They might be worth something someday.
Archives for February 2011
They’ll train us!!!??? This awesome sign appeared yesterday at a major intersection just outside of town. I saw the guy placing it there. I’d say mid-twenties, shortish, dark hair, possibly hispanic. I wasn’t paying too much attention to him. Then today when we drove by and actually read the sign, I wished I had.
Why do they want mixed martial arts fighters? What kind of training do they provide? How big of a piece of their action would I get if I signed up? I am over 21 and I do have a yellow belt in Kenpo Karate. I think I will call and see what their deal is, in honor of POTUS Day tomorrow.
When you’re writing a novel, there’s a blurry line between fiction and reality. I infuse my story with aspects of places and characters I have known. My heroine has characteristics I possess or wish I possessed.
Some of my best plotting comes while I work out. I have a playlist of songs on my Zune I’ve chosen to help get me in the right mood to write and I listen to it and get pumped up, brainstorming ideas and visualizing scenes I plan to incorporate in later chapters.
This week I was out walking with Wanda in the stroller when I noticed a man walking ahead of me wearing a backpack. He seemed out of place in our neighborhood and I felt a strange vibe coming from him. He was going the way we were going but he was walking slightly slower than me. He kept stealing glances behind him, keeping me on his radar. He was slowing down and I was gaining on him. Was he letting me gain on him?
In a psychotic fit of imagination, I thought, “If he tries to pull anything funny when I pass him, he will be so surprised by the beat-down I will give him.” In my mind, I planned out the fight scene and just how thoroughly I would shut him down.
I continued on my way, getting closer, still feeling a strange vibe that something was going to go down when I caught up to him, still imagining how I would triumph.
About 30 feet from him, I had the sudden realization that I was not a character in my book, that I was a very real 32-year-old woman with a baby in a stroller and almost zero martial arts training. This realization was disappointing. I turned down a side street to avoid the confrontation.
Yeah. Maybe plotting should only be done when walking in a controlled environment.
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All day long on Valentine’s Day, I was listening to romantical music to put me in the mood for love. I pulled out the eighties power ballads, the Whitney, the Celine. I got in deep.
And in his deepest of mini-manly hearts, Magoo was NOT impressed. He was begging, BEGGING, for his favorite songs but I told him we could only listen to songs about love. At one point, he said, “Please can we listen to Ghostbusters? It’s about love. If you save people from bad ghosts, that’s love.”
He has a point. I think it’s okay to stretch the meaning of Valentine’s Day just a bit.
For Dan’s present, I got him the movie RED because red is one of the official colors of love and also there’s nothing quite as romantic as automatic weapons.
Dan got me some lovely flowers and serenaded me with My One and Only Love played on his saxophone. Ahhhh. That is romance. Then to finish off our evening, we tried to get our rabbit ears to pick up ABC so we could watch Castle, gave up and worked on our laptops side by side.
The kids even slept at some point last night, despite the fact that their veins ran thick with high fructose corn syrup and their teeth were died green from Fun Dip. In all honesty, that was a bit disappointing. It should have been pink.
I’ve been home with my kids from the time Laylee was born eight years ago. For the most part I’ve loved it. As with any occupation, it has its rough moments, but overall I couldn’t have asked for a better gig.
The thing about mothering is, it’s more of a calling than a job so being free to pursue it full time is kind of a joyful thing, even at the worst of times. Loving and nurturing another person is a pretty sweet way to spend your days, even if the person is sticky and periodically obnoxious. I’m sticky and obnoxious sometimes too.
But the Thompsons are slowing down (or stopping) in our child production and the kids are getting older. I’ve been taking on more writing work, most notably my new job writing the Mom Congress education blog over at Parenting.com. My novel’s actually still coming along too. I can’t wait for you to read it.
Today I was typing a post about technology in the classroom while sitting on my front porch while Wanda napped and Magoo rode his bike up and down our long driveway. I would periodically pause to chat with him about form or speed or his need for goggles or a light for when he’s riding on the street at night, which is SOOOOOO likely to happen in this lifetime. Then I’d go back to writing.
Sometimes I write with Wanda on my lap, inserting creative punctuation and closing windows while I’m reading them. I stop to drive a carpool, change laundry loads, pick up from the bus or snuggle on the couch and read a board book over and over and over again.
Right now I have so much to learn about education that I’m spending hours every day just reading articles. Hopefully when I’m a little more experienced, I’ll be able to cut that down.
Probably the hardest part about working from home is knowing when to cut myself off and just be at home. Since home and work are the same place, the line is blurry. There are times when I’m working on the novel and Dan goes to bed without me or I’m reading a particularly dense article and I snap when the kids need my help with something.
I’ll figure it out. Even with things as they are, I’m feeling pretty blessed. I’m doing what I love while being with the people I love and I’m getting paid to do some of it. This is a good situation.
Are any of you working from home? Tell me about it.
My parents and sister came to visit us for Christmas and it was so fun to have them here. It’s the first time we’ve ever had family up for the holiday and we wanted to make it special so we each chose a gift for each of our visitors. This year for the first time I asked the kids to use their own allowance money to pay for half of the gifts. It made the gifts more meaningful and it caused them to think more seriously about what to give.
Both kids got Auntie Meg jewelry because she is fashionable like that. Magoo got Papa a laser pointer and Grammy some chapstick.
After hours of looking, Laylee was browsing the little red boxed gift items on the end cap at Target when she came upon the Perfect Present for Grammy. She held the box up triumphantly.
Me: It’s a mini megaphone.
Laylee [grinning and nodding]: WITH siren!
I had to let her buy it, because who won’t remember the year that Grammy received a mini megaphone WITH siren for Christmas?
The gift was especially poignant considering Grammy suffered from migraines off and on for the first few days they were at our house. Yes, a siren will come in very handy for Grammy.
I love the part a few seconds in when she points to herself in the mirror and then points to Magoo as if to say, “Did you see that? Did you see that? I did that. That was me!”
The women’s restrooms at the Columbia Tower Club in Seattle are pretty wild, each stall containing a large window that looks down on the city below. I guess this has caused problems with the male visitors. Now I want to know what their restrooms look like. Do they even have restrooms? Maybe what the management mistook for curiosity or interest was just the look of a man truly desperate to use the facilities.