Working in a Romper Room

This summer has been quite an adventure. I am doing some freelance work, and my 6-year-old son is here with me every day. He is old enough to know when I say "I'm on the phone, I'm working," that it means to be as quiet as possible.

But he is 6.

I'm a different person now than I was when I had my first baby, but I generally have the same ideas about raising children. I want my children to be who they are meant to be, without me messing it up. (An impossible dream, I've come to realize.) I am more relaxed than I used to be, and I've learned a lot more about children than was available the first time around. I know that I make mistakes every day, but I try hard to be a good Mom.

We have a full set of drums, a piano, a guitar, Nerf guns, and a lot of toys around the house.
I've had Nerf bullets whiz past my head several times today while writing a story.
In years past, I would've been very upset by this. Now I just duck my head and keep typing, gently reminding him that I am working, and I can't work with incoming fire.

There have been times when I have been doing a telephone interview for a story, and Sean has started a drum riff. I put people on hold so I can say "cut," and have him go outside, and play drums later.

He routinely comes to me while I'm on the phone, and whispers his requests, trying to be quiet because Mom is working. "Mom," he whispers while I am writing furiously by hand to take notes on a notepad, and listen intently to the person on the other end of the phone, "I'm not trying to bother you, but I can't find my bullet. Did you see where it went? Can you help me find it?"

Or he will climb, literally, for all you people out there with no children, or those who have girls, he will CLIMB the cabinets to reach the top one where I keep the treats. "I'm getting a snack," he'll say as I'm trying to watch to be sure he doesn't fall, and also conduct an interview on the telephone.

How do I keep my sanity? How do I do this work without a stiff drink in my hand you ask?
Well, I'm not quite sure. I just know that someday he won't be coming to me to whisper in my ear, and he won't be climbing the cabinets. The days of Nerf bullets will be gone, and he won't really care if I listen to him play the drums.

He'll grow up, and this will all be what I miss most. I know that, and I feel blessed to work in this romper room.

Special Connections

People cross our paths every day, and we don't remember most of them. Some stand out for whatever reason - maybe because of a facial feature or something they are wearing.

Even the people we formally meet can fade into the past. I have had friends who are no longer a part of my life. They have just faded away. Some for good reasons, others, just because there was nothing left to talk about.

I have been so blessed to have some very special people come into my life, and stay.
One of those people is Jim Nave.

I call him Nave. (pronounced Navay because I cannot find the mark to go on top of the e.)
He was the first to come into my life and stay. The story of how we met and became friends is quite interesting. This is a very short version.

A friend (who has faded) invited me to a cast party at his home. Nave was there. I can't describe in this post how intense this meeting was. I remember he held my thumb, and it seemed like the rest of the room was fuzzy. There were people there, but he was the only person who was really in-focus. We talked, we went for a walk, and I remember sitting on a low brick or rock wall not far from my friend's house, talking.

Nave was living in another state, and we struck up a pen pal relationship. I visited him, and a relationship was born. Over the years (17, I think now - WOW) I have felt a special connection with him. For many years, whenever I was having a really hard time, a bad day, or just felt glum, I would find a letter from Nave in the mailbox. It always included some exotic post mark, and wonderful descriptions of where he was at that very moment.

Nave is a poet, and a performer, and teaches writing workshops all over the world. You can find out more about that here. He rubs elbows with some of the famous people, and it reminds me of how small the world really is when I read about his adventures. Here's this man who knows a lot of people with recognizable names, and he knows me too- this Southern Girl just trying to make it all count somehow in the Northwest.

And he has written a poem about me. View it here and click on poetry, it's the one called The Ghost of Sam Cooke.

"The Shack"

"The Shack" by William P. Young

Let me begin by saying this is not a book I would've noticed. I'm a reader, but these days, unless it is already on my bookshelf, it isn't likely to be in my hand.
I am bank-account-challenged right now, and a trip to the library means a trip to the children's section. By the time we're finished there, I'm ready to go.
So this book came to me through someone else, who insisted that I MUST read it.

I wish I had written it.

"The Shack" is about God and His relationship with us.
Mack is struggling with his relationship with God because his little girl was kidnapped and killed by a serial killer. That is revealed early in the book, so I'm not giving anything away here.

If you don't believe in God, read it anyway.
This book made me laugh, it made me cry, and it helped me know that there are other people, or at least one, who think of God the way I do.
If you are struggling in your faith, or you just don't quite know what this world is all about, read this book. If you are having trouble forgiving someone, this book can lead the way.

Whether you agree with it or not, I believe the basic message of "The Shack" will touch you in places so deep you will be forced to look at things in a different way.
It challenged some of my ideas about how the world works, and how it should work. I am a person who can almost always see the other person's view and understand why they think the way they do - that doesn't mean I agree with them.

But this book nudged me, it whispered that I should look deeper, to try to see "bad" people in a different way.

If this book challenges your ideas, please, keep reading.
If it disturbs you, please, keep reading.
When you're finished, leave me a comment here. I'd love to hear what you think.
Visit theshackbook.com to get more info.

A Boy's Life

This is the best picture I could get of all four boys playing at the park. None of them like cameras. This was taken at Sean's birthday party.

Happy Birthday to Sean

Today is Sean's 6th birthday. We celebrated his birthday on Friday afternoon with a party at the park. He had a few friends there, and some family. It has gotten more difficult to get a good picture of him, because he doesn't like pictures. He says he is "camera shy."

I made his cake, and got a Spider Man decoration from our local grocery store bakery. Sean helped put the icing on, in case you thought I had been hitting the rum.
He had a Spider Man party, complete with Spider Man masks for all the kids.

I had looked for ideas online, and the parties I liked were very involved and would've required not only more money than I had, but time as well. The park was great. We reserved a spot ahead of time, and the day was perfect for it. The kids ran and had a great time, and there is a playground there as well.

Sean was 9 weeks early, and spent 3 1/2 weeks in the NICU. He has consistently been about 2 months behind his peers, so I've never gotten really focused on all those milestone things. I remember how scared I was when he was born, and I thank God every day that I have a happy, healthy boy!

Click Here to Leave Comments

I am a writer. I've been a journalist for a long time, and when I first started out in this business - well, let's just say it is different now.

I am in the midst of a very serious story, and it involves a fatality. Someone from the area where I live was killed in another state, so some information was available from the newspaper in that state.

When I got online to view that news story, I scrolled through to read the comments posted by readers. It used to be that a reader who wanted to comment on a topic, or a story, had to write a letter to the editor. At the newspapers I have worked, that letter also had to include a valid telephone number, and the full name of the person writing the letter. If either of those things were missing, or turned out to be bogus, the letter didn't run in the paper.

As I read what turned out to be a brief (very short story) about this incident, and then read the comments people had left below it, I literally felt sick. The story was about a tragic fatality, and the comments ranged from blaming the deceased, to rants on politics and taxes in the local community - and even degenerated into scathing remarks that went on and on between the people leaving comments.

I believe that newspapers have to change in order to retain and add readers, but I'm not so sure that people should be allowed to just click and spew. I think I liked it better when it took a little more effort to make a comment, and the comment had a full name attached to it.

Blast From My Past

Do you remember Pop Rocks? I didn't even know this candy was still around. We found some the other day, and now Sean is all about Pop Rocks. I had forgotten how messy it is. It's difficult to eat, and the tiny rocks drop onto the floor and make sticky spots. But what fun! We've been listening to each other "pop" and we've both had some pretty powerful rocks that leave a sting on the tongue.
We had three flavors - strawberry, watermelon, and tropical punch.

Happy Birthday to Karen

Today is Karen's Birthday. Karen and I met in college, and have been friends for a very long time. We have shared some of life's most hilarious moments, and some of the really rotten moments too.
We've both had some bad birthday stories to tell, and I am hoping that this year she will have a great birthday story for me.
It has been a really long time since we've been around for each other's birthdays. I wish I could be there Karen! Have a Happy Birthday!!!

When God Knocks, Will You Answer

Radical hospitality.
Hospitality is something that just comes naturally to Southerners. If you want some lessons on hospitality, go to the South and knock on someone's door. See what happens. Likely, you'll stay for at least half the day, have at least one meal, and be urged to stay longer. Every time you get ready to leave, you'll hear, "What's yer hurry? Why, just stay with us."
You can spend more than an hour just trying to leave. Just when you think you're on your way, they will start to tell you a story about one of their kin, or a neighbor's troubles. Chances are, you'll have your arms full of leftovers too.
So our church has a vision, and it includes Radical Hospitality as a sign of a healthy Christian church. Some of the people in our church have made a decision to stop talking about Christian discipleship and do something. After some discussion, and formal meetings with people who can make things happen, our church has received a request from United Methodist Core of Overseas Relief and Church World Service to help an Iraqi refugee family settle here. They will be arriving in Washington soon. They have been living as refugees in Jordan, and have had surgeries to remove broken glass from their bodies.
I am praying that we will all show them a Southern style of hospitality, and make them feel so welcome and accepted that they see the reflection of God in us all.
Now, sing along with me -What the world needs now, is love, sweet love, no not just for some, but for everyone.

Boys of Summer

It was so hot yesterday, I turned on the sprinkler and my least 'un and his friend across the street had some fun cooling off.
There are few things in the world that get me more fired up than seeing a person, or group of people being oppressed or mistreated. I've had a hard time with the Olympic games since it was announced that the games were being held in China. I have nothing against anyone who is from China, but I have strong opinions about China's government. I also have strong opinions about our own, and the fact we import so many things from China that have been dangerous for the people of the United States.
I'm working on a story about a program that gets Bibles into China. If you are a Christian, or of any other religious belief, and you live in a country where you can freely practice your religion, please take a moment to offer up a prayer of thanksgiving.
As I get more confirmed information, I will be sharing it here.
Here's a quote from Sojourners.com
"In the Olympic Village, you can find religious freedom. Maybe some foreigners can worship. ... But I tell you, the real crisis in China now is that there are no reformers left. The power struggle among the leadership is for power, not reform. To have real political reform, they would lose their power.
- Fan Yafeng, a law professor at the Institute of Law at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences and a leader of an unregistered house church. (Source: The Washington Post)

Hot, hot, hot

It was already warm at 8 a.m. I know to the rest of the country this is no big deal, but the temperature is supposed to be at least 88 degrees today, and possibly higher. They (weather people) expect the current records to be broken today.
My Dahlias are drooping.
I got out early and mowed the dandelions in the front yard. The grass is mostly dead.
When I was finished, I had a large glass of sweet iced tea. Ohhh, there's nothing like it.
We have an electric mower, and though the long electrical cord does get in the way sometimes, I prefer electric.
I don't have to do much to take care of it, and I don't have to buy gas to mow my yard.
Oh, and our gas has dipped just below $4 now. Some places as low as $3.95!! Oooh, somebody has to be loosing some money on that deal, eh?

When Do We Become Wise?

"I guess when you're a baby you can hear God, but then when you know everything, you can't hear Him anymore."
This little gem of a thought came from my almost 6-year-old little boy. He blurts out these things in quiet moments. It's amazing what goes through a child's mind. I love hearing his perspective on the world.
He also told me, "When you try so hard, that's when you get into trouble."
Wow.
He told me a few years ago that he was in Heaven with God first, then he was born here. He still talks about when he was in Heaven.
My mother passed away in December. He loves to talk about her, and one day I said something reminded me of her, and it made me a little sad.
"Why?" he asked. "Mom, she's fine."
He has a friend across the street who is mean sometimes. One day he was telling me about some of the mean things the friend had done and said to him. I listened as he told me all of those things. I made some comment like, "Wow, that doesn't sound very nice."
"I just have to remember that God loves me," he said, "and He loves him too."

drip drop

We live in a part of the United States that gets quite a bit of rain. We're not too far from Seattle. Believe it or not, there has been such a dry spell that we've had a burn ban, but today it rained. Hard.
My friend Karen has been prodding me to start a blog. I'm doing this one as an experiment. I'm sort of a private person, so I wasn't sure what I would write, or if I would even want to post pictures.
Another friend of mine tried to start a blog and ran into trouble, so I'm trying it out to see if the same thing happens to me.
I'm going to ramble about some things.
We like a brand of fruit preserves - Danish Orchards. I've bought it for years. Then one day I was in Costco and saw a good deal on some jelly. You know how that goes. That stuff lasted for months and months.
For those of you who are actually reading this and don't know, Danish Orchards came in a little blue tub with a white handle. Part of its charm was that you were getting a tiny little bucket. Once we had eaten all of the preserves, I washed the tub out and we used those cute little tubs for all sorts of projects. Namely fruit picking. We have picked huckleberries, cherries, and raspberries with those, and they are just the right size.
So we finally ran out of the jelly I bought at Costco, and I decided to buy Danish Orchards again.
They changed the tub! There is no cute little handle anymore. Oh, they put a really pretty picture of fruits on the lid, but there is no handle.
I've noticed I can't tolerate potato chips like I used to. They're too salty.
We haven't had much summer weather, and I don't want to think about the clouds drifting in again. I have done well here, until this winter. It seemed it would never end.
Gas is still over $4 a gallon here, though it has dropped by a few cents in the past couple of weeks.
Did you know certain gas stations put a hold on your account when you purchase gas with a debit card. I assume it is the same with a credit card. I think this should be illegal. They not only put a hold on what you actually purchase, they add more on. I know Costco holds $100, and 76 holds $75. You could easily have an overdraft on your bank account because they are holding your money.
"Nobody suffers like the poor baby."
That's a line from a movie. I tend to do that a lot, when it fits.
Time to see if this works.