure to where I’m heading.

Honestly? I’m feeling burnt out. I’m tired. And I don’t know if this exhaustion is just a result of having had horrible sleep these past few nights with Bridget being sick (up three times for water, once for Gatorade, twice to tickle her back, too many times for the boob, tossing and turning) or if it’s because I feel like I’m trying to do too much.

I love my writing, but I am not currently doing the type of writing I would like to do because other things are getting in the way, namely blogging. However, I feel like I have much to say. To give up this outlet would be silly, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, I feel like blogging was my crutch during a time when I just needed to talk and have someone “listen.” But I feel like I’m growing up a bit, I’m becoming more self-assured, like I’m outgrowing blogging. Still, I can’t imagine leaving . . .

So maybe my relationship with blogging just needs to be different. But different how? 

I need a few days to gather my thoughts . . . .

It’s that time of the month again; no, not that time of the month. It’s time, once again, to put my monthly goals in writing. Doing so keeps me honest. If I believe the general public actually cares about my goals, I’m more likely to follow-through. In reality, I know that you don’t care; why should you? But if I believe you do, if I believe you might judge the content of my character based on my commitment to these goals, I’ll try harder to complete them. So, let’s recap the goals from February:

1. Clean out the medicine cabinet. Yes! I did this almost immediately. Frankly, I was getting a little tired of bottles of expired medication falling on my head each time I opened the door. And considering Bridget was habitually getting into the cupboard (which once prompted a call to Poison Control), I thought it only safe to get rid of temptation.

2. Finish steam cleaning/scrubbing the bathroom floor. Uh, no. Why? I’m not sure. Laziness? Quite possibly.

3. Finish sending out the kids’ school pictures. Yes! I had pictures left to send to my dad and to my younger sister.

4. Write and send a letter to my dad (we are basically estranged, but I keep hoping that one of these days he will acknowledge me and his grandchildren). Yes! This coincided with #3. Had I not a reason to write my dad, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. I’m really not sure you could even call it a “letter,” considering it consisted of, at most, three sentences. On a side note, I received a mass email from my dad’s current wife letting everyone know they are moving at the end of the month. I had heard this news through the grapevine (my aunt heard it from my grandpa who heard it from his and my dad’s mutual barber). While it didn’t come as a shock, the idea that I’ll never again set foot in that house was a little hard to swallow. Had I know that the last time I was in the house a decade ago would be THE last time, I might have lingered. Then again, I left the house abruptly in tears after having a horrible confrontation with my dad and step-mother in which I called them hypocritical, so-called Christians and in which my step-mother said to me, You aren’t prepared to know what I really think about you. Fun times! Anyway, I was supposed to see my dad this summer when we take a trip out to Wichita; he was going to meet my family for the first time. But now he is moving to Arkansas. His wife, with whom I’ve had more contact these last 10 years than my dad, said we would be welcome to visit them on our way to Kansas. I told her I would only visit at the invitation of my dad. So far, no invitation. And yet, I still send him pictures. Why? Why? Isn’t it time to sever the connection completely?

5. Organize the kids’ clothes to list on eBay. I didn’t do this, and not because I am lazy. Bridget’s preschool is holding its annual rummage sale in May. I’ve decided to donate the kids’ clothes to that. Our little co-op needs all the extra money it can get. I would rather it get the proceeds from the sale than have eBay make more money from their preposterous fees.

Overall, not a bad month! Here are the goals for March:

1. Write and send a query. I have at least five article ideas I came up with just today, but they won’t earn me any clips or paychecks by sitting on my desk.

2. Read a book. I’ve already read The Golden Compass, **psst - read my review** I am almost finished with The Subtle Knife, and I hope to have read The Amber Spyglass. Three books in one month - can it be done??

3. Exercise. I’ve already established the reason for my recent reading craze; it’s because I read while walking on the treadmill. You’d be amazed how quickly time passes. However, you must tread (ha!) carefully; I’ve almost fallen twice. I do walk at a quick clip for a good amount of time, which is great for stretching my legs after spending a fair amount of time hunkered in front of the computer. However, I need to start running to get a really good cardiovascular workout. Small steps, small steps . . .

4. Straighten out things with the school district. Ugh. I won’t even go into further detail.

5. Resume constructing meal plans. I haven’t much felt like cooking lately. Meals have been thrown together, which is so unlike how I normally do things. I blame the weather, in part. I’ve been quite tired lately. And, I hate my kitchen. No one likes to cook in a crappy kitchen.

Hey Mom, said Jacob. You want to know what’s in China that’s really great?

I could see where this was leading. Sure, Buddy. What great thing is in China?

The Great Wall of China!

How do you know about the Great Wall of China?

I make it all the time in the block corner at school.

But who told you about the Great Wall of China?

No one. I told myself. (duh) 

My husband and I attended the Kindergarten parent/teacher conference this past week for Jacob. Is it just me, or do you feel a certain amount of angst going into those meetings, like you are the one being evaluated? We were pleased to learn that Jacob has exceeded academic expectation and is now testing at a first-grade level. While this makes me extremely happy and proud, I feel elated only because I once questioned his ability to learn in a structured environment. We’ve always known Jacob is a smart fellow, but we wondered if any teacher would be able to deal with his special qualities. **Disclaimer: There is ongoing debate and evaluations to determine if Jacob falls on the autism spectrum, namely Asperger’s Syndrome, and the extent of his sensory issues.**

Our journey to find out what is “wrong” with Jacob began when he was not quite two. I’m not one to blame vaccines for Jacob’s issues, but I saw a remarkable change in his behavior a few days after his 15-month immunizations. I’ve never voiced this to anyone, namely because I don’t want to be one of those parents. Ultimately, I believe that vaccinations are good.

 Over the years, we’ve been shuffled between various medical professionals and specialists to help classify and treat Jacob accordingly. The only problem is, Jacob doesn’t fit neatly into any one category, which only makes diagnosing him all the more difficult. The only reason why I want a formal diagnoses at all is that receiving any sort of treatment is easier when there is a concrete diagnoses. If you don’t have a diagnoses, then every specialist with whom you meet wants to perform his or her own tests to determine what might be wrong. In other words, these specialists spend so much time filling out paperwork and scheduling appointments to confer with each other about the proper course of action,  nothing ever moves forward.

Nothing.Gets.Done.

Jacob was first evaluated through the school district when he was still in preschool. Those evaluations prompted meetings with a child psychologist which lead to meetings with a family therapist which took us back to the pediatrician.

He’s not eating at school. He’s having problems with fine-motor skills.

My pediatrician suggested contacting the Chair of the Special Education Department to request a meeting to discuss the possibility of going through another series of evaluations. I contacted the appropriate person in September 2007. In January 2008, we finally got our meeting.

Prior to that meeting, two specialists had been pulling Jacob from class to test and observe him. They determined that there was need for additional, more in-depth testing and assured me they would get started right away.

You should be stunned, as was I, to learn that on March 7, 2008, six months after my initial inquiry to the Chair of the Special Education Department, nothing has been accomplished. Why? They filled out the wrong paperwork.

They filled out the wrong fucking paperwork, and now everything has stalled while we wait for the school to get its head out of its ass and do something already. Can you tell I’m angry?

I learned of this from Jacob’s teacher, who was reluctant to tell me at all. He knew how I’d react. In all respects, I am a quiet person. But like any parent, mothers especially, I can become testy where my child’s best interests are concerned.

I am livid. I am seething with anger.

And what’s more, these evaluations do not ensure that Jacob will receive any aid at all. After the evaluations are complete, the Board of Special Education will meet to deliberate if Jacob might benefit from in-school assistance. It’s all up to them, regardless of how I feel or what I think.

And now? Jacob’s been picking on his classmates. Nice, huh? It’s nothing malicious, mind you; he just likes to test his limits. He’s never bad or mean; he just likes to burp in your ear continuously or pick at your shirt or swipe your crayons when you’re not looking or kick you under the desk. All this just to get a rise.

He wasn’t doing this at the beginning of the year. Personally, I think he is bored. Suffice it to say, he now has a behavior chart in class. Ever the perfectionist, Jacob takes his chart seriously. His teacher called the other day to talk about the positive changes he’s seen in Jacob’s behavior. He’s now working out his problems instead of resolving to tears or tantrums. He’s learning to share instead of swipe items with complete disregard to other kids’ feelings.

But seriously, that’s only a small consolation for how inept these so-called professionals, the people in whom I entrust my son’s education, really are.

All I can ask is, Seriously. WTF?

First of all, congratulations to Summer of Wired for Noise for winning Mandy’s beautiful handspun yarn from the latest endorsement and giveaway. Summer, be sure to contact me at woolgatherings@gmail.com with your mailing address so I can have your prize sent to you. I’m actually surprised that no more than three people entered the giveaway. Where were all you knitters on contest day? Just a reminder to my readers that every Wednesday is endorsement day (when I have one to post!). My endorsementees (if that’s a word) have been extremely generous in the past with their giveaways, so you might want to make a mental note to come back each week to see who’s advertising here. Perhaps you’ll win something!

I first met Summer through Cre8Buzz and then again at The Ultimate Blog Party 2008. We’ve visited with each other several times, and I can tell she’s someone I know I’ll like and whose blog I’ll read often. Why don’t you take a minute to visit her, too?

You may have noticed on the last giveaway that I limited entries to just the regular readers and commenters of both this site and Mandy’s. I deliberated doing that, because I don’t like excluding anyone. I based my decision on several factors, however. For one thing, this is not strictly a giveaway site; as a matter of fact, “free stuff” makes up a mere 1/7 of my weekly content (if even that), so I feel I can be a bit picky in who enters. I love my blog readers. I think you all are THE BEST bunch of groupies any blogger could ever have, and I look forward to meeting with you each day. So it began to feel a little . . . strange when new visitors would leave a comment on one of the giveaway posts with hopes that they might win. And then when I would draw the visitor’s name, I felt bad for my regular readers who didn’t win the great giveaway.

You see, I believe there are bloggers out there trolling the blogosphere looking only for free prizes. This may or may not have been the case on some of my endorsement posts, but there have been few commenters who’ve come back. I noticed this phenomena on my good friend’s site, Metropolitan Mama. Stephanie writes brilliant content, first and foremost. She also hosts many giveaways on her blog. However, her giveaway posts have garnered much more attention than have her posts where no prizes are involved. And it bugs me! Stephanie has since come up with her own set of rules, and I have to admit she’s a bit more inclusive than I am when when determining eligible entrants; perhaps I was a tyrant in my former life.

In any case, this is how it will be from now on. If you’re a lurker, you need to come out of the shadows so I know who you are. If you’ve been here for a few weeks and have yet to leave a comment, please say hello every now and again. You don’t need to comment on each of my posts, but once a week might be nice. And I promise to visit your blog, too. Heck, we might even become great friends! I would like for my friends to win these fabulous prizes, because it makes me happy when they’re happy. And the only way to become a friend is to not be a stranger.

And to those wonderful people whose blogs I visit regularly, perhaps you’ve noticed I haven’t been around lately (or maybe you haven’t noticed, in which case I need a huge ego check!). Well, I’m still here and making my way through my Google Reader. Seems I’ve become a little obsessed with adding new feeds, and I now have 99 subscriptions. I’ve had as many as 200 posts in a 24-hour period. Do you know how overwhelming that is, especially for someone like me who feels beholden to each and every one of you? I may come up with a system of thirds in which I divide my Google Reader into, well, thirds. Or, perhaps I’ll add one more feed and divide it into fourths so that everything comes out even. 

OY!

Now, I’ve got a really sick kid to tend to (Bridget). And frankly, she’s much more important than my Google Reader.

edited to add: Add one more sick kid to the mix (Jacob).

Phlegm and croupy coughs. Yay.

Well, that’s one I’m trying to figure out myself. Unlike my toddler tantrum and potty posts where I feel like I have a pretty firm grasp of what’s going on, I’m still working on understanding the motive behind why kids lie.

Save for the occasional white lie, I stick to the truth. I like rules and responsibility; they help to shape my life, which feels utterly chaotic and out of control most days. I know I told a few lies when I was young and under my mother’s care, but they were to protect myself. I’m aware that’s a vague excuse, so let’s just say that my lies never hurt anyone else. At least I don’t think they did.

But my dad is a strict man, and lying to him was punishable by several belt lashings. My older sister, during the years when I felt she despised me, would often purposefully cause mishief and blame it on me. Standing before my dad, hands covering my bottom, tears hot on my cheeks as I insisted my innocence, was a mind-wrenching and ulcer-inducing experience. My sister would wait in the wings smirking, satisfied that I was about to be lashed for no reason whatsoever.

As added torture, my dad invented The Man at Church. I am not a God-less person; I don’t lack spirit. But I have a complicated relationship with organized religion thanks, in part, to my dad. The Man at Church, whom I believed to be our pastor, could determine if I was telling a fib. All my dad had to do was pick up the phone and “call” The Man at Church, much like a parent “calls” Santa Claus, and I would be reduced to a convulsing, panicked mess. I never lied to my dad, and those undeserved spankings only impressed upon me the importance of telling the truth. But I knew I couldn’t win against The Man at Church. His verdict was THE end, and I had to accept the outcome, whatever it was.  I firmly believe that my dad would, at that point, make a decision as to whether or not to spank me based purely on how he felt at that moment. Consequently, I often sat in the church pew and wondered how our pastor, such a benevolent man in person, could betray me when I needed him the most.

A few months ago, I noticed a disturbing pattern to Hannah’s behavior. She began lying. It wasn’t just me suspecting her of lying; no, I had concrete evidence. The lies were small and ridiculous. I’d notice the contents of my makeup bag slowly disappearing. Has anyone seen my lip gloss? The gum would go missing from my purse. What happened to my new pack of gum? Cleaning Hannah’s room one day, I found my items, and more: the $5 I thought I had lost, earrings from my jewelry box, my favorite writing pen. These were things I was certain I had in my possession, so their disappearance had left me bewildered.

I confronted Hannah and was upfront with my accusations. I found my lip gloss in your drawer, Hannah, along with my gum and money and earrings and pens. Why did you take them without asking?

I didn’t take them.

What do you mean you didn’t take them?

I didn’t take them! Jacob must have put them there. Or Bridget. I don’t know how they got there.

I just stood there and looked at her, feeling anguished and confused that she would even consider lying to me. And what’s more, she was unwavering. She didn’t grin or flinch or even blink. I remembered how I had felt standing before my dad all those years ago, full of fear.

Hannah, on the other hand, felt no fear at all.

 *********************************************

Come back next week for the conclusion of this story and for the beginning of my series about lying.

Although I enjoy writing profiles about people of interest in the blogging world, I decided to switch gears this week and do something a little differently. Hannah, my eight-year-old daughter, is one of the most fascinating people in my life. So instead of the usual format, I offer these pint-sized insights in their true Q&A format.

What is the best thing about being eight years old?

Having more play dates. When you’re little, you don’t get to play with many people. But the older you get, the more people you know.

What is the worst thing about being eight years old?

Having to go to school.

Oh, really? Isn’t there some part of school that you enjoy?

I like gym, but I don’t really like math.

Do you have any advice for the younger kids at your school about entering third grade?

Yes! Get a head start in math. And, expect the unexpected. ‘Cause, you know, sometimes you think you’re gonna get a mean teacher and you end up with a really nice teacher. Or, you think you’re gonna get a nice teacher and you end up with a really mean teacher. That’s what happened to me in third grade.

Tell me about the hobbies you most enjoy.

I like talking to my friends (insert mom’s knowing giggle). I like to read a lot. Right now I’m reading The Tail of Emily Windsnap. I also like drawing make-believe things, like mermaids and fairies. Except mermaids and fairies really are real. I learned it in school. There once was a man on a boat, and these mermaids were singing and lured him into the rocks, and his boat crashed.

What about the violin? Don’t you like playing the violin?

I do. I really like the way the violin looks and sounds. But I don’t like practicing, because it hurts my fingers.

What would you like to be when you grow up?

Well, this is a hard question. I want to be ten things when I grow up.

Why don’t you just tell me your top three choices?

Okay. I want to be a veterinarian, a dolphin trainer, or a professional artist.

Do you like being a big sister?

I like having a little sister, but I really don’t like having a little brother.

Oh? And why not?

He likes to tease me and Bridget, and I really don’t like that.

And what about me? What do you like most about me?

I like when we have special mommy-daughter days. You do a lot of fun stuff with us. And you deal with our problems, especially when Jacob teases me and Bridget.

So what do you not like about me?

I pretty much like everything about you. Oh wait! I don’t like it when you yell, because it hurts my ears. (Oops! Why didn’t I see that one coming??!!)

If you have good news you would like to share, please leave it in the comments section along with a link to your post. And while you’re at it, why not make Good News Sunday a weekly habit? Write a Good News Sunday post of your own!

This past Monday, we experienced a glorious day of warmth and sunshine with temperatures near 60 degrees. For those of us deficient in vitamin D and hunched over due to cold, brittle bones, nothing felt better than to be outside, face raised to the sun, breathing in fresh air. 

I am exercising again! While dancing with Bridget the other day, I realized I have too many loose parts. Although I find committing to a specific chunk of time each day difficult, especially since I use Bridget’s preschool hours for the sole purpose of working, I’ve decided to walk briskly on the treadmill for 5 minutes before and after each new task I complete. And, I’m using my time on the treadmill to read! Bet you didn’t know I was so coordinated, eh? I’ve been logging in at least 30 minutes each day and have even begun running when I have extra time (which feels very unkind to certain parts of my body).

At Jacob’s parent/teacher conference, we learned that he, in Kindergarten, is now working at a 1st grade level in both language and mathematics. But . . . . (that’s a post for another day). There’s always a “but.”

Mandy is giving away this lovely hand-spun yarn.

Chrissybug had a baby boy!

I’ve added many new-to-me blogs to my Google Reader, thanks to the Ultimate Blog Party 2008. Spring is coming, which means a blogroll update!

My father-in-law celebrated his 74th birthday. Happy Birthday, Papa!

I finished reading the first book of the What’s in a Name reading challenge, The Golden Compass. I’ll be posting my review at Lis Garrett later this week.

Even though our creek flooded with melting snow, our basement has remained dry (fingers crossed).

Bridget continues to stay dry during her naps.

edited to add (Sunday morning): We’ve decided having lights and heat after being without for 12 hours is really good news. The power went out during dinner, although it was still light enough to see. The kids thought it a great adventure, as I scrambled for candles and Ian chopped wood. All three dressed in their warm woolies for a last-minute outdoor excusion to view the swollen creek and fallen tree limbs. When it was too dark to see anymore, they came inside where we gathered around the fire. One by one, they drifted off. Ian and I witnessed a spectacular flash of light, and we’re not totally convinced it was lightening. There was a strange, green glow to it, and the flash seemed to linger. A blown transformer in the distance, maybe? Whatever it was, it made my heart beat a little faster. In any event, we are glad to have things back to “normal” around here.

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Everyone have a great week!

It’s not just toddlers who say funny things. Even 8-year-old girls come up with a few good ones every now and then.

The other night at dinner, my husband and I were talking about the race between Clinton and Obama (our vote is split in this household). Hannah inquired about who we were going to vote for to become our next president. Sorry to all you Republicans, but McCain wasn’t even a factor in this conversation, nor any of the other what’s-his-name candidates.

Well, explained my husband, first we need to decide which Democratic candidate will get the nomination.

Oh, said Hannah. You mean, you have to choose between Clinton and Obama?

Yes, said my husband, and then we’ll have an election between the Democratic and Republican nominees to decide who gets to be the president.

Sensing my daughter’s confusion, I attempted to clarify the discussion. You see, deciding who you want to run for president is like making a choice between cake and ice cream. You have to choose one. You can’t choose both.

Hannah was silent.

Well, she said finally. If it were up to me, I’d just choose ice-cream cake.

If you are a first-time visitor and have found your way via the 5 Minutes for Mom, The Ultimate Blog Party 2008, welcome to Woolgatherings! My name is Melissa, and here is a basic laundry list of who I am to help you determine if you’d like to stick around or not *but please do!* And because I’m sure you have a gazillion blogs to get through on the party list, I’ll be brief and present just the basic facts:

I’m a 30-year-old Virgo. My birthday is September 22.

I have 3 children who like to believe they run the house. They are 8, 6, and 2 and BIG TIME maggots. We love them anyway.

I met my husband in an online chatroom (not a dating site), and we’ve been married happily for 9 years. We met, got married, bought a house and had a baby in less than a year (and not in that particular order!)

We live in New York. (no, not NYC)

I’m halfway to earning my college degree in both elementary education and nursing, but I work at home as a freelance writer under the name Lis Garrett. edited to add: I am not currently in school pursuing those degrees! Although I write mostly web content, I am branching out into print publication, as well. Lis Garrett is where I document my thoughts on and experiences with writing. My daughter and I are working on a collaborative short story about a mischievous cat (and that’s all I care to divulge).

Although I’m a registered Democrat, I’m fairly middle-of-the-road with my political views. Close-minded people really tick me off, though, so I rarely discuss politics or anything too controversial on this site. My blood pressure is high enough as it is.

I love to watch TV. I have many favorite shows, the extent, of which, is embarrassing. Thank goodness for DVR! There’s LOST and The Office and Heroes and How I Met Your Mother and 30 Rock and . . .

I’ve been know to read, too. When I find a book I enjoy, I’ll even ignore the TV!

I talk about people.

I talk about parenting.

I talk about cool sites and products.

I talk about whatever the heck I feel like, such as gardening, good news, and my son’s challenges (which are a challenge to everyone else, too)

I host cool contests and encourage people to do nice things.

I’m the guest judge for March’s Write-Away Contest, hosted by Scribbit.

By the way, this is what I look like, although I’ve taken to wearing my glasses on a full-time basis. ‘Cause, you know, your body starts to do weird stuff once you turn 30. I just can’t wear contacts anymore. Phooey.

One of my most popular posts is How to Make a Pirate Hat.

One of my most popular pages is Support Entrepreneurs.

Yes, there’s a lot of fun stuff that goes on at Woolgatherings, so be sure to stick around!

*If you would like to visit the homepage, click http://www.MelissaGarrett.wordpress.com . Don’t forget about my other site at http://www.LisGarrett.com . *

Mandy, blog author of Sew Spun and etsy shop owner by the same name, creates little woolen pretties for sale. Lately she’s been using a technique called needle felting, which requires the use of a sharp, barbed needle and an artist with a vision. Mandy jabs the felt with the barbed needle in a continuous up-and-down motion, blending the fibers to create an extraordinary and colorful work of art.

With needle felting, Mandy creates pins and brooches, wall art, felted bowls, and pin cushions. I own one of Mandy’s pin cushions, and it’s found its way into my daughter’s play kitchen on more than one occasion to serve as a delectable treat. Mandy’s needle felted items are truly sweet!

In addition to creating art, Mandy also spins and dyes her own yarn during warmer months. In fact, you can sign up for her yarn-of-the-month club in which you will receive a new skein of wool yarn each month for the duration of 3 months. While you’re waiting for this winter weather to pass, however, Mandy has ready-spun wool in her shop. Just look at this beautiful cranberry Merino wool yarn!

Because Mandy is a hard-working mother herself, she would like to do something to recognize and reward another hardworking mother. Mandy is calling for independent designers to donate a handmade item for her Ultimate Mother’s Day Giveaway to be included in a gift package. If you are interested in donating an item or would like to know more details, please contact Mandy. Or, if you would like a shot at winning the gift package either for yourself or someone else, sign up.

Mandy would like to offer one lucky reader 42 yards of handspun Corriedale wool pictured below. Isn’t it lovely?! To enter the contest, please leave a comment on this post between now and March 11^th, noon eastern. **Sorry, but only those people who read and comment on this blog or Mandy’s blog regularly are eligible to win this prize. This is done to disqualify those fair-weather blog readers who are only trolling for free products. This is a paid endorsement.*

If it happens, it happens at the grocery store.

The first time it happened with my kids, I was hugely pregnant with Bridget, very close to delivery and completely exhausted. Those were the days when a then three-year-old Jacob still took naps. Against my better judgement, I had dragged my kids to Wegmans in the middle of the afternoon. For those who don’t know, Wegmans is the creme de la creme (thank you, Kristi) of grocery stores. It has every type of food and sundry item you might possibly imagine, including a playroom in which to place your children while you shop. The only catch is, of course, that you’re tethered to a beeper in case one of your kids happens to need you.

On this particular occasion, I had yet to make it through even half the store before my beeper alarmed and beckoned me back to reality. I vented a mental, crap!, and quickly wheeled my cart to the playroom. Jacob needs to go potteeee, said the attendant in what I thought, at the time, was the most annoying sing-song tone of voice ever. Remember, I was uncomfortably pregnant; pretty much everything pissed me off at that point, including a child who could not hold his bladder for an hour, even after having gone to the bathroom upon arrival to the store. Before long, I had both Hannah and Jacob walking next to me, neither of whom wanted to return to the playroom. Great.

Long story short, we made it through the entire store without incident until we got to the checkout lane. If memory serves me correctly, the whining commenced over a package of M&M’s. I said no, Jacob whined. I said no, Jacob pleaded. I said no, Jacob screamed, took off running and literally flung himself on the floor a few aisles down.

A few key points to remember are that Jacob was three; I was huge, exhausted, and on the verge of tears; and everyone was staring. You could have heard a pin drop with the attention he commanded at that moment. I’m not kidding when I say everyone was looking at me and at Jacob. I could feel their judgements just as plain as if someone had physically slapped me in the face. 

Now, there are many schools of thought regarding public tantrums. You can remove the screaming child and have a time out in the car. Yeah. Right. Toddlers consistently have tantrums at the most inopportune moments, usually when everyone is hungry and tired and has a cart full of groceries. I was not about to abandon my load on account of my screaming kid. You can give in to what the kid wants. Again, yeah right. Jacob may have been tired, but that was one fight from which I was not about to back down. I didn’t want Jacob to learn that to get what he wants, all he needs to do is throw an incredible fit. We’ve had many private struggles, exactly like that one, where we’ve been at a stand-off for over an hour. I don’t often give in once I’ve made up my mind, because I have kids who’ll use every moment of weakness to wear you down. They are evil, truly evil, at times. Remind me to tell you the poopy diaper incident another day.

I will tell you that the one and only saving grace to this public tantrum was the nice grandmotherly lady who very quietly began taking the groceries out of my cart and placing them on the conveyor belt. It’s okay honey, she said. All of us mothers have been there before. I swear to you that I have tears in my eyes just thinking about her, even almost three years later. To be sure, I was too choked up from gratitude to speak to her then, although I did manage a meager thank you. Out of all the people there, including young parents themselves, no one but that lady stepped forward to help me.

Eventually Jacob wound down, but it was a good 20 minutes that everyone had to listen to his screams of protest and witness him rolling on the floor, truly rolling on the floor, like a child possessed. I blamed myself, of course. I knew very well that I shouldn’t have taken my kids to the grocery store in the middle of the afternoon, yet I neglected my own good sense.

These days, Jacob is better at controlling his public outbursts, although they still happen on occasion. Now I have another toddler to worry about. I’ll spare you the details of the tantrum Bridget threw in the Frozen Foods section at Wegmans one time. Suffice it to say, there was a lot of back-arching and loud wailing, to the point I thought someone might think I was attempting to kidnap her. It’s taken me having three kids, but I think I’ve learned a little bit about how to curtail the public tantrums.

Listen to your toddler. The same steps apply to preventing public tantrums as to preventing tantrums in the home. In short, do not take your child out when he is overly tired. Make sure he is well-fed, and keep a snack and drink on hand. Also, have a few small toys available to hold his interest.

Squelch the tantrums before they start. Find something, anything, to distract your toddler. Thanks be to Wegmans for the electronic train they have erected that chugs around the candy display. My Wegmans has a huge candy display located smack dab in the middle of the store. Just when your toddler starts to become impatient with sitting in the cart, there is the train to re-energize his spirits long enough for you to finish your trip. Whoever thought to put the train there is an absolutely brilliant person, because it has saved my shopping trips from going sour on more than one occasion.

Praise your toddler. Probably the last thing you want to do in the face of a tantrum is say nice things to your toddler, especially when what you’d really like to do is throw him over your knee (not that I would do that, but I’ve felt like doing it). What really distresses me is when I hear parents saying ugly and nasty things to their kids in public. It makes me wonder what these parents say to their children in private. I’ve heard phrases like, You’re rotten! and You’re such a bad kid! more than I care to recall. But if you  say things like, I really like how you sit nicely or, I could really use your help with this important shopping trip, your toddler might act accordingly. *this works more for older toddlers than younger ones*

Ignore everyone else. This is easier said than done. You might as well give everyone a stone to throw at you, because most are thinking what a horrible parent you are and what a wretched kid you have. I know; I was once one of those people. Of course, this was before I had kids of my own and it happened to me. I have found myself on plenty of occasions helping some overloaded mother whose children are acting less than stellar. There was the time I helped the mother whose toddler had vomited all over the place and her older child was screaming hysterically. There was also the time I helped the mother whose older child had made a snack of the baby and I thought for a minute the mother was going to bite the kid back. Sometimes, all a mother wants to hear is, Can I help you with something? to put her at ease. I’ve made silly faces to distract kids so mom can find exactly what she’s looking for. And I do it willingly, because I know how horrible it feels when you are standing in the spotlight and your