Charger Mom

Rocking Realm of Power

2012-01-11T04:05:00.000-08:00

I was given a rocking chair for mother's day a few years ago. My daughter thought it would be an appropriate gift, and it was definitely something I wanted. I have always loved the rocking chairs out in front of Cracker Barrel. So, I have one.

A few days back, I was asked if I was a Rocking Chair Grandma. All three of my grandchildren currently live with me and we have a mass of toys blocking every pathway through our home, every tabletop is covered by coloring books, crayons and entertainment for little ones, including quite often my desk. So, I considered the question quite thoroughly.

In the process of making a few life changes over the past year, I've let my hair grow out to my natural color, or current lack thereof. Gray appears washed out and colorless, but it is the color God invented for my hair. I'm not a fan. As hard as I've tried to get used to the color, I can't. I struggle with it daily. Every time I pass a mirror, I see the gray and feel old. I'm not. I'm a vibrant young woman with much life to live and gray isn't my color. In fact, as I write this, I've decided that I will be buying hair color on my next visit to the store. I'm tired of feeling old when I see myself in the mirror.

But the question, am I a Rocking Chair Grandma, still exists... The answer, yes. I live in a rocking realm of power. That power that comes to women of age who know that nothing that happens to them is too big for God to overcome. My hope is eternal and not of this world, therefore I have power to change my world. ;)

Being a Grandma rocks!

Spunky, Charger, and Mom

2011-12-15T12:20:00.000-08:00

Nicknames can be fun. When Oris George started calling me Charger a few years back, I admired the concept and loved hearing the name. It fit. A single parent for more than twelve years, I've been dedicated to my children and determined to raise them well. I have great children, who have become great adults. Three of the four have crossed that plateau, one still clinging to mom's apron strings (he doesn't realize yet, that I've cut him loose), and one still in high school, hanging onto every minute of youth.

Spunky came as a surprise a few weeks back, from a friend here in Denver. She answered the phone, "Hey Spunky, what's up?" She couldn't possibly know how much that new nickname meant, or that it's kept me reaching for the next step on the ladder to success for the past three months. I've struggled to keep up, and life seems to be getting in my way recently. But, having someone give me a nickname that reminded me that I'm spunky, gregarious and motivated helps to keep me in that "charger" mode.

Motivation sometimes comes from knowing that my Hope never fails. I love the positive power of faith in my life and knowing that I can achieve all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Charge!

Wrap Up on Aisle 9

2011-11-28T12:23:00.000-08:00

We've all been there, standing in the middle of the aisle needing to find that perfect gift and realizing that we're just too tired to keep shopping. My youngest daughter has always been totally impossible to buy for, especially Christmas or birthdays when you might want to surprise her. She hates surprises and she's picky (don't tell her I said that).

She has a specific kind of pants she wears (they have to fit exactly perfect). She wears a particular kind of sweaters. Her jackets and shoes have to fit perfectly too, and the only dress I've got her in the past ten years, she'd selected and still hasn't worn. So, there I stood looking up and down the aisle wanting to get her something special, but absolutely nothing stood out as something she'd wear or use. I knew anything I purchased would be returned to the store and I realized I wasn't willing to buy it, if it was only going back.

I looked both ways down the aisle again and turned my cart back toward the front of the store. That was my last gift, and I wasn't buying anything. I stacked my purchases on the revolving belt and paid for them at the cash register. Again this Christmas, there would be nothing under the tree for my Ms Priss. By the time I got to the car, tears of frustration were streaming and I knew 'nothing' wasn't going to work for me. She didn't care if I bought her a gift card, but I cared. I wanted her to have a new sweater or something for Christmas - UNDER the tree. It was important to me, if nobody else.

I locked the purchases in the car and went back inside.

Determination had filled me to the brim and I was set on finding a gift for my daughter. I pushed the cart up and down several aisles in the store before I saw it. On a shelf near eye level, inside a snow globe were two angels, one bigger angel and one very small angel, appearing to be mother and daughter. On the front of the globe was a small brass plate that said, "I see me in you!"

As I pushed the cart with my new, boxed purchase toward the cash register, my second time through, I saw a beautiful dark red sweater. Just the right size, cut with a deep v-neck, the sweater would follow my daughter's curves and still fit well. I put the sweater in the cart and added a pretty necklace from the table near the front of the store. Three gifts that I could see her loving on Christmas morning, and I paid for them as I left the store through Aisle 9.

Tebow - The Slice for Today!

2011-11-27T17:44:00.000-08:00

In case anyone wonders about Charger-Mom, I'm Charger "the Mom" not the mom of a Charger. But that question isn't likely to come up on a day when the Chargers fall to their demise at the hands of Bronco's best, Tebow.

Tebowing is a family event these days, as we take our bow before the Lord a humble and prayerful moment of Thanksgiving, revealing our favorite pose. Tebow rocks! I'm grateful to the man who made bowing in Praise of our Lord once again an acceptable behavior in the realms of football fans, the world over. Even in these days of religious turmoil, the "Tebow" act can be recognized the world over, as people take the pose.

Today, just for the sake of recognition... The Broncos BEAT the Chargers in a massive GAME Day win of 16 points over 13. And the world took the Tebow. Amen

A Grateful Heart

2011-05-06T09:19:00.000-07:00

In the gulf stream of tears that flowed through my life this week, I found sustenance and peace. There are times when I know the flowing of tears is simply a river I must wade through to get to the greener pastures, sunrises and sunsets that fill my mountain view with color. The valleys can be forged, the rivers can be bridged, and the mountains can be climbed, but I cannot accomplish all at the same time. I have to live in the valley occasionally and maintain my view of the mountain.

Such is the reason, the purpose and the balance of living in a world created out of abundance for gratitude. My life is filled up with an abundance of blessings, I must remember to be grateful for all that I've been given.

The Red Dress

2011-04-16T21:38:00.000-07:00

In the nightly scheme of survival, my daughter arrives home from work and reads Tricia Williford's blog. This isn't a bad thing, Tricia is a fellow writer and her blog posts are more often than not relevant to our lives. Tricia's husband Robb passed away in her arms on December 23, 2010. She's feeling the ultimate form of abandonment, not that he abandoned her, as that implies he left her of his own will. He did not. He was taken from her, by death; stolen right out of her arms in the bedroom they shared.

Her posts are relevant in our lives because both my daughter and I are divorced, abandoned to be single mothers. Whether that was our wish or not, our goal in life or not, never mattered, the other half of our respective marriages, left. The abandonment in our lives is so complete and yet... so unending. Each moment we're alive, we know that we weren't loved "enough."

That feeling of lacking love, lacking sustenance and understanding, of missing that which we were promised comes full circle as she reads Tricia's blog each night. Occasionally, Tricia's posts cross that line of definition between widowed and divorce to touch the defiance that a woman feels when she's left without a mate.

Such is the case with her post about a red dress.

No only does she share her heart and the feelings she felt when Robb took her out on special dates and she prepared to meet him as his loving and graceful wife, who dolled herself up to look attractive to him, but she shares the part of her that says, "I need to feel loved, appreciated and cared for by one man." Every woman desires that feeling.

I remember talking to my mother a short while after Dad left as she worked around the yard wearing an old tattered and worn out t-shirt and jeans. She didn't care that she wasn't dressed attractively. It mattered not one whit to her... because nobody appreciated her dressing up anymore. I remembered that feeling and my heart ached for her. Still today, I remember that feeling. I felt it as I read Tricia's post tonight about her desire to wear the red dress.

I too, desire to wear the red dress. But more than wearing the red dress... I want that feeling of love and appreciation that goes with wearing the red dress.

I often dress up, fix my hair and doll up in my pretty clothes, but as a single woman with teenaged children, twenty something daughters and grandchildren, I'm far more likely to hear, "Why are you trying to dress up today?" than I am to hear how pretty I am. Even on the professional front, as I dress for work... there's no one who offers up the compliments, the admiration, and the appreciation for the time I took "extra" to get all dolled up and looking pretty. And it wouldn't really matter if they did, because at the end of the day... nobody loves me enough to be there - every night.

Sad, but true.

I want to be heard...

2011-02-09T22:10:00.000-08:00

There are those moments when life just rolls around you like water in the ocean. You know you're there, but the water surrounds you in such a volatile way that you wonder if the ocean knows you're there.

Life sometimes surrounds me in the same way.

While I'm challenged by the world around me, forced to participate in the lives of the many, I wonder if anyone truly participates in my life. Am I heard? Do people notice that I'm here? Or... Do I simply blend into the woodwork, the wallpaper and the furniture?

As a writer, I view what I have to say as important, valuable and constructive. There's seldom a period of time that I'm not writing down words about something of some importance, at least to me. But, is any of it of importance to anyone else?

This isn't depression, it's simply a wondering about what truly matters. I've spent a lot of time helping others, giving to others, and making an effort to help others, both in writing, in person, and in gifts of money, time or other ways of helping... But, is it noticed?

Each year near Christmas I watch the movie, It's a Wonderful Life. Love that movie. It's amazing! It shows one man that he makes an incredible difference in the world around him and that he has changed the lives of many in his community.

Have I?

Have I made a difference in the world in which I live? Is there anyone out there who is better off because I'm here, because I've impacted their lives in some way? I've never saved anyone from drowning that I'm aware of... or from feeding a neighbor poison... or from a life of boredom as the town librarian? But... I hope I've made a difference.

I hope my life has stood for something, that I've made a difference, and that along through the years, I've impacted the lives of those around me in some positive manner.... And it would be nice to know that...

The Dating Game - Prolific Profiles

2010-11-17T07:56:00.000-08:00

How do you write prolific profiles for the dating sites? The beginning of the process always starts out so simple, you just reveal a little bit about yourself and then leave it alone for a few days and see what's coming back your way. If you're lucky, you hit on something good the first time, and the first responses are viable. Then again, most often, the first responses are something you'd rather NOT see, and you're picking and choosing through the rubble of information, attempting to fine tune what you wrote to collect a better qualifying person.

Those first postings can often be too passive to grab the attention of the man you really want to attract. But, how do you fine tune who you are?

I'm a strong proponent of being yourself in the presentation. Don't embellish the truth, it's like posting an enhanced photo. Don't do it. Post the real you, and be yourself in all postings. You want someone who will love you where you are, acknowledging that you're a changing being, always evolving to meet the needs of life and family, but still YOU under all the change.

More often than not, there's no way for a possible "friend" to contact you, unless your "friend" picks up on the little hints you leave in your profile. If you're recognizable on the Internet, through google or some other search technique, he may be able to locate you through a profile "brand" or some word combination you leave as a hint, telling him about yourself. Using a personal brand to identify yourself may get you banned from the dating sites, if they catch you at it. Or, it may result in you actually being contacted by your "true love" if he's smart enough to find it.

Are you really interested in finding the right guy to date? When I started looking, the wrong guys kept finding me. They were awful. Always guys I'd never even meet in real life. Then I started meeting a few nicer guys, some who had something in common with me, and a few who actually had the same "likes and dislikes" I did with their own personality and interests. Those guys fascinated me. For a while I was pleasantly surprised by the "anticipation" of having someone new "like" me on the site. Then I realized few of them are members, and none of them are responding in any meaningful way.

This has to go a different direction or I'll never actually meet one of them. So, I changed my profile to include a few phrases where they might find me, if they really looked. Including a few hints as to where they might look. Book reviews, if you post reviews on Amazon, would give your "dating options" a good place to search out your profile and interests. You'd only have to write a book review about the book you say you're reading on the site. Then say you post reviews in your profile. Just don't say where... Most men can find a review on Amazon, or through Google Search Bars.

It's 2010 and the majority of men are computer literate enough to locate essential data via search engine.

My latest review on Life Expectancy by Dean Koontz are up on ACE Writers.

Wanna chat? Email me at jan@janverhoeff

If that's the best there is...

2010-11-09T21:44:00.000-08:00

Recently, my daughter talked me in to posting a singles ad, because she has had excellent responses to her own ad. I giggled with her as I posted an ad, depicting not only my best qualities, but the real qualities that make me human. We not only had fun posting the ad, but also enjoyed the first few responses.

There was a wanna be immigrant, asking me to bring him to the USA and marry him. So NOT going to happen! Then there was another person from some far away land where English is not his first language, attempting to convince me he was an American working abroad. NOT. Another contact share his desire for an "older more experienced woman" and I noticed he quoted his age as 26. Ahem, my daughter isn't much younger than he is, and I'd never date anyone that young. And then a serious "suitor" happened past, and contacted me.

He drawled on the phone for two hours about how he hails from northern Texas and has a great job working for the state of Texas. I listened intently, way past the point where I realized I wasn't interested, just trying to be polite. When he started regaling me with his life history for the third time, I begged off, explaining that I had another call to make before it was too late. By that time, I'd already shared with him that I was searching for a more traditional relationship.

The next contestant, proclaimed himself to be a wealthy world traveler with multiple continental experiences. His phone conversation lasted all of five minutes. I decided I'd had enough of his boasting and simply hung up the phone. Polite responses had been rejected, so I figured he needed to hear the buzz of a dead line to stop his boasting.

Then the best of all, a cable television installer responded, explaining that he'd been sober for almost three months now and was looking for a good woman who wouldn't drive him back to drinking. (He laughed) I wasn't laughing. I excused myself from the call and got off the phone.

I went back to the site to remove my "ad" and shared with my daughter that if those were the best specimen the world offered, I'd remain single for the balance of my life. The worst part of the whole experience is that I know others who have had excellent responses from the same site. So, I have to take a serious look at what I was looking for and why those losers singled me out... Was it really the lack of good women in my age bracket?

Just wondering, because I know a lot of eligible women who would not be interested in any of those men.

Thanks, but... no thanks!

Expert Status - Gleaming Trophies Await my Stardom

2010-10-13T22:51:00.000-07:00

Sean Mize is a friend among many. I've never met the man in person, but I admire him greatly. His climb to the top of the food chain implicates a strength I don't know that he has, and an expertise that I'm fully aware exists. When I asked him for assistance a few days back, on a whim, he responded with gentle reassurance. I know his knowledge is keen on target, and that he's accomplished something I dream one day of accomplishing as well.

Now, may not be that time.

Although I read his book and I'm applying the principles, I know there's a factor that isn't in my court. The desire to succeed is there, but for a reason I'm not certain the world understands. It's more than just success in the moment. For me, at this venture of my life, success that is sustainable and permanent is a requirement. It's a must have. I need the ability to survive no matter what the future holds, because my food chain is diminishing.

Early in life, I was taught the importance of family and friends. They've always been my stronghold, I knew they'd always be available to me, because I was a little squirt, cute as a button and everyone loved me. Then I began the process of growing up. There were relatives in my life who didn't give a horses petute about my life or what happened to me. They had their own worries to contend with, and theirs were always greater than mine. Friends slowly disappeared from view, as they grew older and left us alone without the needed hands to hold, hearts to cling to and shoulders to cry on.

Slowly, one by one the trophies of my life began to fade away. I wondered if I'd succeed at anything. Eventually, I realized that success didn't matter. I hadn't been born for success and stardom, at least not the kind that human minds conformed. I was destined to greater accommodations, my thrills would mold mountains, change worlds and calm seas. How did I know that the human bounds that surrounded my dreams as a child would not confine me as an adult?

the answer was easy...

I knew because I was a child of the King. He gave me greatness, bred it into every nodule of my DNA and carried it throughout his life to keep me safe and secure in the world where I was meant to grow, bear fruit and multiply as the Bible told me to do. I struggled, because I didn't know if I was doing the right thing or if I was going to be okay, through the struggles. But there on the cross, he hung for me, he got down off that tree and arose again, for me.

When I realized that my Savior had suffered the ultimate cost that I might have life everlasting and more abundant than any life I'd ever known, I knew. I knew that I was an expert, born to greatness. My life was a gleaming trophy of stardom awaiting the lights of recognition. In order to collect all that was mine, I merely needed to ask and the Lord would grant it unto me. I needed to seek that which I asked, expecting to find. And more than anything, once he provided for me, I needed to accept it with an open and grateful heart. My trophies are laid up...

Sean Mize is right, I am an expert. I've earned the trophies of greatness and my skills and talents are unnumbered. Thank you Sean, for pointing that out to me this week.

Charger Mom - Football Season

2010-10-03T07:33:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again and football season is in full on attack, one kid is fighting a cold, two more are fighting for the privilege of attending the game and another one just wants to be held. Great Gramma is begging for attention while my daughter and I chase around, wishing we had time to give attention to anything other than everyone else. Life at our house continues, rampant with dogged remarks, rushed moments and harried phrases that need finishing.

Did you ever feel like you were on a treadmill going just a half a mile faster than you could run?

When I realized a few weeks back that I'd be taking care of my mom for a while, I thought it might be nice to incorporate a few special "moments" in that care taking time. It may have been possible for the first few days, but shortly after, those moments became a random thought exclusive of ignorance. As we rushed from Doctor place to Doctor place, I realized the likeness of "special" was missing.

So... lacking the ability to forget about my desire to make this time special, I stopped by my Dad's place and invited him and my nephew and his family to dinner. The world stopped turning for an hours worth of minutes as we attempted to eat at a family favorite diner. My mother's favorite place to go for food, costs an arm, two legs, a kidney and half a lung for a meal, when she eats less than two ounces and can't keep any of it down. But, paying it becomes a privilege, when I realize any monumental bite she takes may be her last.

A trivial moment in time for the average person, but this moment in time is precious, as my mother struggles to eat just one more bite of food. Then it occurred to me, during that meal. No matter how trivial, each moment we spend with mom... now, is special, because it may be the last one we have the privilege of spending with her.

Football season came in with such a rush of "to-dos" that I barely recognized the colors changing on the trees. The season was headlong into full force before I realized that if I leave the windows open, I can hear the boys practicing football on the field just south of the house. I've always loved listening to their "heave" and "lunges" as they cheer the boys of fall in their favorite sport. Football.

Am I a charger-mom? No, I'm not the mother of a prized football player, my boys chose not to play the autumn sport, but rather instead to run the courses in other sports. I am however a mom who charges in where angels fear to tread when the need arises, toting another barge, carrying my light high to light the world, and daring on the last moment to make a difference in the lives of teenagers, young adults and children everywhere. A life well lived is one that moves through each day, dedicated to the decision to live well, under any circumstances and find the happiness that comes with each moment, no matter how difficult the moment maybe.

I'm the mom in the checkout line spending my last dollar on toilet paper, smiling. Because I know that God is aware that's my last dollar, and he'll send me another when I need it. ;)

Daring Karma Follows

2010-08-20T01:32:00.000-07:00

On those days when you look around and see chaos in your wake, step back and reflect on the recent past. Have you missed a step?

Today started out much like any other day - a bit disorganized (we're moving), but otherwise well planned and intact. Then the chaos started. Not just a little chaos, but mass chaos with crazy events connecting dots I didn't know existed. Life took turns onto roads that hadn't even been there earlier and I was forced to sit on the side lines and watch as life fell apart before my eyes.

After much wonder, I prayed for rain.

Rain is my "solution". When life is going awry, I ask for rain. It washes away the "karma" and allows peace to fill me up again. The clouds were gathering on the horizon but only a few sprinkles fell. Eventually, a downpour came, washing away the chaos and allowing in the blessings.

By the time we got home the chaos had disappeared and peace filled its place. Life was sane again for a moment. The world took on a soft glow with sparks of lightning and rolls of thunder. I looked around at the love surrounding me and realized that the chaos had been simply a distraction. Life, the one that I'd stepped out of, continued on in step with time, and in God's protection.

My prayer of gratitude was delayed... But now I pray in gratitude for all things wonderful and plenty in my life. May God bless your days, and nights with love.

Interesting Comments...

2010-08-08T06:15:00.000-07:00

I stopped by to visit my blog this morning, thinking how interesting it's been that I have had so many comments on my posts. Trouble is, I can't read them and neither can most other bloggers here in the states at least. The comments are written in Japanese or Chinese, not even sure which language, because I can't tell them apart.

Please comment in English, so I can read what you have to say.

Beating Rush Hour Traffic to Home - A Better Commute

2010-06-23T18:24:00.000-07:00

Everyone complains about their commute. Even me. I'm tellin' ya, it's really tough rushing around the corners, down the hallway and back to the office before the kids catch me and need something done.

So, exactly what is it about commuting that brings people to their brakes?

It's not the travel, or the traffic, or even the radio guys... Seriously, it's the routine. So change it.

Change it up a bit... If you're driving.

Take a different route home now and then, just to get off the speedway. Don't drive the highway, take a less familiar route and maybe find yourself driving through a neighborhood where you don't know a single person. If you happen to find a park, take a moment and park the car. Take a quick stroll around the park or swing way up high in the sky. You'll enjoy the change and it will make your evening better.

Beat the rush hour traffic home by taking a better commute - one that leads you back to your youth in a way that leaves you feeling fresh.

Art -- Paintings by Jan Verhoeff

2010-05-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

Passing on the Legacy - Learning to Live with Fame

2010-04-13T21:10:00.000-07:00

Standing beside a man whose name is a household word at a funeral may not make you famous, but it gives you a sense of the familiar. Not so long ago, I held the hand of a friend who had dared to redress his popularity and hide among the multitudes in plain sight of the press. We'd attended the funeral of a dear friend, with press cameras popping, microphones stuck in our faces and the daring young journalists attempting to capture the essence of fame in tears.

He stood quietly, ignoring the cameras, ignoring the microphones, and paying no attention to agents of the press who attempted to smother him.

Later in the quiet stillness of a darkening night, I felt his hand on my shoulder and held him in my arms as he cried. No tears had been shed earlier, and I knew --- his silence had been intended for the press. Strength of character dominated his stature in public, but his strength left him unguarded in the quiet hours.

His legacy is passing, but the man stands strong. How could he live with the fame that stole his identity, placed him on a stage through the wee hours of the morning, and left him stressed and overburdened through the rest of the day. He lingered in that safe quiet stillness, hanging on to my shoulder. Sanity, all wrapped up in the significance of silence and tears... We held on to the memory of days and years passed by, when fame didn't shadow his every step and the person who filled his shoes wasn't the most sought after celebrity on the evening news.

The moment passed and he rode away on his great white horse (a stretch limousine with a driver) as I stood waving into the moonlight. A coyote howled in the distance, a bat flew through the moon rays and life continued on, one more moment after another, until the dawn arrived, with fingers of light spilling over the hillside and tear drops dried on my shoulder.

Tonight, with tear filled eyes, I remember... God bless you, my friend.

Charger Mom Takes on the Political Machine

2010-03-26T19:16:00.000-07:00

Just what I always wanted to do --- take on the political machine. Not only do I get involved in a campaign, working my buns off to get a candidate elected for U.S. Senate, but I manage to get myself involved in political discussions that go on for days, bickering with liberals who probably don't even vote. The real issue isn't the current administration, it's their guilt over making no choices and taking no stand against the liberal political machine that had determined themselves to be dictators that are taking us down a long road to no freedom, no liberty and no rights.

Is it a waste of my time or is it simply more of a side track to the edge of freedom. I don't want to let go and leave this alone. I don't want a dictator in Washington D.C. A few nights ago, I listened to Mike Huckabee tell his audience if they didn't want to live under current leaders they should run for office themselves. Or take a different tact, support the candidate they can get behind with funding. Either way works. But I don't have a lot of cash to put behind my candidate. So... I've chosen to support him with time and effort.

So, will I run, ever... Maybe. But not this year. This year, I'm satisfied to support a winning candidate and make it happen for him, so we can take back our country. Bring back our freedoms, and live FREE the way we were meant to live with liberties guaranteed by our Constitution.

We are born equal, given the freedom and liberty God created us for and we have the ability to bring back all the power and control to the people. The election in 2010 will make a difference. The people have the ability to bring it back. Because we the people have God. We trust and we believe in God, the father, the foundation of this nation.

Why am I a "Charger" Mom?

2010-02-22T08:43:00.000-08:00

This morning, like many mornings, my daughter is reading over my shoulder and asks a question about the language used in my blog post... The big question today, "Why are you a Charger Mom? They are like our biggest rivals and I hate the Chargers."

Ahem, I'm definitely a Denver Bronco's fan too, but the reality is, Charger Mom has nothing to do with the Chargers football team. Oris George, after an extremely hectic meeting and week of writing, saddled me with the nickname "Charger". Well, it stuck. A few weeks later, I was working with another writer to create a blogger site and the easiest way to do that is to create a blog. I have to say, I enjoy my mommy blogs, so Charger Mom came out of that experience.

So if you're searching online for a mom of a member of the Chargers Football team... Um... I'm not it.

Pregnant Sisters - the Joys and the Triumphs

2010-02-22T08:26:00.000-08:00

Watching daughters share the joys and triumphs of pregnancy gives new meaning to parenthood. Just this morning we discussed what we call little boys.

My granddaughter is a Princess, Little Missy, Chica (okay, not often), Girly, Sassy, Sissy and Goose. My grandson on the other hand is Mr., Little Man, Big Boy, Mr. Colm (since Colm is his name), and The Mr. --- not to mention, Mr. Moose.

Rarely do we refer to Elizabeth as Miss Elizabeth, although it does happen on occasion. But, Colm often hears his name as Mr. Colm. Is it really a boy/girl thing, or just the process of giving children nick names?

What ever happened to Prince Charming or Handsome Little Prince?

As the days come closer, and we anticipate the arrival of Colm and Elizabeth's little cousin --- whether he's a Mr. or she's a Miss ---- the discussions surrounding babies, pregnant mommies and parenting abound. We all have a new little nickname for the baby, and some of those have been, Little Hummer, "The Basketball", or Baby Bump. No matter what we call the next arrival, you can be assured that this Charger Mom can hardly wait for another grandbaby to set the world on fire.

Abandoned - Feeling as Though You Were Left Behind

2010-02-05T06:52:00.000-08:00

Life changes and personal decisions are often made between husbands and wives, sometimes disregarding the other's feelings in the matter. It is unintentional that one leaves the other out, in most cases. As one person does something for themselves, they feel as if they are doing it for both, but rarely is it a case of the second feeling as if the act was for them. More often, the other person feels as if they were left out of the decision if not the action. Life boils down to doing what is necessary for ourselves and sometimes that means abandoning another... Sometimes the abandonment is complete and eternal, other times it's a temporary separation.

If you're the one taking off for wild blue yonder, you may think the other person is being selfish, when in fact, they're missing you.

Feeling abandoned isn't selfish, it's a real, whole feeling that you're allowed to experience and express. Accepting the feelings and moving through them to gain control of a situation helps to gain access to the more pressing concern of what you're going to do about those feelings. In a whole "safe" relationship, a person feeling abandoned (temporarily) can work through the feelings with the other person and the relationship benefits from the experience. In a less safe relationship, the process can inflict permanent wounds.

Taking off for the next county for an hour or two of break time, feeling your own pain and experiencing life without the pitfalls of a host of family and friends gives you room to get a grip on your own feelings. Giving others notice, helps them to understand your purpose and that you'll come back.

The reality is, most of us feel abandoned at one time or another and that feeling is real. If you have family members who have been abandoned, don't perpetuate the issue by continuing to abandon them. Give them notice. "Hey, babe, I'm going to take a cruise. I'll be back."

If you're the one feeling like you've been left behind, don't push the panic button, give the other person time to reappear in your life. Acknowledge that not all exits are permanent and know that you can ave your feelings and still exist without the panic. You have a right and a responsibility to yourself to find a secure place to feel your own emotional highs and lows.

Irritable Personalities and Relationships

2010-01-01T16:36:00.000-08:00

Every family has them, those irritable personalities that require extra effort to get along with and maintain relationships. In our family there have been a few. My ex husband's family were filled up with rude obnoxious individuals who lacked the finesse required to be part of a family. For the most part, they were quite comfortable in their own world rejecting any newcomers and alienating family members without reason or cause. I remember thinking it was just his family's way of rejecting me (taking it personally for unknown reasons), but I've since found that it wasn't just his family. There are many families who have members (either in groups or singular) just like them.

I struggled for years to love them anyway, giving long after there was anything to give. Even after my ex left, realizing that he too was unable to be part of family relationships, I continued to find inner peace through loving. Eventually, I realized that I could choose to love them and they still might choose to reject the love.

Not everybody likes building relationships and being part of a family. Some actually prefer their solitude, at least they claim to prefer it. Whether they really don't want family, or just don't have any ability to co-associate and develop relationships, I'm not certain, but they certainly aren't willing to go the distance to be part of a family relationship.

In a recent discussion with my best friend, she revealed sharp comments made by a sister-in-law about her baby. She is a great mom, but the sister-in-law commented on how unkempt her children are. I've never seen her children unkempt. I have seen them happily playing in the sand box outside their home, or dancing in the sprinkler in the back yard during the summer. I reminded my friend that the sister-in-law has no children and no probably chance of ever having them because she's chosen a career choice that affords her no time for family... She's still single with no serious suitors. With the realization that parenting probably isn't part of the sister-in-law's future, my friend took a different tact to dealing with her over the holidays. Instead of being offended by her advice and comments, she responded with a knowing smile, "It's a real blessing to have children who are sometimes allowed to play and have fun without being concerned about fashion strategies."

When my daughter visited her husband's family and came home frustrated with a brother who has no children and lacks tact, we discussed the same issues. He isn't dating, lacks the ability to consider anyone else's perspective because he's all wrapped up in his own issues. His comments are out of lack of knowledge and understanding, and although they may be intended to strike out at her, she doesn't have to take them that way. She could actually consider his lack of personal experience and simply feel sorry for his inept position rather than taking his comments personally.

When we realize that we can perceive others out of our fullness of life, rather than acknowledging their emptiness, our lives and our responses to family relationships and irritable personalities changes. We gain control of the situation and become more than capable of loving the person through their irritable output. Our ability to love may not improve our relationships with those people, but it will allow us to live in peace without feeling rejection by those personalities.

Charger Mom - The New Super Woman

2009-10-16T21:06:00.000-07:00

I used to think superwoman wore a gold bra with red and white spangles all over what little parts of her body she covered. But over the past few weeks, I've come to recognize a different sort of Superwoman.

She's not wearing a swimsuit with meager proportions, and her hair doesn't remain in place no matter the weather. Sometimes her eyes are red from crying and she'd pop out of a swimsuit if she dared to try one on. Her view of life isn't presented before a golden staff, and she doesn't fly from place to place, although there are times when her wings are gilded and her halo holds a perfect shine. The glimpse of a tear in her eye will tell you, beyond any shadow of a doubt that she's not the superwoman figurine, she's a real mom, the total woman, Charger Mom.

Through the Pages of Parenthood, I'd like to introduce you to another Charger Mom, who takes her position and her responsibility very seriously. This mom is single and has fought out the battle that will eventually bring her great success and the privilege of knowing that she's accomplished great things and through her own efforts, her daughter, like my daughter, will know that life offers greatness, wonderment, and the thrill of parenthood.

Beating Down the Goblins to Win the Race Called Life

2009-10-08T20:22:00.000-07:00

Last week I spent a lot of time with my kids, thinking often about the lives we've shared along the way. There's never enough time to catch up on all the events and activities that we've missed, but we spend more time celebrating the miracle of those events we've shared. Until the moment when we realize there's something slightly out of sync and we must find the cause...

Brenna mentioned early in the week that she was feeling a bit down due to low response to sales over the past month, but even that didn't take away the joy we were all feeling at spending the time together. My meetings over the weekend didn't quite go as planned. One canceled all together, another postponed and yet one more was rescheduled for Tuesday. Even those events didn't slow down the emotional highs we experienced.

There was a moment when Brenna realized she was struggling financially due to low income from her job this month, but she spent a few moments feeling thrilled gratitude at the health and well being she was experiencing through her pregnancy. She mentioned the wonder she feels at the sight of her AMAZING daughter.

Later, Tatia mentioned how hard it is to always be on top of life and happy, when things go wrong. We talked about being grateful for the good things that come, even when things are going wrong. Sometimes out of the ashes a phoenix does rise.

Discussions of life goblins and how we beat them, before they get to us came up. We chattered about the various goblins our lives have encountered and how we always seem to come out feeling better for the experience. There's an understanding of the process of living that comes from struggling through the failures and destructions of life that allows each of us to encounter the joy of simply overcoming those issues. We all know the gratitude of finding greater pleasures, and these are the reasons.

For interesting stories about how a young single mom overcomes the daily rigors of life and manages to love more, give more and laugh harder, visit Pages of Parenthood. Be sure to sign up for the Ezine and get your fair share of the wonderful gifts and free tips Brenna shares in her revelation of life.

Health Care Reform and Other Government Oddities

2009-09-03T08:36:00.000-07:00

If you're socializing on the government ticket this year, you've probably noticed a few disagreements in the system. There's more than a few but a couple are just really irritating the natives around my part of the country.

Obama Health Care PLAN - can we say STUPID? Expensive even. There are better ways and I found one in an unlikely spot. This California farmer (maybe they do grow a few smart ones out there) has a great idea and this one sounds phenomenally feasible.

Cash for Clunkers - Whatever happened to if it ain't broke don't fix it? I can't tell you how incredibly stupid it is to blow up a good engine. I watched a few online thinking there had to be a point to the process, other than adding smog to the atmosphere and blowing up more pot metal. What was that about ecological benefits? How much did Gore get for that stunt?

Cap and Trade ---- If there IS an Ecological purpose for the energy crisis, I believe the process of buying energy tickets may actually be the cause of it. Why does Al Gore and his family deserve more credits than any other family on the planet? Stop the insanity, burn an ecologist! Seriously - the logic is better.

Stimulus --- Any homemaker knows that when the budget is tight you stay home and cook, you don't go spend more money. It just doesn't work that way. Let's see if we can't fix this goof-aw before he becomes any more of a travesty to the nation.

Cal Ripken World Series - Go Team!

2009-08-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered what a "soccer mom" does when the world series comes to town? You guessed it, I've been hauling kids back and forth to whatever event is happening next. And now there's a deck to measure and build, a door to replace, and the world is getting busier and busier.

Valley National Bank Field is running the official call for weather. It's canceled! The world will never be the same, but there it is, postponed for the night.

But that's okay - if you want to hear what the Cal Ripkin 10-year-old World Series is doing in Lamar, Colorado, just visit the site, click on the link.

The best part, I get the night off to put my feet up and pretend I'm interested in whatever the kids are watching on Television. It's okay, I've got a Ben & Jerry's double dip chocolate fudge Ice Cream and my spoon to keep me company!

2009-07-10T13:40:00.001-07:00

Oris, Life Sucks...

2009-06-13T11:50:00.000-07:00

Or not. I'm actually having a good day. Mom bended my ear for three hours earlier today. Then you called, THANK YOU! She called me back to repeat her earlier stories. I listened through the nasty details time one, laid the phone down and went to stir the soup during the second time, the third time I laid the phone down and went to get my bowl of soup. The forth time, I just laid the phone down and typed on my book. The fifth time she started into it, I said, "Mom, I'm going to ban you from the phone when it's meal time." She got off the line in a huff. I can't imagine why.

It's all a conspiracy, I tell you. It's the motherhood (my girls will agree - we won't ask my boys).

I don't have hives today. My cough is actually sounding a little less hacky. My throat doesn't hurt and my eyes aren't bloodshot. I may live.

Sean actually got up a little before noon and has more than one article of clothing on his body (of course, I threatened to walk around shirtless with my underwear sticking out if he didn't get dressed - such a sight - could cause a boy to go blind).

Kenton took a shower (we're still looking for it) and sounds better this morning. Of course, he hasn't lifted his face out of the book since he opened the cover, so we haven't heard much of him.

The girls haven't called me yet today, probably don't want to talk to me... Really, a good thing for them. I need to find bitch mode and turn it off. I'll be back to something simulating normal, soon.

Charger

"In GOD we trust..."

http://janverhoeff.com

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A New Beginning - Time to Rethink Values

2009-06-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

In my 49 years of living, I've never before doubted the ability of this nation to survive and overcome the tragedies that have befallen us. People have held together and stood strong against the turmoil of danger, against nature, and even against terrorism until now.

At laser speed, the last presidential election was taken by a man who holds no value in this great land. His efforts thus far have been to destroy the country I've grown up in and love. His stance on foreign policy has been apologetic and critical of the people he's sworn to uphold and represent. On numerous occasions, he's stooped to levels below treason, daring to apologize for the people of this nation who stood and fought on foreign soil for FREEDOM, LIBERTY and JUSTICE, the very foundation of the country in which we live.

I see a man who swore an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America, shredding it, tearing it to pieces by behavior so unbelievable by the masses that they're often left speechless by his actions. I've heard this man demoralize our troops in his words and deeds, blatantly criticizing people who fought for this country, and read page after page of his idiotic schemes to right the wrongs he perceives through the destruction of our liberty.

It's been said that those who are not for him, supporting and encouraging his actions are against him, terrorists against the nation. This is untrue. The terrorist is the man who is leading this nation and the people who trust him into sure and unfaltering failure at the hands of those who have decried their antagonism and hatred for the people of America for generations.

Freedom of Speech is our First Amendment Right under the Constitution of the United States of America, and yet, so few are standing up against the terrorism that is happening right here under our noses. So few are willing to hold onto the values our forefathers set before us when they wrote and died themselves, for the Declaration of Independence and all that it stands for. In this nation where greatness is a privilege offered to every person born under the Stars and Stripes to which we pledge our allegiance and pronounce our trust in the God, the Creator of this Land, people have forgotten the reason why their fathers, brothers, uncles and grandfathers died. Join the 9-12 Project and get involved in the RIGHTING of the Wrongs being done to this nation.

We who know what this nation stands for have allowed the few who cry louder to stop our children from praying in our schools. We've allowed them to rewrite the history our children read and remove from the pages of books the importance of holding tight to the resource of Faith as we strive to protect our Freedom, Liberty and Justice. We the people of this nation have allowed others to step into our midst and threaten to remove "In God We Trust" from our structure.

It is time, people.... It is time to stand up and be counted as soldiers for the Cross of Jesus Christ, and pursue the righteous RIGHTS bestowed upon us by God, the inalienable rights guaranteed by the Constitution of these United States of America. It is time to stand up and hold tight the values of the forefathers of our United States and stop the foolish cohortation of our President with Terrorists who threaten to undermine our Constitution and our Values. This is a call to action, prayer warriors, to encourage you to start right now, praying for the leaders of this nation and standing on the values you know are right.

We have time to turn this ship against the storm of socialism bearing down on us, but we must act today!

Dreams of Grandeur and Eloquence

2009-05-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in the past life dealt out a different set of parameters. I don't know when it changed, but it did most definitely change. I remember when I first began to realize the changes, I was sitting on the park bench with Rick and we were talking about the future. He wanted to run the ranch, and I wanted to work with children. My dream was teaching Bible School, Youth Activities, and Youth Group - and he wanted to help me with that on the weekends. We planned to have a ministry "on the side" because ranching was his primary interest.

Back then I didn't have children. I was dedicated to pursuing life before I had a family. My primary concern was being married to the best looking Rancher I'd ever met and living happily ever after.

One stormy night he left to get home the next day in time to work roundup and didn't make it home. Within a few minutes of the time he left me sitting on the front step of my home, he had a head on collision with a truck, and our dreams were shattered. Many hours, I've looked back on that night and wondered, would life have been different had I agreed to pack my things and go with him, or would I have died in that accident too?

Either way, my dreams changed that night. My life changed that night. The future looked a bit different, because I'd known Rick, but even more... because we'd shared our dreams. Since that time, my dreams of teaching Bible School, working with Youth Groups and many other opportunities of teaching Bible to children have come to pass. I know and understand where I belong in life and I understand the concept of Faith. I know where my faith comes from, and how it applies to my life.

That understanding has brought me through the valleys to the peak of the mountain many times, as I wade through the trials and disillusions that exist in my world. That understanding has given me hope and peace.

I'm not alone. I have my family and friends. I have the neighbors and people of my community around me. And I have a vast network of associates and partners in the business world. But, more than any of that, I have God, His word, and the Holy Spirit living in my heart, who remind me every day that I have Jesus.

Witty Challenge - Coolest Woman on the Planet

2009-03-31T13:50:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I was thinking about where my website was going and a friend challenged me to profitability on our respective sites. We've both been writing for a while, but my sites have been more profitable, while she's better published. Ahem... At least in fiction realms!

So what to do to maximize my profits and invite more readers? I considered for a few moments doing a pay per read, all of about two seconds... I really think you get more if you're reading for content than for pay. So, that didn't last long. Then I considered the options.

Determining the Coolest Woman on the Planet, and actually having a contest to win the award, might be okay - IF I wanted to give up the title. I don't. I earned it through SEO and I'm keeping it, and I don't really plan to share it --- other than a visit now and then by a GUEST Coolest Woman on the Planet at my blog by the same name. So, I'm still toying with the idea of giving away a GUEST Coolest Woman on the Planet. But, in order to do that, I'd have to invite people to nominate the Coolest Woman on the Planet somehow, and that's when I came up with this post idea...

If you have someone you'd like to nominate as the Coolest Woman on the Planet - add your nomination in a comment beneath this post, give me a NAME, contact information (via your confidential disclosure of email) and any pertinent information as to WHY she's the Coolest Woman on the Planet.

If we do this right, we might even have to do a Pageant where the runners up would be the Coolest Woman in the World, the Coolest Woman in the Universe, and perhaps the Coolest Woman under the Sun...

There is, by the way, a really awesome gift for the Coolest Woman on the Planet Contest. Right now, it's a Coffee Basket from The Coffee Clatter. But, if there's enough women nominated, the prize may get a lot better. Nominate your winner and let's see who gets the basket. I'll be putting it together soon and taking a photo to upload either here or at the Coffee Clatter. (Maybe both.)

Baseball Cards - The Collection of Purpose

2009-03-29T20:49:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, my boys started collecting Baseball Cards. At the time, I figured it was an innocent pass-time. They'd enjoy the cards, eventually their cards would wind up in the toy box, tossed aside and probably tossed out ultimately. Big deal! I could deal with a few baseball cards scattered over the floor. At least they weren't legos I was stepping on in the middle of the night.

Then... It happened. One of my friends shared with them the value of trading baseball cards on ebay. Whoohoo! They're entrepreneurs. It's a great idea, and I actually loved the thought of them trading on ebay, it would teach business skills, advertising, and other skills for real world learning. I encouraged it.

Then along came the rules of the process and they must be 18 to trade on ebay. Okay, we can do that. I'll just sign up and do the actual trading and let them have the cash, etc. from their trades.

One step at a time, we had to actually begin making profits first. That's done. Here come the profits and we're off. The race is on. We sold remarkable numbers of cards, and I seriously thought that was the end of the collection. Out came the next box...

Five shoe boxes later, I finally take a breath and ask how many more cards we have to trade... "Oh, just another three or four boxes, Mom."

My deep breath became a sigh. "Go get them." I suggest, thinking we'd have three or four SHOE boxes. No such thing... There were three or four shoe boxes in EACH box of baseball cards, and there we had it... Boxes, and boxes, and more boxes of baseball cards they'd collected at every fair, every police holiday, every parade, and every time they'd had an opportunity to gather up Baseball cards, they'd collected the cards and began organizing them into groups of cards. Some for teams, some groups for All Star Players, and other various groups of cards. We'd been selling cards for more than six months and there were TONS more to sell. In fact, I could literally see us selling baseball cards for the next eleven years and still having more to sell. The collection was unending.

So, then the thought came to me... I wonder if we're under-selling any of these cards, so... I started searching for valuable baseball cards. Don't you love the Internet. It's so easy to search out this kind of valuable information.

We had many cards that were worth way more than we'd been selling them for, and I thought we could do better than we'd been doing with the cards. So, I proposed a different marketing strategy to the boys. They liked it.

I'm not about to disclose that strategy here, but I am going to tell you that within the next several weeks, we'll be presenting some interesting sales techniques for marketing Baseball Cards. And I'll be sorting through those cards to find out how many of them are Baseball cards, how many are Beanie Baby Cards and how many are some other kind of card that hasn't yet hit the hot market --- who knows, we may be able to create a NEW hot market....

It's all in the marketing strategy, baby!

Washed up on the Beaches of Kansas

2009-03-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

You may think the world is your oyster, but when people start yakking about the Beaches of Kansas, you've gotta wonder where they're coming from. Last fall, N.T. Betz spoke at the Fall into Publishing Conference about the thrills of beating dinosaur bones out of the Great Plains, referencing the Oceans of Kansas. Little did I know it would inspire much of the winter writing programs in which I participated.

This morning, when I awakened to a raging blizzard, my email account was filled to the brim with tributes to the snow. Except for one...

Don Buck of Hasty, Colorado sent a quick message referencing the breeze in the Palms, sunny bright morning, and the easy of plucking a fresh pineapple for breakfast outside his home. Balmy days and sea gulls edged their way into the day and the beaches of Kansas sprang forth. Who knew a blizzard on the prairie could render such delightful thoughts of sand, flip flops and bikini clad figures playing in the sun?

I gazed out the window at snow blowing from the top of the house next door, filling up my yard with drifts tall enough to bury a pine tree, and wondered if there's truly a warm corner of the planet at this very moment? I'm sure there is, but right now, at my house the shivers indicate chilling breezes, cold floors, snow blowing at the windows, and life in a Colorado winter.

So, the question is, what do you do on a cold snowy Colorado day?

How about twitter? Follow me at http://twitter.com/janverhoeff

It's fun, it's easy, and there's a ton of people on there, yakking about the weather.

Global Warming or Merely the Coming of the Next Season?

2009-03-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

It's March! In case you haven't noticed as you scoop through layers of snow and ice in some parts of the country, the rest of us have been basking in the warmth of an unusually tepid spring. I toy with the concept of gardening, about this time of year, dancing through the early mornings with a thought of raising flowers again, or wondering if they're going to spring forth in all their industrious beauty, as they have in years past and know that I probably don't have to do anything for the bulbs that have lain dormant for the past many winters. Each spring, they rally and surface just in the nick of time, administering their love and joy of abundant spring weather. But what about the drought?

In my nearly fifty years of living (it's funny how I enjoy the sound of that), I have learned that drought follows the floods of moisture and time settles most of the dust that rages across the Colorado prairies. Though we tend to experience more drought here, than rain, the reality is, this is where we live. Drought is part of that existence, because that's what happens on the Great Plains. You don't expect blizzards and gully washers in the Sahara desert, so why would you expect them in the great plains? In reality, those of us who live here have become accustomed to the ebb and flow of seasons. We adjust and enjoy the passing of time, replete in the promise of the next season.

I wonder however, at the concept of Global Warming. Many of the people who have determined that our earth is warming beyond natural temperatures have lived on the planet longer than I. So, do they honestly believe the natural rise and fall of temperatures indicates global warming? Or.. And this is what I believe more likely, are they persistently spouting rhetoric to draw attention and build wealth? The dance of nature offers so much, can you imagine living in fear of nature and using that fear to grow wealth on the faces of other people's fears? The gravity of such an act causes me to wonder about human nature.

I believe living green is a good policy and I'm even seriously considerate of the size of my foot print. However, I'm also acutely aware of the policy of do as I say, not as I do, of which Al Gore and his component rookies participate. Mr. Gore doesn't travel cheap, and his home is a far cry from modest. Has his footprint gotten too big for his britches? Is he, perhaps, crying wolf a bit too loudly while continuing to play in the fire?

The changing of the season makes for happiness, spouting a breath of fresh air, warmth aside, the season coming promises great abundance. I'll be enjoying it.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think of our strange weather patterns.

Holy Moly He Said It!!!

2009-03-05T20:16:00.000-08:00

My son, the writer kind of son, who has been editing Twilight as he reads it, just spoke the words every parent deigns to hear. "Mom, it's true, the movie isn't nearly as good as the book." Of course, the book has all ready been published, so it probably matters not one whit that he thinks she used the word "and" way more than necessary. Imagine a 14 year old who recognizes mal-formed sentence structure? Or a kid, any where in the universe, who understands that -ly words are merely flecks of universal dust in the whole of planetary justice.

I could write a whole book on -ly words alone, of course, with the help of my good buddy and friend, Oris George, who abhors them even more than he dislikes pink and cute.

Of course, you realize how important this is that my son is reading a book as thick and discriminate as Twilight, in the first place. He should be, as all tweens should be, playing video games with no earthly awareness that books exist. However, it's important to note in this most sacred of all moments that this particular tween is home educated. You know, he's on the EDGE of, delinquent, verging near the site of hysterically unsocialized and contaminated by parental impressionism. Never mind the fact that he's got a myspace page, a facebook page, and his own blog, not to mention numerous friends whom he hangs with whenever he has the opportunity. And (I'm certain he'd comment on the use of that conjunction, as well), he's already a published author with another book in progress.

Tuesday night, my older son and I attended a meeting of Constitution stuff, it's called a class of some kind and we both get a real thrill out of attending the class. He, because it's about the constitution, politics, war, and presidents who didn't do what they were supposed to do. Me, because I'm studying criminal justice and the two topics just fit together like all-bran and diapers, and nobody cares which one came first.

During the discussion Tuesday night we got around to talking about Federalism, the Federal Reserve and all the guck that came along with President Teddy and his attempt to prove himself dictator of the nation by running for term number four. (I say, thank God for term limits.) Sean's bit of wisdom had a room full of men nearly speachless. For a 15 year old (home educated) kidlet to spark that much fire into a conversation takes knowledge. He rarely holds back. He snaps out that information as if he knows what he's talking about, confidently and sure of himself. And, he's right on the money (or in the case of Federal Reserve Notes, Gold.)

So, I've nearly broken my arm this week patting myself on the back for raising such fine and upstanding young men... and my daughter calls.

Mom, I've got a problem. (Does anyone besides me see the Enterprise burning?) She's 23 and quite contentedly self-confident enough to get herself out of most any problem a young woman might find herself in, except for this one. "I can't get the key out of my ignition."

"Jiggle it."

"Mom!!! You think, I didn't try that before I called you?"

"Humor me. Jiggle it." So, she does (I heard the keyring rattling).

"Nothing."

"Okay, jiggle it, turn the car on, turn it back to lock and then try to pull it out." She tries.

"Nothing."

"Okay, push it in, jiggle it and follow those steps in reverse." I suggest, "are you sitting in the seat?"

"Yes. Nothing."

"Take it to the nearest dealership and have them check it, you probably need an ignition switch."

"Mom, I have work to do."

"I know."

"Okay."

So, she takes her car to the dealership and they reach in, pull the key out, put it back in and jiggle it, pull it out, put it in, pull it out, and it's all working fine.

"Mom, you're not going to believe it." She's on the phone again.

"It works fine."

"How did you know?"

"It always happens. Get back to work before you get fired!"

It's page 37 of Twilight and my son is still counting "ands" in the book. "Mom, I loved the movie, and this writer is really good --- well, except for the fact that every other word practically is the word AND or has an -ly on it." There's a long slow sigh and I'm not sure what he's going to say next... "I really do like the book better than the movie, you're right. I should read more books."

Holy Moly, He said it!!!!

A Charger of a Different Kind

2009-03-03T05:37:00.000-08:00

I'm not a really big sports fan, but this story captured my attention. John Elway definitely had a way of winning, and more than just on the football field. He's been active enough in the state of Colorado to cause a few ripples in the political spectrum (not that we agree on much), and he's definitely a big enough name to capture the attention of the media.

When a guy with that kind of power puts out energy to help encourage a kid, it speaks to my heart. For that reason, I wanted to share this story with my readers. He's a charger of a different kind and if he ever stops by here, I'd like him to know I appreciated his efforts in this case.

A Quote to Live By - Winston Churchill

2009-03-03T04:34:00.000-08:00

"We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give."
~ by Winston Churchill

In the Wee Still Hours of the Afternoon - Along the Back Roads

2009-02-28T22:07:00.000-08:00

In all your born days, you've never experienced such a moment as this. Oris George sitting still in his chair, reckoning the day away, while the spinning wheel sits off to the side of the fire waiting. The stories we could tell...

Danielle Simone, Don Buck, Patsy Reed, and I twittered over the setting, arranging, placing, adjusting and detailing the cards in Oris George's collection until they sparkled and shone in the glaring light of the lamp. Through the haze of smoke from the burning fire, we worked our fingers to the bone, un-nourished and underfed, the lot of us for nearly four grueling hours of laborous tending to perfect the display.

There he sat, smug on his throne, chastizing Danielle for fuzzy pictures, smirking at Patsy as she worried over hostess duties, and lamblasting Don for not being off at the salt mines pining away his day. Little did he know, I was taking notes. I'll remember his course behavior, and his portly manner, and that haughty attitude until my dying day.

Honestly, there was NO pleasing the man, he wanted the cards turned this way and that, tilted just a little, no back just a tad. Can we light them up better, and finally, when the day was done and we'd worried ourselves sick over the placement of each mule sketched card, he suggested we get the heck out of his house and don't come back until next week in time for writer's meeting. The audacity of that man is beyond me. I can't imagine how such a man could consider for a moment that he deserves a life of fame.

Then, at the last moment, as he shoved us out the door, he saved the day with two quarters tossed out in my direction. I was so pleased to have made a penance for the day. Can you imagine? Now, I can feed my children, keep a roof over our heads, and put a quart of gasoline in the car.

I feel blessed to know a man of such prominance and demeanor!

Thinking Thin Thursday - almost on Saturday

2009-02-27T22:16:00.000-08:00

I just heard about this Thinking Thin on Thursday thing. Actually, considering my friend Danielle kick started a new diet this Thursday, I figured it would be a worthy effort. Definitely a good comment to make.

We've both been life dieters, trying to keep the food off by not eating (it doesn't work), you always eat. So, we've tried exercise... The walk to the refrigerator works off about 2% of the calories we get each day. Then there's that other 98% we don't work off while we're sitting on our backsides typing into the computer. Ahem... Do you think... Nah!

I have skinny fingers! Doesn't that count?

So, perhaps... If this thinking thin thing gets around and everybody is thinking thin, we can get rid of the pounds because we're all thinking them out into the stratosphere and giving them to those hungry folks on the foodless planet. I wonder how far out on the Information Highway, the foodless planet exists?

I've seriously considered mounting a desktop of sorts on the front of the treadmill so I can walk and type at the same time, then I'd have to get a bigger screen.

But, the plan is... We drink plenty of water, watch the caloric intake and exercise more. I walked further today than I have other days this week. I drank two glasses more water. And I ate almost 30% less calories than yesterday. I'm good! My goal is a longer walk tomorrow and more exercise, 30% less calories again (that should be where I want to be for the whole three week diet) and add two more glasses of water.

Thinking Thin Thursday will come on Thursday next week. (I heard about it a day late!)

Walking the Trail - Hiking Your Way Through Life

2009-02-27T11:21:00.000-08:00

Sometimes my feet hurt. The hike along nature's trails gets to be too danged much to follow and I just want to set it out and ride. But migration doesn't happen that way. We're seriously on our own in the natural migration of life that co-exists with power strategies, growing up, growing old, and challenging ourselves to be the best we can be.

When my friend Danielle Simone suggested I look at her Trails of Nature blog, I thought she'd probably lost her nuts and pickled her brains. I'm not a dinosaur nut, nor am I truly interested in geology (although I took a class once) but the paleontology thing that I took her to be writing didn't appeal to me on ANY level. Seriously, I've heard Tom Betz chatter on about the paleontology tooth thing, and seen some of his dinosaur fossils, even listened as he talked about combining paleontology and writing (he tells great stories and I absolutely adore watching him tell them), but do I want to read a whole blog about pre-historic creatures that weren't potty trained? No, thank you!

Then I remembered that Danielle can write tall tales about a used up old Toyota and make it sound like a delicate southern belle with sexy tail-lights. Okay, I'm in. Let me check out this blog.

Her post about Butterflies and migration drew me into the blog, and this was only her second post. Life gets in the way and I'm off to not only read her blog, but write a review of the darned thing... Sheesh! What will they think of to occupy my time next? But it's a terrific stop along the walking trail I choose to take through life. I'm gonna dare say, you'll enjoy a stop along the Trails of Nature too.

If you, like the rest of the humanoid type population, are hiking your way through life looking for sustenance, inspiration and some other tangible act of nature to remind you how big and wonderful the universe can be, take a detour past the Trails of Nature blog and see what you can find to sustain your perspective as you climb the mountains of existence. You just might find a Monarch Butterfly on your shoulder to guide you (or angel wings fluttering in the distance) and a caring tender heart to share your path.

Older Women are Beautiful Lovers

2009-02-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Listening to the radio occasionally bites. Like this morning. I've enjoyed the day so far, good things have happened, most of them created good feelings about who I am, and then this song bops across the radio waves.

"Older Women, are beautiful lovers" ahem.

And the song wanders on across the air waves with me thinking about the words. It hasn't been but a couple of days since one of my favorite guys (he's a great friend, who tends to call me when he's a bit over the edge) called me in a mild stupor to tell me what a great person I am, how lovely I am, and that I'd be a wonderful lover. I smiled and enjoyed the praise all the while knowing that he'd be sober in the morning. What a lovely guy!

I'm sure other single women get the same kinds of phone calls from friends. You get them, smile and appreciate the compliments and know that come daylight, they'll have forgotten the phone call, and you'll be having breakfast alone, and if you're smart, you'll be sleeping alone too. But, how are you supposed to fend off those phone calls and the men who randomly come with them, when you really are lonely and you'd like to have someone who believes you're lovely ALL the time?

Ladies, being single isn't all it's cracked up to be, never has been, but... being married to the wrong guy reeks! Don't settle. There's more to life than busting your buns for a man who doesn't really love you, doesn't really like you, and refuses to pay attention to you unless he wants something from you. Find a man who truly loves you and is willing to be everything you need him to be. If you're going to risk the farm, the future, and your net worth for this guy, he'd seriously better be worth your effort.

Once you realize how content you are with yourself. The right guy will come along. It's okay to be single until he does come along. Chin up! You're okay and you'll have a great life, even if you're single.

Social Media - Get To Know Me

2009-02-24T08:48:00.000-08:00

Janeen tagged me, and I'm answering here instead of on a social media, so I can link back to my blog.

Here are the rules - post this list on your profile (in Notes or on your blog) replacing my answers with yours.

Tag 25 people to do the same thing....or not.

If I tagged YOU, it's because I think you're funny, and would enjoy your responses.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
a couple of relatives and some friends, but I never was sure whom. I guess one of them would have been Janet and the other Dorine?

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Yesterday, my son tried to stand up and was having difficulty because of the chicken poks. He's better today.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I love it, it's got a script sort of eloquence, locked in the passage of time, and it feels good when I hold a pen. I have favorite pens too.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Oscar Meyer Ham with tomatoes, onion, lettuce and cheese on rye with mustard (and mayo) . Well, lunch meat becomes a sandwich, right?

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Four wonderful children and a granddaughter who lights up my world.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Definitely yes. I've always enjoyed my own company. I don't mind being alone, and I love having time to just enjoy nature with myself.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Randomly, it's something I don't appreciate much, but it does occasionally grab me by the throat and force its way through my lips.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes, and most other body parts, plus a few wraps of surgical steel.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
If I must jump, I want a bungee. But, I've never been convinced there's a logical reason to jump.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Corn Pops - my granddaughter and I love to share breakfast! Does anyone else remember that they used to be called Sugar Pops?

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
What shoes? I generally go barefoot so much I forget I have them... I LOVE working from home.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Cherry Vanilla Nut. I can't get enough of it. It's been a while since I've had it though.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
I like people who are real. I often meet people who try to give themselves a boost by overtaking the world by storm. They lack confidence in themselves, although they should not, and so in order to feel better they put others down.

15. RED OR PINK...
Passionate deep rich reds and forever pinks. I can't get enough of either color.

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
I can be judgmental about some things.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Ty

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
Sure, I think it's awesome.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue pants and gray shoes.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The furnace blower and the computer clicking away as I type. Peaceful.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Saffron Yellow

23. FAVORITE SMELLS
Lilacs, the first smell of the heater coming on (yup, that dusty fresh smell of winter), and a fireplace.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My niece.

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
Janeen from Your Impact Matters

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Ice skating!!!

27. HAIR COLOR
Dark auburn. It just fits me perfectly. That natural color of gray doesn't do a thing for me!

28. EYE COLOR?
something between hazel and brown, with some blue-green lights.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Nope - glasses for long distance sometimes.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Greek Pasta - It's absolutely my favorite dinner meal.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Neither - I don't do scary, thriller or horror. I can event enough of that stuff during tax season.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Catch that Kid - through maybe two or three scenes. I'm so not a movie person... I can't sit long enough, there's too much to get done.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
pink and blue

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Both, I love snow in winter, but I absolutely adore summer green yards.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs --- all kinds. Tender passionate kisses, the kind that curl your toes.

36. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Editing again, "Escape from the Farmer Maffia" last time, I send out the manuscript this week.

37. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
http://ezinearticles.com and on my coffee cup, and on my jacket. I love ezinearticles.com

Sandwich Generation - Home School Solutions

2009-02-23T14:15:00.000-08:00

If you're stuck between a rock and a hard place (okay, this guy isn't stuck, he's just there) with kids who need your attention and parents who require your time, you can feel squeezed. There's got to be a solution to the time crunch of life in the sandwich.

As a single mom, I feel the time crunch even heavier than some of my married friends (at least according to them). I've always wondered how they do it with two sets of parents to do for, take care of, and manage with children still at home.

I have one set of parents and two children still at home, two grown and a granddaughter. My life seems to never stop. Even when I do lie down at night, I feel the pull of work left undone. Those hours between bedtime and daylight when I'm supposed to be sleeping are often filled up with concerns about how I can get one more thing done than I have time for the next day. Sometimes, I wonder how I can be in two places at once, then I realize I can't be in one place. Something has to give.

The struggle to maintain a life and live in the sandwich gets to be too much. Generations cover you up and overwhelm your day, even when life is going normal. By home schooling my children, I've learned that there are times when I can do more than one thing, using time to teach as part of my work time. While I'm working at a writing project, I can instruct my children or help them with research. Often a research project for them becomes a writing project for me. I give them an assignment and write my project, while they're researching theirs. (That may be why some of my writing projects seem a bit on the outside of normal.)

As a single Mom, I must carry it all. There isn't any one to pick up what I drop, so I have to carry the load. At least that's the thought that crosses my mind on those nights when sleep doesn't come and I've left work undone.

Would it be easier if I wasn't home schooling my children? When this question came up during a conversation a few weeks back, I realized that my children often share part of the load. By participating in our lives 100% of the time, they often carry part of the load. Not necessarily work, worry or stress, but their education is based on our lives, so we're not rushing off to a basketball game in the middle of math class, but rather math class is part of our experience of life, the basketball game is free time. Attending a basketball game can be family fun or even playing basketball can be an afternoon out. Home schooling makes education a part of the life you live, rather than education being what you do in life.

The solution is to get involved in the life around you. Whether it's older parents, children, college age adults or toddlers, do whatever you choose to do with gusto and dedication. Give it all you've got, joyfully, and experience the moments, each and every moment.

Take time to feel the joy!

Charger - The Power to Override Injustice

2009-02-21T08:06:00.000-08:00

South of my hometown there's a mountain we call Two Buttes (you can see the bumps on the horizon in the picture - that's it) and it rises up out of the prairie like a sentinel to time. The pioneers pointed their wagons toward the mountain for several days, knowing it would lead them westward, watching it rise out like a phoenix on the sunset side of the horizon. Skirting the mountain to the south, they trailed the Butte Creek Valley that gouged a channel through the land. On the north, the mesa rose up out from the valley floor and if you were far enough north, the Arkansas River ran wide and strong.

As a child, I remember thinking nothing was bigger than Two Buttes. I'd been to the Rocky Mountains, and there were just more mountains in a different shape, they didn't seem bigger.

I remember hearing Granddad talk about Uncle Bill driving in the Rockies. No matter which way he was going, he drove on the mountain side of the narrow canyon roads. Even Uncle Bill could navigate Two Buttes. Two Buttes Mountain was the biggest thing on the prairie. No roads crossed the mountain, and I'd actually be surprised to find out Uncle Bill bothered to climb the mountain. He tended to do the necessary rather than the flamboyant.

The mountain rising out of the prairie seemed superfluous to me as a child. There was no obvious reason for the mountain. I'd often asked if there was any reason why the mountain was there, or what purpose it served, but there was never an answer. Below, the river runs through a valley cut through the land, but on the prairie, the mountain reigns supreme.

Life on the prairie wraps around the concept of living big. You can't live small on the prairie, you have to exist on a higher greater plane. The mountain stands as a sentinel, as do the wind chargers that have more recently grown out of the mesa. Standards of modern technology suck power from rivers of wind that scorch life from the Buffalo Grass and harden and crack the land.

Independently a windmill can draw water from the earth and provide power for a battery too light up a home for one family, in mass the towering giant generators can bring power to wide bands of country side. Homesteaders relied on windmills to draw water from deep in the ground. Now cities draw power from vast cartwheeling giants that hover over the plains, miniaturizing the mountain that previously reigned.

The wind carries more power than the mountain, in this scenario. No matter how big the mountain, the wind generates power and brings sanctions against the prairie, scolding those who live there for not thinking big enough, revering those who understand the thought of going outside the concept of raising cattle to feed their families and grow wealth. Greater resources have none, compared to these winds of time, towers in the sun that dance supreme over the grasses and beasts of the prairies.

Technology isn't always a pretty or pleasant option, but it seems to be the modern option. Injustice surrounds us, and the power to override injustice resides in the source, the power supply of the future. Those who are big enough to give you anything are big enough to take everything away.

Sandwich Generation - I wanna be cheese!

2009-02-17T21:07:00.000-08:00

And pass the latte please?

My kids are treasures. It's amazing what great, wonderful kids I have. I know it's amazing because I grew up in the root system of my family tree.

The roots are rotten. (Sorry, Grandma and Granddad, but you spawned a herd of very angry children who seriously lack the ability to live on a planet with other creatures successfully.) The next generation, those of us who came along after about 1959, in what's commonly known as the "me generation" all seem to have good attitudes and congenial relationships with most people.

I'm looking at the sandwich of which I'm definitely the middle, thinking there's some crusty bread on one side at least (I think it may even be a little old and stale). Then there's some wilted veggies, ewwww....

A slice of meat. Um *shaking head* definitely NOT me. And cheese. There I am, sharp cheddar with some age, but agile enough to take on even the smartest apple. And another slice of fresh tender bread slathered with a thick layer of mayo. Yup, I'm definitely the cheese. Don't wanna go near that crusty loaf on the other end.

I'd explain this post a little better, but... I'd have to kill you and I need my readers... Leave a comment if you really wanna hear the story and I might tell you tomorrow, after I've calmed down.

Corn-dog Lunch on the Run

2009-02-15T11:34:00.000-08:00

You may be one of those moms who always has it together, prepares the right kinds of foods for every meal and never dares to feed your kids junk foods, but that's not me. I love junk food now and then, and I don't think it hurts kids to have some of the fun foods the rest of the world grew up on. And shoot me if you must, but I don't think junk food is the reason kids these days are FAT.

I personally believe that kids are fat because they sit in front of the TV playing video games too much.

So, stop chastising yourself if you don't always have a healthy meal and get your kid out from in front of the Television. Let me suggest a few alternatives for the healthy meal routine.

Corn-dog lunches on the way to the park for an afternoon of play time. Good idea, here! Just stick those corn-dogs in the oven for 20 minutes while you wrap up your tykes and get 'em ready to go. On the way out the door, hand each of them a corn-dog and grab one for yourself. Then walk to the nearest park with your dog on a stick. All the neighbors will sniff the air as you go by, and honey, I can assure you, they're not turning up their nose. They'll be heading out to the store within the next few days to get some Corn-dogs. Those things can be addicting, and if you haven't had one in a while, you're probably drooling by now.

It's okay! It isn't rocket science that you can bake a corn dog at home in the oven, add on some yellow mustard (the cheapy French's variety) and enjoy a corn dog now and then. They're tasty and delicious. You'll enjoy it and you won't crave them forever if you have one now and then. If you must have something healthy, drink a V-8 and stop smacking yourself on the forehead.

By the way, if you think I'm nuts. I don't have fat kids and I've fed them corn dogs once or twice a month at least for the past twenty-five years. We didn't pork out on them, we had one or two with some mustard or catsup and some veggie sticks, a V-8 (I really do love veggie juice), and a piece of fruit for desert. The kids love 'em, they're easy to prepare and the clean up is minimal. What a better way to spend a day than playing with your kids instead of cleaning up after a meal!

Go play! Have some fun.

Decadent, Frivolous, & Defiantly Feminine

2009-02-12T22:06:00.000-08:00

Yes, dear, there is a definite relationship between feeling loved, getting roses, and eating chocolate on Valentine's Day. If you haven't figured that out and you're a guy in a relationship, you're probably not going to be in one for long. EVEN if your lady says don't get me anything for Valentine's Day, you'd better do something special to remind her she's loved - BY YOU.

Guys go on the fritz all the time for not getting their lady something special on special days, and it's simply not acceptable for you to forget. It doesn't always have to be a whole dozen roses, or even a whole box of chocolates... But seriously, if you can't remember to get her something special, you don't deserve her. Even if you're FLAT BROKE without a dime to your name, you can STILL do something special for your lady.

And, when you DO get your girl something, don't come home and brag about how impressed the SALES LADY was with your generosity. It isn't the sales lady you're buying for - or is it?

Ladies want to be treated to special gifts, not just on special days, although - special days and special gifts need to be remembered - the most effective way of remembering your lady is to send her something outrageously decadent, frivolous and wonderful - just because. Your pickle won't fall off if you do something frivolous. Get the girl what she really wants, something that will remind her of those sweet little nothing gifts you gave her when you were dating. Way back when you were trying to win her heart - those things are important! Do them again.

Try a picnic at midnight under the stars on a warm summer night.

Get the kids all tucked into bed and have the basket prepared so all you have to do is grab a blanket and carry it out to the back yard. If you have done your gardening chores, you should have a nice private cove in the corner somewhere with a vine, some nice shrugs and enough cushy grass to have a picnic. Take a candle in a glass and enjoy the moonlight. You might get lucky and find there are fire flies lighting up your bushes.

If it's chilly outside, build a fire in the fireplace, or just light some candles around the room. Make it extra special, extra decadent, frivolous & defiantly feminine. Your lady will know you're thinking of her.

Ladies, just a little tip. If you've been hearing him talk about something special he wants, but hasn't gotten for himself yet, that's the exact thing you should get him for Valentine's Day. Go all out, take that extra step and give him something he won't EVER forget this Valentine's Day! You won't regret it!

One Day at a Time on the Third Rock from the Sun

2009-02-12T07:27:00.000-08:00

Most mornings, I rise to the sunlight happy to greet the day and ready for whatever comes my way. And most days, what comes my way is pretty good stuff. I have healthy kids, except for the one with chicken pox. I'm a healthy specimen of womanhood, except for the killer head-cold from hell. And life has been kind to me. I've been well blessed.

But some days, those moods catch up and the lows hang on. Life gets the best of you at dawn and you're not good for anything other than maybe sunset. This week has been that day.

This Charger-Mom lives in a trailer house about 6 months out of the year, most years. And this is one of those months. I have a strong "writer support network" and we email each other on a daily basis, for support, encouragement, and inspiration. Earlier this week, I started an email to the group and realized about half way into my tangent that I was on a real tare and stopped. I deleted the post and wrote instead,

"Perhaps I should return to bed and get up on the other side (the fact that I must go through a wall to get up won't matter much - in this mood, it probably won't even slow me down)."

Several have commented back, "I understand that thought." or "Gee what are you like on a bad day?" or "Let me know when it's safe, I'll come help rebuild the wall." and my very favorite, "Put the coffee on, I'll come rant with you."

The reality is, sometimes in these days of stress and strife, the frustration and stress build up and it has to go somewhere. As writers, we have the option of killing someone in a story (y'know you've done it), or blowing up a building, or writing a terrorist event in a screen play. Nobody really gets hurt. But what happens to those poor saps who aren't writers, who have those same feelings, how can they let out their rantings safely?

I'd suggest we get them all a journal to write in and the whole world ought to have a favorite pen. Perhaps everybody ought to have a blog. They don't have to be public. You can write a private blog if you like.

Better yet, write poetry and submit it to Poetry.com they'll publish your work and sell it back to you for mega big bucks! You won't make any money, but you'll be published.

Writing with Purpose - The Joy of Words from a Journaling Mom

2009-02-11T17:47:00.000-08:00

Journaling started for me about the time I learned to hold a pen. Those first spiral notebooks in the early sixties held my dreams, my sketches, and my paper-doll creations. Did you know if you draw the face above the top line, there's no blue lines across their anatomy? I could cover up the rest of the blue lines with striped clothing. Long sleeves if their arms hung down, or their arms rested between the lines horizontally. (Just in case you ever need to draw paper-dolls on lined paper.)

And, everyone knows, paper-dolls do "Pharaoh, Pharaoh" with hand motions in long sleeve striped body suits with colorful skirts.

But, you're probably wondering what that has to do with YOU. And you'd be right. There should be some use of this information for you as a Mom, reading my blog. Definitely, keep reading.

Probably the biggest issue I've had with my boys is getting them to WRITE. As a home school mom, I've struggled with a few "assignments", because kids just don't like assignments, but none so much as getting them to write. My oldest daughter started writing about the age of seven and hasn't really stopped yet. She's a stellar marketer, and absolutely stunning in her sales position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Marketing Friend has had an accident and can use our prayers, see Silver Linings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My next daughter didn't like writing "the usual things" but she loved blogging, writing in her forums, and sharing her opinions on such things as political candidates, teen pregnancy, abortion, parenting and education. She's currently using her many skills for work and promotion of her own business.

My oldest son hates writing, but he's creating a video game with characters that speak using a historical foundation. He's having to research his characters and the time frame to make them historically correct, and his writing skills are improving dramatically.

My youngest son is a published author working on more books. (He's only fourteen.)

If you're a home school mom, or even if you're not. These suggestions may come in handy for encouraging your children to write more. Paper-doll designs could come back eventually, too.

Your Impact Matters

2009-02-10T01:30:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, you just have to know that who you are has an effect on what you do.

When I first realized that my life counted for something more than just what I did, I was surprised. It just didn't seem like I'd had that great an impact on the world around me. But... As my children began to get older, I recognized tremblings of my impact on their lives.

My daughter is an awesome mom. She's got a perfect angel for a daughter, but sometimes... Lizzie (you'd never believe it) has a mind of her own. I watched as my daughter reprimanded her gently and shifted her attention to what Lizzie should be doing instead of what she wanted her to do. Lizzie followed directions well.

My next daughter reflects values I've lived my entire life. Her purpose and strength include family first commitments that empower and enrich her life. She's a treasure and at the same time, a mysterious adventure.

My boys, never interchangeable, often surprise me with their independence and struggles to be mature. I see the resistance in their teen aged hearts, and watch them strive for excellence. Then I watch them follow directions or ask my advice.

My impact has come full circle. I'm not alone. I have the power of a mother, and the backing of grown children. Life is good.

Your Impact Matters too. You've made a difference in someone's life and it has made you a better person. Click on over to Your Impact Matters and see if you can't get a Scandle Candle because you deserve to be pampered!

A Day in the Life of Charger-Mom

2009-02-04T10:28:00.000-08:00

You probably aren't too concerned about what happens in an average day of my life, but then... you might find it entertaining.

Waking up is usually my favorite part of the day. The glimmer of light that's peeking through my window is pre-dawn and I get to watch the sky color with light through my east windows. I'm a barefoot person, so I pad to the kitchen listening to the pity-patter of bare feet (I love that sound). With the tea pot turned on (or the coffee pot, whichever I choose for the morning) I disappear into the bathroom for a nice hot shower before everyone in the house arises for the day.

My daughter gave me this awesome body and bath gel that I love in the shower. It smells like primroses in full bloom.

Breakfast consists of wheat or rye toast with real butter, and fruit. I'm a fruit girl too. I love sliced apples on my peanut butter sandwiches. This morning, it was sliced banana - YUM!

My favorite morning tea is Earl Grey, so I had breakfast with Earl this morning at my computer. I wrote four articles, two for ezinearticles.com and one each for a couple of my blog sites. Just click on the link to my profile on ezinearticles.com to find my articles there.

I redesigned my blog header at Jan Verhoeff as a part of the new marketing project I've been working on. It's now a waterfall and I love the majestic presentation it gives. I'm manifesting my waterfall of prosperity!

After that, I reward myself. I love spending time with my "nature walker" so I do 30 minutes of hauling butt up the mountain on the treadmill with a view of Princeton before me and the world behind me, I can go fast! Of course, I'm always gearing up for the next project, so I came up with ideas of what to write on my blogs today (that's where this brilliant idea just came from).

I worked for a while on my term paper (I have three due in less than a week). I've been moving through my blogs, checking content and sending out info. Still have to work on the auto-responders today. Lot's to do...

Mom stopped by for some books from Amazon.com so I spent a while reviewing books with her and ordering, not ordering, ordering, not ordering, waiting until she checks the books at the library to decide if she wants to order them. Decisions!

I wrote three chapters on The Ruskin Adventures earlier --- I'm refocusing a book onto a different "feature character" and imparting his affliction on the story. Or not... It's hard to explain. I changed his name and made him a bigger part of the story - I may share part of the story here - later. I worked on editing some more of the same book.

Reviewed paperwork for a tax client. Prepared chili burritos for lunch with cheese and made a pot of coffee for me - I NEED CAFFEINE!

Janeen called about her website, Your Impact Matters, because someone said it wasn't working. It's working just fine and she's got a stellar give away on her site - go check it out!

My son is getting a reflexology treatment. I played Dr. Jan for a friend who wanted some natural cure information for her husband. And... I still have those term papers to write... So it's off to the keyboard (wait! that's where I am) to write some more.

And the afternoon lingers on...

Four Writers in a Yard Scene

2009-01-31T04:58:00.000-08:00

When the weather around southeastern Colorado clears for a day and the heat slips up the thermometer, writers often gather for a chore day at one or another home. We have a blast, focusing all our energy on the yards, trees and gardens of other writers - even in January.

At 65 degrees today, it was a great day for gardening. Even the Bouncing Betties were out in their full glory looking for sunshine out from under the compost.

The morning started with Danielle and I going out for breakfast at our favorite truck stop. Nothing is better than steak and eggs at a truck stop. Those truckers may know nothing but the road and the best greasy spoon cafes' but they've got a lock down on breakfast. I had a rib-eye steak, cheesy potatoes and two eggs staring me down with wheat toast and coffee that will tie your shoes and make your shoe leather stand up another winter. Nothing like a rib-eye to remind you what a real man eats for breakfast.

Danielle and I hustled over just about every topic known to man (or woman) and a few more besides, including those untouchables, religion and politics. (We disagree on both.) We got our whites and blacks confused, added color and called them both gray, then tugged at the judgment line and danced around the issue of Christianity and Jew-ism. As is typical, we tussled it all over until we were laughing at the differences in our differences, and named a few of our next books.

We discussed a series of books I've written and talked about the demise of the Grizzly in one of them. A Department of Wildlife Deputy is forced to track down a Grizzly bear whose fourth trip down the mountain reveals his lack of fear of man. The Grizzly has acquired a taste for trash and isn't afraid to enter a housing development to find the trash. The Department of Wildlife Deputy realizes the Grizzly is a real danger to people and his continued treks down the valley have left the deputy no choice but to end the danger. As he sits on a rock, resting from his long hours of tracking time the Grizzly joins him, standing up to his full seven foot height, he faces the deputy.

As the deputy leaves the scene with the Grizzly, he realizes the value and purpose of the friendship they've developed over the years. The deputy acknowledges the importance of the random elements of their friendship and the differences between man and bear including their value system. The reality, clear focus of lonely, long efforts of finding a life mate become clear in the face of their friendship. The beauty is the understanding between them, that no matter what happened, the two of them felt the kinship of lonely displacement. Absence of one of them encourages the other to pursue a relationship he's been avoiding because of the weight of commitment.

With yet another contract pending, this series is rife with purpose and reader value. Danielle and I have decided I won't wait on another contract, if this one fails. I'll self-publish.

I came home and worked for several hours, taking a moment here and there to work on our book (we'll both be writing it) and she focused on hauling compost.

Danielle Simone raked leaves single handedly for most of the morning until the rest of us dug in and started helping her. She'd managed to get the cart filled up a couple of times before we all got into the swing of things. Lunch consisted of Jr. Whoppers and ice cream cones. Danielle was part way through her ice cream cone when she started choking. I rushed her to the Emergency room to find out her throat was scratched really badly from some unknown source (probably whatever had choked her) and the common consensus was that she'd swallowed a piece of ice, probably frozen milk from the ice cream mix. She survived.

The event was an unnecessary reminder that life is too short to waste a moment. We returned home to find her husband slightly concerned (he hadn't heard the whole story) and my son waiting to be taxied to guitar lessons.

Oris George showed up just before sunset to help us move some limbs he wanted for his fire, and promised to come back today to help my son, Kenton, Don and Danielle, Sean and I chop down some trees and finish clearing out a yard that seems to have captured the attention of the City Code Inspectors for our tiny community.

Charge!

Community Service - Remember Quality

2009-01-28T09:28:00.000-08:00

Do you remember when you could play baseball in the street and the worst thing that could happen was a fly ball hitting Mr. Brumgarter's picture window? This week, I listened to a group of officers talk to young kids about how to be safe in their community, and they recommended they have an adult with them at all times when playing out in the community.

I'm appalled that our children must constantly worry about having an adult with them to be safe.

Whatever happened to being safe outside your own locked doors? Isn't there any place our children can play and feel safe?

At the end of my street, there's a park where my kids (now all teens and above) often go to play ball and hang out. The local police department has issued a warning that all kids should hang out in groups of two or more, to be safe. So, my boys take groups of friends to the ball field or park at the end of the street. Do I feel they're safe?

Yes, because the first house beside the park belongs to friends of mine who would not only call the police but most likely would take care of any problems before the police arrived. I feel confident enough of this that I personally have no problem walking to the park alone, even at night, sometimes. It's a nice walk from my house, and I enjoy the night air.

Recently, our police department has changed. Almost every officer is new in town, with few exceptions. What formerly was a tight knit group of people who were loved by the community, and well known in the community, is now a group of strangers not recognized. The difference is community distrust. Not only do the police officers distrust the community, but the community doesn't trust law enforcement.

Living in fear of my local community services isn't my idea of a quality life. I want more. I require more. And, I'm determined to have more. As a citizen in this community, I'm definitely focused on bringing back the safety and security, not to mention FREEDOM that I felt in my community as a child. I want my life back. How about you?

Quality of life means we're willing to Take Charge!

Cure for Frozen Bath Tub Drains

2009-01-27T09:54:00.000-08:00

Rock salt --- that same stuff you put on your sidewalks to melt the ice. A couple table spoons of rock salt down the drain and plung it. The ice goes away and you're all set for showers again.

Thought you'd like to know.

OMG, She's a Single Mom!

2009-01-27T08:10:00.000-08:00

I knew I was in trouble when I showed up wearing jeans. The other moms in the group wore pretty dresses, high heels and curly hair tied up in buns.

The first clue came when my kids piled out of the van, and just kept coming. I had my four kids, my sister's three kids, and two neighbor kids whose mom was busy working. We all home schooled, but I was the only one available for this trip. I was driving the "Jan Van." We had room for three more.

There were five vans in the line up, all had men drivers. Except the "Jan Van," it had me.

I got out, uncurled two strollers, a fanny pack and a picnic basket. My fourteen year old daughter corraled most of the kids. My niece and a neighbor girl ran for the overlook. I called, "Don't fall over!" as they passed me. We got the three youngest, two mine and a neighbor child in the strollers and determined who was pushing strollers before we all gathered on the overlook for a quick looksee, to see how far down it was to the next level.

We determined it would be a quiet "splat" from this distance. Nobody fell over.

We filled up two picnic tables for lunch. After a quick "Grace" from the leader, a pastor in a local church, everyone commenced to eating the food on their tables. The open air and early spring day made for hungry tummy monsters and everyone was ready for their ham and cheese, pickles and chips. The cookies we saved for later. But, we nibbled on fruit while kids chattered away the time, waiting on other kids to finish. I put the food back in the basket and the boys carried our basket back to the van.

The first part of the afternoon was spent walking along the river trail, at lodge height, a ways up the mountain. The group intermingled to some extent. I could pick my niece out of any part of the crowd. The shortest in her age group, she was also the most verbal. She pushed a stroller and carried a small fanny pack with supplies. My daughter pushed a stroller with another fanny pack. And, I carried the rear with a baby in a backpack and another fanny pack. We had juice, water bottles, and other necessities.

If other kids came up and wanted a juice box, we had plenty for everyone. We shared nicely and everyone had a good time.

After the first bend in the river, one mom stepped back and said, "My son didn't need juice, how much do I owe you?"

I said, "You owe me nothing, I brought extra." We kept walking along the path, strollers tangled up and the other kids helped us push (or carry them) through the underbrush. We kept walking. My five year old got tired and crawled in the stroller with his brother for a nap. We kept tromping through the underbrush, leaving little mark, other than wheel tracks in our wake.

The river walk was well known, hard packed, and easy to walk even with strollers. Although, I felt a bit sorry for the ladies in high heels, as I tromped along in my hiking boots. One lady kept stopping to dump the gravel from her open toed pumps, until she finally offered to just push a stroller, so she had something to lean on when she had to stop. My daughter gave up her stroller post reluctantly.

Teenaged girls in the group suffered similar trauma,with rough sticks and brush catching their legs as they walked along four and five wide. The path wasn't created for dresses and bare legs. By the time we arrived near the river where broad open and sandy beaches welcomed bare feet, the girls had lost their mommy-shoes and were threading bare feet through the cool sand.

The kids all wanted more juice and we opened a couple of boxes packed beneath a stroller, so everyone could have more drinks. My niece pulled out a couple bags of cookies to enjoy with the juice. There was plenty of murmering among the ranks, but laughter as plentiful and the kids were having a good time. As the sun began to sink behind the mountains, I noticed the ladies gathering up their things and packing them away in backpacks.

One gentleman walked over, "Jan, we're going up to get the vans, the girls don't want to walk back up the mountain. One of my boys can drive my van, if you'd like me to bring your van down."

Another glance at the group of tired kids and I handed over my keys.

I walked a ways with him, explaining about the loose baby seat in the back seat of the van. I hadn't put the belt back on and I was concerned it might come flying at the driver.

A bit away from the crowd, he stopped and asked if I was married. I said, "Nope, my ex left almost a year ago and I'm a single mom."

He said, "After this, perhaps you'd rather ride along with one of the other families, so you can dress more appropriately and enjoy a day without responsibility."

I glanced around at the other women in the group, suffering from sore feet, and answered, "No, I think I'd probably dress the same as I am now, and I don't mind driving. Thank you."

"Besides," I smiled at him, "Where would you put all my extras?"

"Well, they wouldn't be allowed to come." He answered, "We prefer our children come along only with parents. We don't intermingle without parents included."

"Oh," I realized for the first time that all the children, outside my troup were with their own parents and really hadn't been mingling much, except for my herd. My kids had all interspersed the rest of the crowd and found friends in each small group. "So, going together isn't a way of socializing?"

"Not really, we just got group rates." He answered, "It's better for the kids if they stay with their parents and don't get used to the way other families behave. We'd appreciate if you come along again, if you'd bring only your children and keep them together. It's difficult to control children when they get out of line."

I shivered involuntarily.

He ascended the mountain side with my keys in his hand and I went back to gather up my tired crowd of kids, ranging in age from 2 to 15. Nine kids, and I hadn't even had to reprimand a one of them during the entire day. We'd had fun, enjoyed meeting new people, and learned a lot about nature from the trail guide, when he actually had an opportunity to speak to us.

Minutes later, settled into the van, everyone back in their seat, I looked over my group of children and wondered at the values we'd all shared that day. We'd come on this adventure with the expectations of making new friends, getting to know other home schoolers in the area and enjoying a lesson in nature. I realized I'd introduced myself to most of the adults and some of the kids, but only one had actually given me his name. I knew one of the women from the home school phone tree, but this was our first meeting. Mark, the gentleman who had introduced himself to me, had offered to get my van.

"Go ahead and get in line, I'll follow you home." Mark had pulled up beside me.

"I'm not going home. I'm meeting other parents in the city." I answered, "We'll catch up with you on the next outing?" I offered in response.

"I'll have Mattie call you." He rolled up his window and pulled into traffic.

I waited a bit, giving the kids a moment to settle into their seats, checked the tires, and got behind the wheel. As I pulled out of the parking lot I realized how fiercely independent I suddenly felt. My cell phone jingled and I answered it before I started the van.

"We just got done. Do you have time to meet us for pizza at Peter Pipers?" I asked my friend who home schooled her own teenaged boys.

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes." She laughed, "Sounds like a lot of fun."

"I think it will be." I pulled the van into traffic and listened to kids cheering about a stop for pizza. We arrived at about the same time as my friend. We ordered pizza, played games, and chattered loudly in a small corner of the pizza place.

I learned a lesson. Sometimes, being with the group doesn't mean you're socializing and it's not always okay to participate with a group of people you don't know well, even when you share an interest. I sent a nice thank you note, along with kids notes to the home school group for the outing. I never got another call from Mattie, and we never missed outings with that home school group. There were always other groups, other events, and happenings where it didn't matter that I was a single mom with a herd of little ones learning about life and loving every minute.

Mom, I Think The Rug Used to Be Red

2009-01-27T07:02:00.000-08:00

Red is one of those kid friendly colors I always felt safe using as in home decor. It goes well with coolaide and Big Red soda pop. Seriously, there's not much you can do to red carpet that destroys the color.

When it came time to redecorate the bathroom a few months ago, the gold and white French decor had to go. Repainted with stark white walls, white cabinets and black and white pattern marble counters, black tub and toilet (I don't know WHERE the kids found these, but I liked them too) screamed for RED accents. You know, just a red rug, some red vases, red and black towels, maybe some red on the shower curtain. It worked, the bathroom is astounding.

The bathroom WAS astounding.

Not any more... The bathtub p-trap froze over night. We let the water run in the bathtub to keep the pipes from freezing. It seemed innocent enough. Then my son thought bleach would open up the pipes and let the clog drain through. It didn't work.

The tub overflowed and the red rugs got wet. The white tile is now pink. The red rug now has pink spots. I was just informed that REAL Boys don't use Pink Bathrooms.

Just wait until I toss those RED rugs in with their white shirts!