I pledge...

to use a kinder voice with my family so that my children will learn to be kind to others.

I pledge to support Hearts and Hands International's Water is Life program, so that children around the world will have the clean water needed to sustain their lives and the Living Water needed to give them eternal life.

I pledge to follow the actions of my President by regularly reading the White House website. I pledge to be an informed citizen. I pledge to make my voice heard when my government does not speak for me, and I pledge to applaud when it does.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgnAz7A_i0s

What do you pledge?

Friday Nights

My grandfather used to call my brother and me every Friday and say, "Is it Friday yet?" This was code for, "Can you come over to spend the night?"

Friday nights at my grandparents house are one of my fondest childhood memories. As I age, I don't remember specifically what we did as much as I just remember being with them. I do remember playing games like Flinch and Wahoo. (I'm so old that these games are now known as Skip-bo and Aggravation.) The computer was a novelty, and my brother and I spent hours playing M.U.L.E. I remember my grandparents watching Mystery! and Masterpiece Theater on PBS and wondering how they could stand to watch something so boring. I mean, in my mind, the only public television worth watching aired in the mornings. (I now LOVE both Mystery! and Masterpiece: Prime Suspect, the Linley Mysteries, Agatha Christie, Poirot, Jane Austen.) And Hee Haw . . . well, don't get me started! That was just pure torture!

Saturday mornings, Grandfather made breakfast, which usually consisted of either waffles or pancakes. These were not your average, boring breakfasts. They always had a "surprise" inside - nuts, chocolate chips, blueberries, or bananas.

In the spring, we had to help in the garden, which I absolutely dreaded. In the summer, we would play in the sprinkler to keep cool (no swimsuit required - just underwear). In the fall, we would attend Bulldog football games. And in the winter, we would always have a roaring fire in the fireplace.

TGIF was reality for me because I waited all week for these overnight visits. Now I realize that my parents probably enjoyed them more than we did. They had a standing Friday night date!

My precious angel

Baby A

Okay, so this is how I will always remember my little angel,

despite the big teenage demon she may become in just a few short years.

A Barnes & Noble aside

While at work Sunday night, as I rounded the corner by the Science Fiction books, I overheard a father speaking to his 4-year-old son. The child had a paperback in his hands and was listening intently to his dad.

" . . . then after they defeated the republic, they started a Jedi academy . . . "

The circus is in town

I love the circus. The clowns, the animals, the costumes, the lights, the music, the acrobatics, the hooplah. No matter my age, the circus is a wonder. It leaves me on a high for days. The memories remain for a lifetime. Every time the circus comes to town, I want to see it again. To experience the magic once more. See different clowns, different animals, different costumes, different lights, different music, different acrobatics, different hooplah.

I like that the circus is only two hours long. I wouldn't go if I had to listen to two weeks of "Entrance of the Gladiators".

Well, the media circus is back in town. The clowns are funnier. Animals perform different tricks. The costumes are glitzier. The lights are brighter. They've added more music. The acrobats no longer have a net. But the hooplah . . . it's just too much. It's been one week already, and yet the ringmaster still hasn't begun with "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages..." We're still watching the pre-circus. And after the real circus is over, there will be another week of post-circus. I don't think I can't stand it. And yet I can't seem to escape it. If I hear that big top music one more time, I think I will scream!

I went to the last two circuses. I didn't want to miss them. All my friends were going. But I skipped the pre-circus and the post-circus. I really didn't need someone to tell me what I was going to see and then analyze every flip, roar, and laugh after it was over. I have a circus program for that.

I like the circus. Really, I do. So, tomorrow, I hope I make it to my seat just in time to hear the ringmaster say, "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." That is the best part. The historic event. The center ring.

Hormones or just a bad attitude?

Does puberty begin at 11 now? I can't quite figure out if my almost-11YO, A, has new hormones coursing through her body or has picked up her lousy attitude from her environment. Could it be public school or television shows?

Either way, she is morphing into something I don't like. Decisions she doesn't like are met with eyes rolling or a "But...!" She gets angry about things which are beyond her control and crosses her arms in a huff.

Sound normal? Not for my little angel. No, really. She has always been good-natured, kind, helpful, happy, and mild-mannered. She rarely suffers consequences because she rarely chooses wrong. The only exception being how she acts and speaks to her brother, so she does get into trouble for that. But then, he annoys the crap out of her.

Cold

I loathe the cold. How can anyone live in weather like this and be happy? It is miserable. Through the years, I have become more warm natured, but once cold, I cannot warm up. I get chilled to the bone. No matter how many layers of clothes I wear on the outside, my internal organs will just not warm up.

I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to do anything. I want to sit on my couch, fire crackling in the fireplace, with my hot chocolate and a quilt. I want to watch movies and read books. Who, in their right mind, wants to open the front door and step onto the porch to face the wind, which puts even more of a chill in the air? Even my car complains about moving from the driveway.

And, even worse, this will be any inside day at school.

Rewriting the hymnal

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.
—Edward Mote (1797-1874)

"Mommy, what's STINKING sand?"
-C, my son

Loss of a friend

A friend of mine died. I haven't seen her in over 6 years. We knew each other from the softball field. Every spring, we played together for an hour a week.

I didn't even know she was sick. Some friend, huh? And, yet, when I was sad, my husband (Super D) couldn't figure out why. I guess men don't develop or maintain bonds like women do. We could go a lifetime without seeing a friend and still show emotion at the news of their marriage, birth of a child, or death.

So now, if I want to the go to the memorial service, will he think I am crazy? Probably.

A Sooner loss

I'm less upset that the Sooners lost the championship, than I am about staying up late to see them lose. My sleep is much more precious to me.

I can't believe I let my children stay up for that! My daughter will be wasted today at school. Fortunately, my son can skip daycare this morning as he and his dad sleep in on David's day off. Is there a loser mom trophy?

Uneventful

Is my life that boring that I have absolutely nothing to say in a blog?

Actually, work is fascinating, but confidentiality keeps me from being able to discuss it in detail. I'll just say that my work is fulfilling, yet frustrating at the same time. My heart aches for these kids. I long to help them. But rules hinder us from doing the very things I think will help them.

I am reminded of Helen Keller. Anne Sullivan's methods seemed foreign and even harsh to Helen's parents, but Anne loved that girl and wanted her to learn. It took only one month of doing things Anne's way before Helen's behavior began to change and her progress took off.

What progress would occur if we were allowed to really help our kids?

Sleepy

I don't remember the alarm going off the first time. Or the second. By the time my brain woke up, my only two choices were - exercise or shower. No time for both.

Done. Decision made. The world can thank me later. When they wake up.

Minutes later...

Mission accomplished! Although my legs were protesting just two minutes into my workout. Is that pathetic, or what?

To walk, or not to walk...

I'm up. I love mornings, but I hate wasting even a part of them on exercise.

My inner voice debates itself. "You don't have to do this today." "We said we would walk." "But why today? How about tomorrow?" "You're up anyway. Why not today?"

The guilt will triumph today. That hot chocolate I just drank is laughing at me.

Resolutions

I'm blogging. I'm FLYing. Yesterday I rode bikes with A. Tomorrow begins the real exercise. I won't be so ambitious to think that I can do aerobics. I think I will begin with a walking routine. Harmless enough.

Irony

Irony is remembering to blog when you have nothing interesting to say.

So instead of text, here's a picture to enjoy:

C the Cowboy

Happy New Year

I resolve to maintain a blog.

I always wanted to keep a journal. In fact I kept many. All of them are unfinished. Writing doesn't come easily, and I don't remember to do it.

Maybe this will be my year.

I will keep it short - no long commentaries. Anecdotes of my children. Random thoughts. Notable events. Favorite pictures.

I am afraid of failure.