Bragging Rights

I have this awesome overachiever son. He's the kind of kid who's ahead of his grade in math, has papers he writes get read aloud in class by the teacher, and scores A's on science projects. Ya--I have no idea how he got to be this way, either. But I'm loving it.

Today I'm sharing a fun poem he wrote:
What do Scholars do When the Teacher Isn’t Looking?
By Daniel Chesley

When teachers don’t look,
We make funny faces.
What else do we do?
Leave books in bad places!

We get out some paper,
Then fold it a lot,
Out comes the airplane,
Oh, yeah! Evil plot!

So then get it ready,
As the clock goes tick,
Pull your arm backward,
Then give it a flick!

It flies around the room,
The teacher doesn’t look,
She is way too busy,
She’s reading a book.

Down it’s descending,
The small paper craft.
Then, something’s just blowing;
A little wind shaft.

It blows the plane up,
High up to the sky,
Then down it descends,
To hit the teacher’s eye.

“Who threw that airplane?”
She cried in a rage,
She was nearly blind,
Not to turn a page.

The room is so timid,
No one says a word,
And so not a sound
By the class had been heard.

The teacher says, “Fine!”
Goes back to her book,
I yearn to get up,
‘Cause I need a look.

I creep off my seat,
Then crawl on the floor.
I am very careful,
When I dart out the door.

I sneak up on teacher,
Then take a little peek,
I see a little bird,
With a very long beak.

It is called a Toucan,
It said in the book.
I lean in closer,
Just for a better look.

That was a mistake,
For then I was caught!
The teacher was angry,
I had a dumb thought.

Was sent to the office,
Right on the double,
The principal was mad,
For I was in trouble!

So now, my dear children,
As I read to you,
Do not be naughty,
Or you’re in deep doo-doo!

How Big is your Box?

(image courtesy of legacytrunks.com)
My husband and I have been talking quite a bit about the growth and change I've gone through the last few years. And, subsequently, the growth and change my changes have put the family through. Don't get me wrong; he's nothing but supportive. Sometimes I think he wants this more than I do.

Because I asked him, "When do I get to crawl back into my box?"

And he said, "You don't." Gotta love him.

Before I accepted my other role in life, that of being an author, I was a mostly-contented wife and mother. The discontent came in the form of work. I hated my job, and always felt there was something "more" I should be doing. Don't get me wrong--I had a dream job, but it didn't satisfy me. If fact, over the years, it drained me of creativity and left me frustrated and angry. Mostly the frustration stemmed from why I couldn't just be satisfied by this dream job. I mean, I got to work in my pj's, didn't have to interact with customers, was highly respected and earned an incredible wage for a person with no college education.

Looking back, so much makes sense. The times I'd spend in the shower imagining what I'd say in front of large groups of people. I didn't dream of the public life--the part of my life I most enjoyed was being anonymous. But, in direct contrast with that, I'd practice what to say in front of crowds.

Then someone said to me (and the rest of the congregation), "Life's too short to not do what you love."

The timing was perfect. I'd just begun my journey of self-discovery. And this really hit me, hard. I knew what I loved--my family and writing. But, it was another year or so before I sighed, looked heavenward and said, "Okay. If this is what You want me to do, then I'll do the very best I can. You've got me."

The learning curve is sharp. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing so much more, working so much harder, moving so much faster.

And, sometimes, I just want to crawl back into my box and be the invisible one again.

The problem? I think I outgrew my box.

Once Upon a Time...

Morgan was bothering me, blah, blah, blah...

Direct quote from my then 2 yr old niece. Priceless stuff.

I really love kids. Don't misunderstand; I'm not always a fan of all the work involved in raising kids, but I do really enjoy having them in my life. My own kids, kids I tend, nieces, nephews--it's like having my own, personal "Kids Say the Darndest Things."

My son, coming to me with tears in his eyes, "Brandon can't fly."
Stepdaughter, when learning she was not flying from AZ to OK, but traveling by car. "All the way?!" (they were in NM at the time lol)
Son, all alone in his room playing. "Jeffrey? What?"

And then there are the fun ways they choose to pronounce words:

Farmady (Pharmacy)
Feedeere (Theater)
Dutch (Brandon--no idea, my daughter started calling her big brother Dutch and we never learned why)

Limitless. Charming. Troublesome. Endearing. Children.

And, no, Brandon still hasn't master the art of flight. :)

Glorious, Elusive Sleep

Doesn't this baby look blissful?

I'd love to be asleep right now.

I admit it; I love sleeping. It's honestly my favorite thing to do, ever. And lately I feel like I've been trying to make up a lost decade of insomnia. It's not that bad, really, but, sometimes....

We were without internet last week, so I missed all my regularly scheduled blog posts. Never fear--I made good use of my time. Not only did I finish my book, I also now have 2 girls with 2 Easter dresses ready to go for next month. I read 4 books. I made dinners. And, I didn't really miss the internet.

Let's get real. I missed it. I honestly felt like I'd lost a limb or was in a cast or something. Part of my regular schedule had been interrupted. And my son thinks he doesn't deal well with change...

The hardest part was feeling like I let people down. My blogs didn't get done. Emails didn't get answered. My poor writer group showed up at my house Thursday expecting to hear a bunch of info on ebooks, and all my info was online still. Sigh.

But we survived. And, I do get a lot more done without the internet. :)

The Worst Feeling

I worked my tail off yesterday (I wish, but that's a different story). When I sent my hubby off to work (as usual) and climbed into bed around 11 last night, I was more tired than anyone has a right to be. Without my usual nighttime ritual of listening to music and playing games on my iPod until my eyes wouldn't stay open, I started to drift to sleep almost right away.

In that peaceful, sleepy state when you can feel yourself drifting away, my thoughts wandered to my husband. And then a voice came to me, clear as anything, and said, "He's dead."

Sleep evaporated. I got that horrible, sinking feeling like my entire life had changed--and for a second I believed it.

Fortunately, reason set in quickly and I realized it was just my subconscious being incredibly cruel to me. Incredibly. Cruel.

I did convince myself I was being stupid and went to sleep, but I will admit to breathing a sigh of relief when I heard his voice this morning from the living room.

Sometimes, having an overactive imagination is simply not fun.

Humbling Moments

My son wrote this poem at school yesterday. He shared it with his class, and then read it in the van on the way home. Then he read it to me. He's had a lot of his classmates request a copy of it. I'm stunned. Utterly stunned. And humbled. So I'm sharing it with all of you.

"You're My Friend"
by Daniel Chesley

When I was doing my math test,
and wanted to cheat off your paper,
you told me it was wrong.
When I was about to spray-paint the walls,
you stopped me.
When I tried to start smoking,
you threw away my cigarette. (which he misspelled, love that boy)
You did those things for my own good.
That's why you are my friend.
I didn't know that then, so
I'm sorry I got so mad,
and did something so bad.
I wish I didn't have to tell you this,
standing at your grave.

Did I mention he's 11?

Focus, Focus!

What do you do when you know you need professional medical attention in order to get better, but your bank account doesn't cover the cost?

You probably suffer, like I do.

I did get over the sinus thing, finally. I think fighting the virus has awakened my mono virus, because I've been absurdly exhausted. But now, just as I feel mostly on the mend, I've started experiencing some intense pains. After a few days of analysis, I've determined it's probably more of a muscle ache issue than an internal organ issue, which is something. So that means I either need a chiropractor or a massage--which, ironically, cost about the same.

The short story is I have a hard time sitting for long periods, which has put me even farther behind in the edits I'd hoped to have done by now. The long story is I am having a hard time doing anything, and I can feel the other muscles in my back tensing and tightening in their effort to compensate for the sore muscles I've been favoring.

I may have a rib or two out. Coughing can do that, and I've been coughing a lot. Been there, done that. Hate repeating the act.

I'm really tired of being all messed up. At this rate, there's no way I can wait until all my edits are done before I work on repairing my body--the original plan. It's funny how some things just make themselves a priority, no matter how you personally feel about them. :)