09.27.06
Posted in Family Life at 11:26 am by Administrator
Four days, two airplanes and one head cold later, the prodigal author has returned to the comforting flock of her supportive family. Her homecoming was greeted with wails and jubilant cries.
Well, actually, as I was walking in the door, my son annoyed my daughter who then hauled off and punched my son. The ensuing wails coincided with my entrance and all I heard was “She hit me!” “He said shut up!” and they both went directly to their rooms, presumably to lick their wounds.
Welcome home, mom.
For a brief moment, I was tempted to turn tail and rush back to the airport. Surely the long security lines and overworked TSA Agents were preferable to screaming children. But the loving arms of my wonderful husband enveloped me and he said, “I’M glad you’re home. I missed you.”
Of course he missed me. Who wouldn’t miss The Mom when piercing cries were still showering down from above?
But soon, the wails subsided and the errant children came and sheepishly said sweet things like, “Mom, I’m glad you’re home. My brother is mean.” Visions of joyful reunions and happy homecomings continued to pop and burst in my mind, like bubbles out of a bubble maker. At least the dog had not left my side and was following me around, tongue hanging out, matching my every step. He at least was grateful for my return. He had no ulterior motives other than to lick my face and shower me with bad doggie breath.
But what, you say, about the conference?
In a word, fantastic. I not only learned vast amounts of ways to improve my craft, but I also got to spend the whole weekend with my dear friend and critique partner, Rita. We had a great time together and enjoyed the chance to meet lots of people. If I had taken my camera, you would see exactly who we hobnobbed with, but since I didn’t, alas, you will have to take my word for it.
I also had 2 separate editors/publishing houses request a proposal for my WIP (work in progress): The Bridal Party Series. I am frantically working to finish the manuscript so I can frantically work to create a proposal. Then I must find someone who is published and willing (for a fee, of course) to review the proposal and clean it up, make it tight, and put a pretty bow on it, with a piece of chocolate, for apparently the way to an editor’s heart is through chocolate (although I’m still not sure why, exactly).
In the meantime, the children have finally stopped punishing me for being gone and have given me the (belated) joyful reunion I so longed for, complete with multiple hugs and kisses and “I missed you so much” comments. My husband has cooked dinner every night since I’ve been home. Need I say more?
A resounding, collective sigh of relief has settled over this house. She’s back, they all say with smiles as they drift off to sleep. And she looks them over, lovingly and tenderly before dragging herself off like a slave to the computer.
She’s back, indeed.
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09.19.06
Posted in Family Life at 9:42 pm by Administrator
…and all through the house
Lynette is screaming and wailing
And throwing her mouse.
The children are nestled,
All snug in their beds,
Which is a good thing
‘Cause Mom might lose her head!
For tomorrow she leaves
On a journey so fair
To reach for her goals,
And not pull out her hair.
The ACFW Conference
Is but one short day away
She struggles for breviloquence
(Hey, not much rhymes with conference!)
And tries not to play.
The piano, it calls her.
Target does, too.
She writes silly poems
Better suited to a zoo.
Alas, she must focus
And write, write, write, write!
Or a swarm of mad locusts
Might swoop down and bite.
The clock, it is ticking
Loud and so fast
Yet nothing is clicking
So she thinks she will pass.
But no, Rita replies
Time will not wait
Sit down at your desk
And write ’til it’s late!
Heeding her words,
I sit here and stare
At an empty computer screen
And wonder what I should wear.
Perhaps when next I write
I will be almost published
And if not, then I’ll return
And try to get un-unpublished.
Signing off until after ACFW Conference 2006!
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09.12.06
Posted in Family Life at 7:10 am by Administrator
The school bus is new to us this year. My two children have always ridden to school in one car or another. I usually have had the, ahem, privilege of getting into my car, either in the morning or afternoon, and traipsing off to school to drop off or pick up my precious angels.
This year, the school bus stops literally outside my front door. I commented this morning to my husband that my only regret is that I have to actually be dressed to take my kids to the bus stop…PJ’s aren’t really fashionable bus stop attire. Especially not old mom’s PJ’s (as my daughter perceives it). However, as my husband so wisely pointed out, it is a small price to pay for the joy of walking out the door, putting my children on the bus and walking back inside, all within the space of approximately 3.5 minutes. It’s a beautiful thing.
My son, who is in first grade, was exceedingly overjoyed at the prospect of riding the bus this year. My daughter, to a lesser degree, was also thrilled. But for TJ, well, it has always been a lifelong dream to ride a bus to school. Now, think about it…how often do you get to witness the realization of a lifelong dream? Rarely, if ever, I’d say. For instance, I always wished to be a concert pianist. On a good day, I can play a stirring rendition of “Heart and Soul.” We’ll leave it at that.
But for kids, how cool is it to see something they’ve longed for repeatedly in their short lives come to fruition? For Molly, I think it will be when she can actually say, “I’m 16 now” as opposed to “I wish I were 16.” For TJ, it’s the bus.
Molly is ultimately too cool for school and often prefers to blow me a kiss instead of actual contact. I mean, seriously…how embarrassing!
On the other hand, TJ cannot leave the house, the street or get near the bus without a full body tackle hug. While the wonders of riding the bus are still new and exciting to him, he also faces it with a small amount of trepidation. He may be in first grade, but he’s still 7. He is a homebody and loves to do things with the family. So when he gets on the bus, it’s bittersweet. He’s heading away from home and mom (bitter), but he’s also riding the bus (sweet!).
And every day, the last words out of his mouth are, “Wave to me, Mom!”
Let me tell you, to this mother’s heart, the reaction for me is also bittersweet. I am happy they are heading to school, but I fear for them to be sad, lonely or afraid. I stand there, waving madly like a fool (and I think secretly, Molly is glad I wave to her, too. She just may never admit it), flapping my arms, blowing kisses and generally doing exactly what Molly fears: embarrassing my children. But hey, that’s what parents are for, right?
So when TJ says, “Wave to me, Mom!,” I must say, it is a beautiful thing.
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07.12.06
Posted in Family Life, Uncategorized at 10:38 am by Administrator
Who knew a friendly trip to the bookstore could turn so ugly?
Bookstores are at the top of my list of “happy places.” I can be in a going-postal, sailor-swearing, fire breathing foul mood when I park my car outside of the store, but the moment I cross the threshold, I swear I can hear angels singing, birds chirping and a gentle, calming breeze lathes my face. Ahhh.
Unfortunately, it also houses small arms weaponry which my son availed himself of yesterday.
In the corner of the children’s section, there is a table with a Thomas the Tank Engine train track set up, complete with various trains and accessories. TJ was determined to build the longest stretch of trains known to man…or at least to all the little boys at the table at that time.
Enter Molly (his sister).
She is a delicate flower. An angel girl. She doesn’t see a gaggle of boys and think, “Must show who is boss. Kill! Kill! Kill!” No. She thinks, “Hey, a group of boys. They must be in need of organization, direction and not a little bit of feminine input. I’ll just help them out and soon they’ll be showering me with praise and adoration for my insight and intellect!”
The end result? A train (the small arms weaponry) was launched (by my son) at the appropriate target (my daughter) and scored a direct hit (her head). All I can say is, thank goodness they kept the battle within the family ranks. Needless to say, we left immediately thereafter.
On the way home, I informed my son of the type of punishment he would receive when we got to our abode. My daughter, always the ever vigilant one when it comes to fairness and equality, felt that she should receive the punishment too. When I asked her why this was the case, she suddenly decided she had hit her brother back. Once. No wait, five times. So hence, she deserved the punishment as well.
Determined not to let this lesson go by, I insisted that not all things are created equal and she would not, in fact, be receiving punishment. It may be the first time in the history of mankind that a parent yelled, “When we get home you are NOT getting a spanking and that’s final! I don’t want to hear another word about it!”
However, this did not go well and before the short ride was terminated, my daughter managed to drum up all sorts of invectives in her creative, if nothing else, attempts to secure said punishment.
So in my great motherly wisdom (new mothers pay careful attention here, for this is important), I pronounced, “Fine. You will get your mouth washed out with soap instead!” So there. Pffft. (Imagine my tongue sticking out and a not so lady like noise issuing forth).
We got home and my daughter insisted her punishment be enacted immediately. I did not relish the thought of such an encounter so I did the only thing I could. I punted.
“We’ll do it when your father gets home.” So there, again.
This did not meet with my daughter’s approval and her “fairness meter” was dropping to dangerously low levels. I, however, did not give in. I tuned out her pleading, ranting and raving and simply let the issue go. At last, she was quiet. I breathed deeply, enjoying the fruits of my successful mothering skills. Until my son enlightened me. Peering cautiously around the corner, he whispered and alas, the enlightenment began.
“Mom! Molly is sitting outside her door with a bar of soap in her mouth!”
Blank. That is exactly how I felt at his words. Blank.
“What?” At last, my voice seemed to have arrived, albeit tardy, to the conversation.
“She’s just sitting there. With a bar of soap sticking out of her mouth!”
And as if by magic, he produced the object of our discussion. There she stood in all her glory, proudly displaying a full bar of soap, turning this way and that so I could see it from every vantage point.
I was furious. And as I informed her in my most steely, mama-is-PISSED voice, “get back to your room!” I reached for the phone to call my husband. Someone was going to pay for this outrage. I don’t know who or why but it just felt good to think that. And unfortunately, the next thought was to dial my husband’s number. Go figure. Anyway, as I told him what was going on, he began to chuckle, then he laughed and before the story was finished, it was an outright guffaw.
Why was he laughing? This was serious business! Our daughter was punishing HERSELF! As he was wiping the tears from his eyes (well, I imagined that part but it adds great depth to the story), he said the one thing I did not want to hear.
“You have got to write this story down. This is one of the best kids stories ever!”
I could not go near a computer at that moment. I was not certain my innocent computer would not suffer mightily at my shaking hands. Deep down, however, I knew he had a point. So a day has passed and all is well in the Snell battleground. And as I sit here writing this, I too am chuckling with laughter at the memory.
From my own vantage point, it seemed as if my daughter and I were both fighting to stay on top of the soap box.
The jury is still out on who won.
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05.18.06
Posted in Family Life, Me at 4:11 am by Administrator
Well, at the very least we have a solid contract on our house. We bought a house up north and now we are preparing to move. Hard to believe but once we listed our house with an agent, it sold in less than 10 days. And our market is exceptionally weird right now. We are very lucky to be moving out of Florida to a state that isn’t like Florida at all. Because right now in Florida it is an unrealistic market. So many houses have inflated prices. Last year, things were selling for close to a million bucks that a mere 18 months earlier would have sold for half that price (or less). It’s weird and no one has really given a good explanation for why it happened. Then everyone in Florida got greedy (hard to blame anyone) and started slapping their homes up for sale. Where before there were a few out of control priced homes on the market, now there is a glut of out of control priced homes for sale. We are really blessed to have sold our home so quickly.
I can’t fathom how people are surviving buying houses that are so expensive when they are coming in from other states where the market is, well, normal. Our friends from Dallas were in total sticker shock when they moved back here. They had no idea the prices had so drastically increased in the 3 years since they moved. They’re used to it now and are hoping their contract finalizes in a week or so and then they too will be moving out of limbo-land into happy land.
If all goes well, we will be settled in our new home before Father’s Day. Here’s a picture of our new place. Now that we’ve sold our house, I’m really starting to get a bit excited.
The people who bought our house here are also fantastic and it is just amazing to me that no matter how much I screw up as a believer, no matter how little I seek God’s direction in my life, no matter how much I think I can take care of business on my own, God just keeps on working and doing His thing. I’m just this bystander, or better yet, hanger on. I have this image in my mind of a Very Large Man playing chess, moving pieces accordingly, and winning every time. I’m a spec of dust on one of those pieces. And all I can see is the little square that my piece is sitting upon. Good thing God sees it all. I’d never make it out of square one if things were truly left up to me.
And in the meantime, our house is sold.
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