Confessions

First, I'd like to say thanks for all of the birthday wishes I received here and for all of the wonderful book suggestions given in the fairy tale post...I am a year older, but at least I have lots of reading material to spice up the new year!

Currently, I need an attitude makeover. I'll share a little bit of my feelings here, because I know that other moms read this blog - and hopefully, you'll recognize where I'm coming from.

I hate it when I get this pinched-breath sort of feeling, because I am well aware of the blessings that actually overwhelm my life. And my children are the best and most beautiful of them all...but every now and then, especially when my last solo venture into the world to do something Christie-ish (like browsing in a bookstore) is at best a vague memory (early spring?), the routines get to me. Seriously - do you ever feel like if you have to pick up the pieces of those same puzzles one more time in a twenty four hour period that you might spontaneously combust? It's these cycles that ever hurtle forwards that can get to me - the laundry, the dishes, the crumbs that mysteriously end up all over the carpet (eight times a day! I don't understand how they sneak this stuff out of the kitchen!), the tussles between toddlers that invariably end in tears and the guilty party hiding under the bed...I feel guilty even writing this stuff down, but it's the truth. Every now and then, I want to run away. Just for a few hours. Just long enough to eat a snack without having to share it and maybe to drink something hot without worrying about small hands overturning the cup...just long enough to get through a chapter of something without an adventuresome two year old trying to yank the curtains down from their rods...if Neil didn't work such a consuming job, there might be more chances for me to have those hours...but he does, so there are these times when the sameness of every day begins to glaze over the joys therein...

Like today.

So maybe venting a little to you, blogosphere, will ease up some of the frustration. In hopes of reminding myself of what I should be saying instead of complaining, I'm including a classic prayer written by St. Thomas Aquinas that I have always loved. I'm also adding a wonderful painting by Craig Nelson, an artist I have just discovered. Definitely check him out.

"Grant, O Lord my God, that I may never fall away in success or in failure; that I may not be prideful in prosperity nor dejected in adversity. Let me rejoice only in what unites and sorrow only in what separates us. May I strive to please no one or fear to displease anyone except Yourself. May I seek always the things that are eternal and never those that are only temporal. May I shun any joy that is without You and never seek any that is beside You. O Lord, may I delight in any work I do for You and tire of any rest that is apart from You. My God, let me direct my heart towards You, and in my failings, always repent with a purpose of amendment."

Zzzzzz

How you know your new story idea isn't going to lift off the ground :

You fall asleep on your keyboard while drumming up scenes (literally, keyboard imprints on face and legs numb from awkward crossed position). Yes, that's right. Your own brain children (ie, characters) bore you into unconscious slumber.

That, my friends, is an undeniable sign.

So....Hot....

The temperature at noon today was at about 107. It is miserably hot here in the southern part of the US this week...opening the front door feels like opening the oven door. When I break a sweat just getting the kids into the car? Yeah. That's too hot for me.

My posts have been scanty this week...we've had much more activity around here than usual. Vacation Bible School began on Monday. It's Sean's first year and he is having a blast...every day he comes home full of information about his lesson, snacks, and games. Christian has been having his own party in the nursery section of the church. New toys and animal crackers! Woo! I was recruited to work in the craft station, so I've been busy with hot glue guns and pipe cleaners. The theme for the week was Water Works Park and so the kids, at least, have been able to cool off outside with water games. I've been really tempted to jump in on one of those!

Tomorrow's the last day. I mentioned this to Sean earlier today and he asked me (again) if kindergarten is next. Sigh. Those wings are spreading...and the Mommy is already feeling some separation anxiety. I guess this is the bittersweet nature of parenthood. We work hard to teach them independence and are so pleased when they can feed themselves and no longer need diapers and drink from big kid cups...but then the day comes that they're ready to go out into the world and use that independence without us. And we know it's good and important that they do this growing up thing - but we can't help wishing it all hadn't gone by quite so quickly.

But Who Gets Custody of Santa?

I find this article from the Telegraph.co.uk extremely interesting. Apparently the North Pole has been claimed by Russia..."veteran Arctic explorer Artur Chilingarov descended 14,000 feet in a three-man deep sea submersible and dropped a Russian tricolor cast in titanium onto the seabed."

People aren't too thrilled with the idea. Despite the agreement made within the boundaries of the UN about this territory, it's bound to get ugly as there's believed to be ten billion barrels of oil waiting for a happy owner to claim them. Add that to the global warming issue and you've got a place important to the future of the earth...(those melting ice sheets, experts are saying, could even open up the infamous North East passage for commercial traffic within eight years).

Who knows what will happen? I just hope it's managed peaceably.

Because the elves do not handle conflict well.

Permission to Whine...

The always fun Luisa tagged me with this meme this morning...and I'll take her up on it. It's not often that we have permission to voice disgruntled feelings. And as my mother says - when it's your mud puddle, sometimes it's okay to wallow in it. (As long as you eventually get out and shower, of course.)

5 people who will be annoyed that I tagged them:

Betsy
Carrie
Eva
Hannah (because it's about time that you started your own blog!)
Amy Jane (I know you don't usually do the meme thing, but maybe this will serve to inspire some future post.)

4 things that should go into Room 101 to be banished from the earth forever:

Child abuse. All forms.

Realistic horror movies that just serve to perpetuate fear and violence. They give me nightmares and make me afraid to be in my own backyard. I don't like 'em.

Barbie Girl by Aqua. I don't know why. I just have detested this song from the first time I heard it.

The last season of 7th Heaven. So. Many. Reasons.

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently:

Calling other people any variation on the word 'stupid'.

Scraping silverware on plates. (My siblings still do this on purpose just to make me crazy.)

Grabbing a book out of my hands while I'm reading it. Not a good idea. Ever.

2 things you find yourself moaning about:

Writing anything 'official' about my fiction - a query, a synopsis, an outline....the bane of my scribbling fun.

Potty training. Will it ever end?

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself:

That I have lots of pet peeves? Because I really had so many answers - I had to pick and choose...I think I'm an idealist. I have pictures in my head of how things should be (probably all picked up from sources such as Little House on the Prairie and L.M. Montgomery...) and it stresses me out when reality interferes. For instance - would Anne and Gilbert ever through Saw? I think not. The imagination is meant for creating works that are beautiful and reflect something important about life and faith - okay, so the dark stuff comes into play (and I realize that this is in my own work)....but the important thing is that it has a point. The bad stuff works into good stuff - or at least shows that there's hope. (And the 7th Heaven thing? That just has to do with aspiring for quality and not quantity. Another whole post.)

In a Fairy-Tale-ish Sort of Mood

During a recent trip to the movies, I saw a preview for Philip Pullman's The Golden Compass. This was a book I received as a gift waaaaay back in 1997 (I know this for sure from the inscription, which begins 'to the girl who always has her nose in a book'. Apparently a decade hasn't changed me all that much). It's fantasy and is the first book in Pullman's trilogy - which, unfortunately, I never finished reading.

I pulled the book out and reread it last night. There are things I didn't know to catch as a thirteen year old, such as the fact that these books are drawn from Milton's Paradise Lost and the controversial subject matter of the Dust, which is supposedly related to original sin. I can't elaborate on that without finishing the books - many mysteries were left unsolved in the first installment. But The Golden Compass is full of adventure and it was fun getting caught up in it again...

As I read it, I realized that it has been a long time since I have read a novel that is purely fantasy. I've reread Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy and Lewis' Narnian books in the past couple of years, but that's about it. It's odd, because as a kid I loved Madeleine L'Engle's science fiction books and I remember devouring Ursela Le Guin's Earthsea series...I think that I have this idea of grown-up fantasy/sci-fi books as books filled with vampires and werewolves and badly written cliches, which doesn't make me want to read them.

I'm hoping that I have misinformed myself...because I enjoy stepping into worlds different from my own and I'm sure that children's literature doesn't have a complete monopoly on good literary fantasy.

So I'm hoping to expand my reading list - if you have any suggestions, please let me know!

Looking Forward To...

Becoming Jane, starring Anne Hathaway, is going to be released August tenth...and I cannot wait to see it.

Here's the link to check out the trailers and other film related items - www.becomingjane-themovie.com...

If you like Jane Austen's novels (I do!) and Anne Hathaway's acting (I do!), then you'll be as excited about this movie as I am...

Why Didn't Ben Franklin Think of This One?

The newest proverb around our house, courtesy of Sean's newest try to convince me that I should really wake up before seven am:

"Get up! It's morning! I need breakfast! Mommy, don't sleep on the sun!"

I'll definitely be turning that one against him when he's fifteen and convinced that ten-thirty on a Saturday is soooo early...

A Beautiful Thing

If I were Julie Andrews in a swirly skirt and musically gifted children in my charge, singing of my favorite things during a thunderstorm - this, dear friends, would be one of the first items I'd melodically appreciate...

Love This.

Basically, it's like Netflix for books...though the company has been around for a while, I just discovered it via a mention on the Publisher's Weekly website. The cheapest package is $9.99 a month - and for that, you can have two books sent to you as many times as you can fit in during thirty days...free shipping, no late charges, and a large inventory from which to choose. I love knowing that new books are heading towards me...and since it's so easy to browse, I found myself looking at authors I've never heard of before. With one easy click, I can add them to my list and poof! Broadened horizons.

If you're a book lover (especially if you're a book lover with kids who don't exactly have the patience for long, leisurely trips through the grown-up sections of the library), this could be just the thing for you.

A Letter

Dear Blog,

It must be said. You, dearest Blog, are covered with dust and layers of loneliness. You're not meeting my eyes right now - could it be that you feel abandoned? Do you resent that you've been left to fend for yourself in cyberspace?
I take full responsibility and I offer my deepest apology. I do, however, have a rather wonderful excuse.
The novel is finished. It is, of course, still in need of lots of reviews and edits - but I finally wrote the end. In order to get to that point, I had to put all of my concentration into writing....which resulted in my absence from you. But it's done - and now, during the ensuing search for an agent (yikes!), I will have more quality time for you.

Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Love, Christie

Indulgences

Father's Day weekend was a blast. It was so fun, in fact, that the boys and I had a spontaneous mini-vacation that only ended this afternoon.

We celebrated with Neil and his dad on Friday night...and Saturday morning, after his flight to Colorado left (his band has been playing for a church youth camp all week), we headed up to my hometown to visit with my family. Whenever I'm back there, I have this urge to just stay - there's this wonderful mix of past and present that I don't have anywhere else. There are aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents - it's an entire community of family that sort of makes coming back here to our house seem a little lonely. And, of course, eating Sunday lunch made by the hands of my grandmother, mother, and my mom's sister makes anything I attempt to cook seem colorless and just plain sad in comparison. If I could commute two hours every Sunday for that meal...I'm telling you it'd be worth the cost of the gas.

As the boys get older, it gets easier to travel - when they were more on the side of babyhood than toddlerhood, it felt like every road trip was a precarious, daredevil experiment (will they cry all night in someone else's house? will they spit up on some one's carpet? will they scream every time someone picks them up?). But now interruptions in routines don't bother them as much - during the past two visits, as a matter of fact, they've barely paid any attention to me at all. They love playing with my little cousins and wrestling with my uncles, talking to my aunts and grandmothers, running through the yard after the go-carts and looking at my grandparents' apple trees and grape-vines...and I love watching them discover how fabulously fun and lovable our family members are.

And now...I haven't posted any pictures in a while, and I borrowed a few from my mom's digital stash...so here are some faces to accompany all of the names.

This is Sean, loving the Mexican food that my aunt and Mom made on Saturday evening. It really was a forget-about-the-fork-and-just-eat-it-by-the-handful kind of good.

Christian felt the same way about the Oreo cake we had on Sunday. You can see that Sean's anxiously waiting for his piece back there.

This was during our last visit - Christian was trying to help my brother out after the go-cart ran out of gas. He's my Hercules.

My siblings - Mandy, Jeremy, and Hannah. Aren't they good-lookin', all dressed up for church?

A few months ago - Sean and my mom.

Quintessential Dad humor. This picture cracks me up.

And I'll leave you with a few big smiles...

Generation Gap

My little brother is spending this entire week with us, which is a lot of fun. My parents are away for a church conference, my youngest sister is with an aunt and uncle in order to babysit their kids during work hours, and my other sister is busy with her job (this is definitely the first time the younger set has all been separated like this - I'm sure my mom will be happy to have her little flock whole again!). It's cool to have Jeremy here - Sean and Christian love playing with their uncle and I'm having a blast getting to have one-on-one time with him. I haven't spent this much time with him since before I left home - which means he was about three years old. He's ten now, so you can be sure that his interests have changed. For example, he no longer gets excited about Blue's Clues and he can take care of his own bathroom activities. Sometimes change is good. Hee.
Anyway, I'm still unpacking boxes here in the new house, and yesterday I found my yearbook from my fourth grade year. Since Jeremy just finished the fourth grade, I thought he might find it interesting to look at my fourth grade picture...he did think that it was pretty funny (I'm definitely all big glasses and feathered bangs).
Here's what wasn't funny: he looked through some of the pages and pointed to a candid classroom shot. In total disbelief - "Your teachers used chalkboards? How old is this yearbook?"
Uh-huh. Thanks, little brother. I suddenly saw myself through his eyes...and he made me recall times in elementary school when my friends would talk about their older brothers and sisters who were married and had kids...and I'd think man, those people are old.
(Deep, deep sigh) Yep. Officially - that's me.

Another Example of How the Best Things In Life Are Free

When I was a kid, my dad was one of those people who would tune his radio in the car to (groans and many rolls of the eyes by my former teenage self) am radio. AM. Talk shows, interviews, weather, music (without words!). And even if he stayed on the FM dial, he'd listen to public radio stations. I can't say that I minded the classical or jazz stations - I've always been a music lover, whatever the style, and my favorite pieces for the piano were the classical ones...however, I felt it my fourteen year old duty to declare myself bored to tears by the rest of it.
Of course the older I got, the more I began to actually listen and enjoy what I was hearing. And now I am officially an addict of the beautiful NPR.
They have a little bit of everything - check out the website and I'm sure you'll find something in your line of interest.
But - here is my new source of bliss. When I'm busy with my hands or fed up with the circles my own mind spins, I can listen to incredibly talented actors read short stories to live audiences...they always pick wonderful stories, both classic and contemporary. I've never been one to listen to audio books (I'd rather have the book in my hands), but these are perfect for chores around the house. Instead of grumbling because I'd rather be reading or doing something beneficial for my brain than mopping the floor, I can happily bring out the mop. Now I can clean and 'read' at the same time.
It's a beautiful, beautiful thing. NPR and Swiffer are just making cleaning downright fun. (And so when an old friend asked me on the phone the other day if I'm being a good housewife [she's a rather compulsive cleaner who branded me as a hopeless closet slob during our dorm-room experience in college] I could smile and truthfully answer - why, yes, yes I am. I've become an absolute Donna Reed.)

For Your Fancy

In the course of researching my current work in progress, there are a few key areas that have captured my imagination.

My favorites, if I had to choose, would be the legends that revolve around a certain section of Chapel Hill. When I attended UNC, my dorm was on the very edge of North campus, across from a wonderful historical district (another side of the dorm had the marvelous Paul Green Theatre, site of my work-study job, and the other had the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery - a most fascinating stretch of history). Anyway, my dorm-mates and I would cross over to go walking/jogging/procrastinating in the historical district on this stretch of residential dream-fodder...stately old houses, friendly old trees, and amazing gardens...but all sort of naturally grown. There is none of the immaculate, matching, obviously methodically planned feel a lot of modern neighborhoods have.

One day we kept following the path at the end of Gimghoul Lane until it went uphill into the forest...which immediately makes you feel as if you've stepped far away from Chapel Hill, NC. Wikipedia says that Glandon Forest is a mystical place inhabited by knights and miscreants...there's an actual cliff - a plethora of trees and flowers - and a castle.

Obviously, this is something you don't stumble across every day of the week. My mind began spinning and I had to know - how does something like this castle fall in the midst of small-town North Carolina?

It so happens that this castle was built in 1924 (legend has the stone was put into place by French artisans) at the wish of the Order of the Gimghoul...a secret society founded in 1889 and made up of UNC's most prominent male students and faculty. The Order was founded on the principles of Arthurian chivalry and knighthood....and most importantly, on the tragic story of Peter Dromgoole.

There's a large, flat rock close to the castle - large enough to comfortable seat a few people - and it's covered with a red stain. I know it's there - I've seen it myself. Where did the stain come from?

It started with a young student from Virginia attending the university in 1833. His name was Peter Dromgoole and in the spring of his freshman year, he fell in love with a beautiful girl named Fanny. They'd meet on the wooded cliff near campus, sitting on 'their' rock and whispering all of those things people newly in love whisper...and everything was going just as planned until Peter noticed a friend of his looking a little too closely at his Fanny. Jealousy and indignation took Peter over as this friend began to make his feelings known...and a duel was planned.

They met at midnight on the cliff, their friends all there to bear witness - but things spun out of control and Peter was killed. They hastily moved his body from the rock where he lay bleeding and buried him in a shallow grave.

Fanny had no idea what had happened - daily she would return to 'their' rock, wondering where the red stain had come from - her heart breaking when Peter failed to meet her.

Legend says that the lovers haunt their rock and their forest...and I wonder if they ever run into the other famous ghost of UNC, an Irish writer named Jack who died in the 1930s of alcoholism and is said to roam down Gimghoul Lane and through the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery looking for company.

So a secret society was founded on the tragedy of young love...and the castle is a tangible memorial to that long ago sorrow...it's enough to keep my imagination spinning!

If you'd like to find out a little bit more for yourself (there are actual public records available on the Order of the Gimghoul, which reveals those first members), click!

Sometimes it's All I Can do to Not Fall Over

Neil took his four day motorcycle course this past weekend, which means that he's finally able to ride the bike that has been sitting in the garage for a few months now and that I am finally able to have the (predicted) cold sweats when he decides to zoom away with nothing around his body except air. It didn't help that when he bought the thing, pretty much everyone I told (including his own father) immediately said - he has life insurance, right? Yeah. Thanks for the reassurance.
So yesterday he decided that he wanted the boys and me to watch as he rode down the street and back...Christian is absolutely fascinated by anything that has wheels and moves, so he was ecstatic. However...Sean is a different sort of child - the kind that is leery of anything too loud or too fast. (In other words, he's just like me.)
We were all about 'hey, watch Daddy on the motorcycle!' and, once the engine was turned off, 'hey, watch Christian sit on the bike with Daddy!'
This is when Sean walked up to the motorcycle and said : "Hey, I've got a great idea! Watch me leave it alone!" And he walked back into the garage.
Three years old and a developed sense of sarcasm. My work here, good people of the blogosphere, is obviously done.

Yikes to the Millionth Power

I was all set to write a post today about this past weekend's yard sale and the trip to the new house I made afterwards (because I found honeysuckle growing all along the back border of our property and was whooshed away by the scent like I was Proust eating a madeleine), and I wanted to head over to the Tea And Madeleines site to put in a few thoughts as I've somehow emerged from the end of Swann's Way, but - BUT...

Our move date was just changed - from one and a half weeks away to tomorrow and Thursday.

My first reaction is to go hide with Proust and my laptop somewhere no one can find me.

It's going to be a whirlwind of a week, folks. Fortunately, Neil's boss is the person selling us the house, so he automatically has been given these two days off...but I'm not sure if he can move our gigantic furniture with only my help. We're going to need to enlist recruits.

I've cleaned out a lot of the clutter we're not taking with us (and we did sell the dining room table and chairs that we wanted to leave behind), but as for the rest of it? I've packed maybe six or seven boxes.

So, yeah. Yikes.

I guess I better head off to make sure we're going to have electricity in the new place and other such necessities...hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...

Spring Training - It's Not Just For Baseball

At the Relief Journal website, there has been an amazing forum created for writers. There are critique groups, blogging abilities, chat options....it's just getting started, but it already has a good dynamic. The forum runners are sponsoring a spring training for the Nanowrimo project, which takes place in November and challenges those participating to write 50, 000 words in one month. I've never participated in Nanowrimo, but I'm thinking that I'll be all done with the current wip and awaiting replies from agents by November, so a jump start on something new will be good. Anyway, the challenge over at Relief is to write 10, 000 words in seven days (the week of June 3rd). I'm going to participate because I feel like my wip will be done by that date and I'll need some major separation from it before going back to make it into a second (ie, better) draft. Plus, it'll be a fun goal to push towards - and knowing that there are others doing the same thing is good motivation. Writers don't often get to feel like they're a part of a team sport, and this gives a bit of that feeling.
For the first stage of this process, we were encouraged to get our writing gear together - our computer of choice, needed notebooks, pens, etc. I'm sharing here the list I put together...(it was a fun list to make, by the way. I definitely encourage all writers to examine their own routines every now and then just so they'll know what they need and have it handy. But, as so many of the great ones have said, don't use an obstructed routine as an excuse to not write. Even if it's with a napkin and a crayon at Ruby Tuesday's, sometimes you just have to do it. Just write. The list is just my own ideal conditions.)

Digital Capture -
I type all of my drafts on my trusty laptop, which has been with me for many moons. It's like a favorite pair of jeans - once you get it broken in, you hope that it lasts forever. I am, however, in the process of convincing my husband that I need one of those sweet Alphasmart devices for the ability to write anywhere and everywhere on a couple of AA batteries (it seems only fair, since he just bought a Playstation 3 :) ).

Software -
Word. Again, I like it because it's familiar. I do back things up with Google docs - even though those files can only hold so much text and I have to split larger projects, it feels safe to have an extra copy online. No matter what happens to the laptop, Google will still stand (I, um, hope.)

Analog capture -
Cheap notebooks with fun covers. I've never been able to freely write in expensive and elegant journals - I can't stop feeling that the better the covers, the more perfect (i.e., inhibited) my writing must be. I also go through a lot of notebooks, because all of my initial drafts are hand-written for the most part - I do my best rewriting as I type. Plus, it can be dangerous to tote a laptop around when there are toddlers catapulting through the air. I also have bound index cards, for random thoughts and scene ideas.

Magic Pen -
This depends on the project. I go through moods. I inserted all of my new scenes for the novel in fine-point magic marker. It just felt like it should be green. For the training session, I picked up a couple of simple ball point pens. Okay to lose, good ink flow if I manage to keep track of them. For the notebook and pens, I have a snazzy white leather purse. It's big enough for the notebook to perfectly fit into it and small enough to throw over my shoulder when I'm leaving the house.

Misc-
Other things I need to gear up for a good writing session :
At some point in the process, coffee is always a good bet. I think it's more about the routine than the actual coffee itself...there's something comforting about that hot mug in my hands while I'm staring at the screen. It says to my brain - 'Start.'

When my brain slows down and I need some inspiration, I turn to the shelf I've designated for my favorite books, both novels and writing guides. I've found that reading even one chapter of a fabulous novel or a book on craft will get the flame rekindled. (I adore Natalie Goldberg's books on writing for this purpose - even though I don't agree with all of her theology, she puts a fresh spin on aspects of the craft and does it in short chapters. Some of these actually have suggested exercises at the end, which can whip writer's block out of the way.)

And, of course, there's the handy-dandy iPod. I like to use this when my kids are watching a DVD, having one of those contests where they attempt to out scream one another, or Neil is playing aforementioned Playstation 3 at top volume. I generally prefer silence, but to combat noise pollution I have playlists waiting for action.


If you feel like making a list of your own and are willing to share (I like peeking into the writing routines of others - fresh ideas can always, always improve my own process!), let me know - I'll be more than glad to provide a link from here to there.

Happy Monday!

To Have and to Hold, To Let Go and Move On

How do we accumulate so much stuff? It astounds me - I've been storing things in a corner of the garage for this weekend's yard sale, taking things out of the house as I've cleaned and packed...the pile gradually grew, but it didn't seem overwhelming. Until yesterday, that is, when I actually began to spread it out and looked through all of the stuff already in the garage that I need to go through. And this is after the gigantic donation we made to the Salvation Army before Christmas.
I have to admit that this is mostly my fault. I'm a pack rat. Always have been, probably always will be (at heart, at least). This is partially an inherited thing, as my dad is the exact same way, but it might also be a result of lots of moving. Maybe clinging to my stuff was (is) a way to feel like the new place is really my home...I can take things with me, even if I can't take people or places or that swing on my Nanny's front porch...objects come to life for me because of what they represent. (Living hours away from any of my family probably doesn't help this attachment-condition I have.)
I laugh at myself because I get so emotionally attached to material things - the Book-It pins from an elementary school reading program, that pair of pajama bottoms my grandmother bought one summer, the quadrillions of Cabbage Patch dolls and stuffed animals I can't bear to part with (but that rabbit was an Easter gift! that teddy bear was from Christmas '99!)....and now it's not just my stuff. Now it's that lamp that was in Sean's room when he was a baby...that park guide from a trip with Neil...a Winnie-the-Pooh outfit that Christian looked so adorable in...ah. I know that these things are just things...and yet...I love going through a box and having each item bring up a dormant memory. I love that I still have notes from high school friends that we wrote to each other during classes and diaries dating back to second grade...
I guess the issue is that I cannot possibly keep every little memento from my life. I need to do the grown-up thing and prioritize. Sean and Christian's christening outfits? Okay to keep. A bottle of shampoo from the hotel we stayed at on our honeymoon? Not so much.
So here's a goal for this new move: lighten up!
And a goal for my life in general: remember that the people you love are close to you even if you don't see them every day or keep the candle from that birthday cake fourteen years ago....

This and That

I've been a bit m.i.a. over the past little while...somehow, I've gotten wrapped up in my work-from-home job, the world of my novel, and house de-cluttering. So by the time I've done all of that stuff and think to myself, hey - isn't it time for a little quality world wide web time?, it's actually b - e - d time.
But here I am, and while I'm here I'll share a few of this week's thoughts...

Gilmore Girls is officially in its last season...which means next week is the series finale. Sad. Sad. Sad. I've been watching this show since it first began, and I have the fondest memories of Tuesday nights - a night that takes a witty, lovable show as an excuse to build up routines...coffee and brownies with Carrie, dancing to the theme song with the boys, mid-episode and post-episode squealing with my mom/sisters/Betsy/Carrie...I don't know. It has just been an hour to relax, guilt-free, and let someone else do the entertaining. I'll miss it.

I'm on a roll with the novel. Really getting that draft fully worked out and typed up...but I. Hate. Writing. A. Synopsis. It's particularly driving me nuts because my novel unfolds through the alternating perspectives of four characters whose stories end up intertwining. Attempting to explain this in a catchy, well-written, one page query? It's making me throw things, people. It's making me dangerous.

So Christian's latest habit has become a dangerous one. We're mid-potty training, which is just one of my least favorite parenting activities. Once it's over, I'm sure it'll be the greatest thing that ever happened, but in the meantime...I spend way way way way way waaaay too much time in the bathroom. He has started to become really uncomfortable in his pull-up if he wets it just a teensy bit - which I know is a good thing, but the instant it happens he just rips it off. Which means at random times of the day, a naked two year old will run by me. He thinks it hilarious, of course, to conduct high speed naked chases through the house. My biggest problem with all of this is that when you have a spontaneously naked kid, there are inevitable naked sort of accidents. I'm sure you understand.

And Sean? He has recently discovered a liking for water guns. My husband has recently discovered a liking for filling those guns for water and laughing while our three year old stages sniper attacks (on me. of course.). Best moment of the month? Stealing one of the said water guns and squirting Neil right in the face. Hee!

The biggest news is this: the Lamberts are relocating. Yes, that's right. We have bought a new house and are moving...um, down the street. Literally. So a lot of the house de-clutter has been pre-packing prep. A yard sale looms in the near future. I'm extremely excited and thankful for this new blessing...I feel like we have plenty of room in this house to grow and spread out...so it's a happy happy God-thing. But, as moving always is, it's also a bit overwhelming and difficult to manage with Neil at work 12 hours a day and the boys eagerly unpacking whatever I pack ('cause that's a fun game, you know). But....new house. Yay!

That's going to be it for now, specifically because Christian just crawled into my lap and fell asleep, so I'm typing one-handed. Goodnight, moon!

Dropping the Blogging Ball

I've sort of lapsed in the update department...life in its general messiness has interfered with the usual schedule, but things should be getting back to normal around here soon. The rebound begins tomorrow...and hopefully, there will still be people around to witness it.