luvvlyjubblykiddos

a cheeky little blog

The Law of Attraction

The Law of Attraction.

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Holy Cow…I Won!

Holy Cow…I Won!.

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God Bless My Husband

I bask in the early morning quiet, breathing into my hot coffee through my nose, feeling the steam rise to meet my face.  I stand in the natural soft gray light coming in through my small kitchen window, watching the snow swirl left, then right, then straight up and down.  It’s dancing for me.  It knows how happy I am.  Gone are the ringing phones, hurried looks of co-workers, prep time for meetings and projects, make up and hair spray.  Gone are the worries, the ulcers, the headaches.  Gone are the sore feet and bad back.  Gone is the cold coffee sitting on my desk for hours before I get around to drinking it.  I am delighted to say goodbye to these.  Forever, is my hope.  I’m crying.  For I’m so blessed I cannot believe my luck.  My worries are few – what to fix for family dinners, how I can help with middle school homework and social pressures, balancing chores and babies.  All this I can easily handle.  All this, on my worst day, is one thousand times better than my best day working outside my home.  My success is measured in much more important achievements now – like teaching my babies how to talk and climb stairs and hold their own spoon.  And helping my older children get a snack that isn’t too unhealthy after school, and remember to finish their homework.  I have one earthly person to thank for making all of this possible, and I am forever in his debt.  He gives more than he knows by allowing me these simple pleasures and worries.  I watch him walk out into the swirling snow, leaving his home, with it’s quietness and warmth.  And say a silent prayer to God to protect him from harm and make his day as happy as mine.

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Moonlighting in Pendleton

by Jen Burk

 

Have you been to the annual Christmas in Pendleton Open House?  It’s such a treat!  We know you’ll just love it.  The day is packed with things to do, including a parade, pictures with Santa, lighting of the tree, special Kids Zone, the crowning of the Snow Queen, lots of food, and our favorite… SHOPPING!  The event takes place  Saturday, November 10, 2012 in Downtown Pendleton.  Moon Talk Designs will be at Gaia’s Herbals from 10 a.m. -3 p.m.  Be sure to stop by to say hi and sign up for our give-away!    Stores are open from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm, and vendor booths are open from 9:00 am to 4:00 pm.

 

A bit about Pendleton: 

Founded in 1820, Pendleton, Indiana is nestled along the banks of Fall Creek in Madison County. This historic community, with charming tree lined streets, is just 20 minutes northeast of Indianapolis.  Pendleton was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1991. Conveniently located at Exit 19, just off I-69, this community’s central location and hometown charm has made it a favorite destination for those who are looking for an interesting and unique shopping experience.

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Following the Rules

They say it takes 7 days to form a habit.  Or is that 7 weeks?  Or 7 months?  I’ve tried to start lots of things and done them for 7 days, or thought I did, without them becoming a habit.  The most recent “new thing” has been one of our new household rules.  All of my family members, including my husband, are notorious leave-behinders,  They get things out and forget to put them back.  They open drawers and don’t close them.  They take off shoes and socks and leave them wherever they land.  And me, being the dummy I am, walk around off and on during the day picking up and putting away. That is until a week ago, when I finally snapped.

I had picked up what felt like the 10th dirty sock of the day, after my children had come home from school and hubby had walked in the door from work.  I turned in one moment from being a pretty cool (or so I think) mom to a raving lunatic.  My children – all 4 of them – stood staring at me like my head had just popped off.  And as far as I was concerned, it had.  I remember ranting on about picking up one more sock and what it would do to me.  And that I worked hard all day and was NOT anyone’s slave.  And that if they couldn’t learn to pick up their things, all of those things would become mine, and eventually be given away or thrown in the trash.  Even as the words were leaving my mouth I realized it would take more mental effort and physical energy to keep track of all the many things than to just let it go.  But I couldn’t help myself.

I reminded everyone before they went to bed that evening that the next morning the new rule was in place.  Any and all items left out were to be picked up and put away before going to bed, or they would be confiscated.  I said it calmly but firmly.  And I stood my ground. For one entire day.

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The Moon’s Pull

My mother and father tell me that when I was a baby nothing would console me at night except to see the moon.  So, my dear dad would take me outside, regardless of the weather, and show me the moon before bed.  I’m sure, just like many of us are, I was attracted to the glow.  Even as an adult I am often transfixed momentarily when I see something glowing in the dark (picture my eyes darting from kid to kid on a 4th of July evening as they run around wearing those neon glow-in-the-dark necklaces).  But my feelings for the moon go beyond my obsession with all things shiny.

Once I became a parent, I wondered if my children would be as drawn to the moon as I was when I was a kid…and I was happy to find out they seem to be.  That could be due in part to the fact that I told them when they were little if they were good, the moon would follow us home from our after-dark outings and spend the night above our house, watching over them.  I think to this day they still believe that, or want to.

I can’t explain our family’s slight fascination with the moon, but it makes sense.  Ours isn’t the only group of “lunatics”.  For centuries, people of all cultures have delighted in the moon’s offerings, hunting by its light, writing songs and stories in tribute, and passing down tales of its magical powers.  Though modern man has become a bit less naive about folklore, and hunting for survival is much less popular, we are still admirers of the moon and her beauty.  Frank Zappa may have paid the ultimate tribute by naming his daughter after her.  Even I won’t go that far, but I do think it’s sorta cool.

There is just something magical about that big glowing disc in the sky.

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Becoming a Stay-At-Home-Mom

I just became a stay-home mom for the first time at age 45 after our twins arrived (that makes 4 children total). I have always wanted to be a Martha Stewart/hippy, and am slowing trying to embrace making things at home to save funds and give my children a better lifestyle. My biggest challenge is balancing household chores with baby time. I feel guilty if I’m not attending to the babes, and feel guilty when playing with babies, since it keeps me from doing laundry or sweeping. But it sure beats being away from home all day and having it all to do when I get home. My neighbors used to joke that I must have been kept in a dungeon because they never saw me when I was working outside the home full time. I would leave home at 7:30 to drop off the baby at daycare, drive 45 minutes to work, then slave away until 5:15, when I’d race to the parking garage in my high heels and drive like a mad woman, cursing the slow drivers who were going the speed limit, to arrive at daycare before they closed at 6 p..m. and left my little one on the sidewalk (not that they would ever do that – but they did charge $3 a minute after 6 p.m.).  Somehow I still managed to get my kiddos situated and check through the mail and make dinner and help with homework and get them bathed and in bed each night, all from 6 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. My husband was in there somewhere helping, though I don’t really remember it.  Everything was a blur, and I was working to get to the next task instead of enjoying my time with my children.

I rarely miss that period of my life, though I do have the daydream of what it would be like to wear make up and talk to grown ups and have lunch somewhere nice during the day.  I am still learning how to be a stay-home mom.  I don’t have a schedule for cleaning down pat yet – it seems that I clean in reaction to a mess right now, and maybe that’s what will continue to work best for us.  I haven’t yet tried to make my own laundry soap or applesauce, but have it on my list of to-dos, and will eventually tackle those extra things that lean toward a better lifestyle for my kids.  Meanwhile, I need to remind myself that I am giving my kiddos a better lifestyle, because I’m home.  My two older ones love having mom home when they get off the bus, and I’m here to help with homework and chore reminders before dinner.  I don’t know how we did it when I was working full-time, though God never gives you more than you can handle, and we moms always seem to rise to the occasion (dads, too!)

My next move towards a better lifestyle?  I just bought my first food processor.  It’s a mini, but hey, that’s ok.  My daughter was the first to use it, making her own smoothie from frozen yogurt and a splash of sugar-free/sodium-free/caffeine-free/carb-free soda.  Like I said, we are still moving towards becoming true “hippies”, but at least she’s eating frozen yogurt.  I cut my finger on the blade the next day while loading the dishwasher (yes, I still use the dishwasher).  I’m sure things will improve from here.  I’ll let you know how we progress.

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Bouquets of Newly Sharpened Pencils

Children everywhere have said goodbye to summer and are now back in school (some for a month or so by now).  When the summer sale ads start advertising school supplies, I am always reminded of a quote from one of my fave chick flicks, You’ve Got Mail.  Meg Ryan’s character is writing about back-to-school with her pen pal (aka Tom Hanks’ character), and says if she knew his name and address she’d send him a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils.  I just love the images that conjures.  I always romanticize about the return of school, with its yellow school buses and freshly laminated bulletin board hangings and new school shoes.  That is until I’m actually stuck at home, sitting cross-legged on the floor, getting a cramp in my hand as I repeat countless turns with the tiny manual sharpener to grind 24 No. 2 pencils to a point for each of my two older children.

“Why do they need so many pencils?” I ask myself.  As if I don’t know the answer (that they’ll either lose or break the point off all but two before the 3rd week of school has commenced).  Whatever happened to the old-fashioned slate board like Laura Ingalls used in Little House on the Prairie?  That was a pretty good idea, really.  It was green, for one thing.  Save the trees, I say.  Revert back to the slate.

Or, do away with writing all together.  Sound crazy?  Well, we are on our way…or at least Indiana is.  The Indiana State Department of Education has decided that teaching cursive writing is no longer a must.  Each school system can decide for themselves whether or not to continue teaching cursive writing, but given the option, I’d say many will choose to focus the time on teaching keyboarding skills instead.  I’m not sure what to think about this, really.  On the one hand, I understand that perhaps cursive writing is a bit archaic.  I mean who really sits down and writes sentence upon sentence by hand in cursive?  I don’t.  But on the other hand, the nostalgic part of me feels saddened by the thought of no one knowing how to write in cursive.  Like other lost arts, this too will no doubt one day go by the way of learning to speak Latin or how to sew.

So, by the time my children’s children are in school, they won’t need to turn many trees into paper and pencils.  Heck – people won’t even know how to write in cursive except to sign their name to a check (wait…will they even have those?)  Just like the paperweight (which obviously is now used primarily for decoration instead of function), all those pencil and pencil sharpener manufacturers will have to figure out something else to make.  Like robot house keepers and space ships.

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