Tuesday, January 29, 2008


Quotable Quotes by Connor

"Dad, you gotta start livin' it and stop sweatin' it." No idea where this came from.

"Mom, this will freak your brains out." Talking about a plastic toy bug.

"Mom, you feel like stuffing." Ouch! Weight Watchers - where do I sign up?


Guy Stuff

This video had my husband doubled over in laughter. He watched it five times in a row before he made me sit down and view it. Still he laughed.


Just Give it To Me

I'm sure some of you have already seen this music video by Jason Mraz. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this song. It totally sucks that he doesn't have it recorded on any of his albums! Come ON! What's he trying to do? It feels a little like musical foreplay. Like he's just toying with us. Just give it to me already! I want this song on my iTunes, on my iPod! He's already made it a hit on YouTube. Check it out, if you haven't already. Oh, and somebody pointed out that he's playing with some kind of sling or cast on one arm. Amazing!


The Way to His Heart

I have found the way to my son's heart. Not so surprisingly, it isn't in the pizza I slave over or the owies I kiss better. Nope. It's much simpler, more basic than that. Here's how the conversation went.

"Hey, bud. How was your day at school?"

"Pretty good. Well, this one thing happened."

"Oh? What?"

"Well, two of my friends started fighting with the older kids on the hill. I decided to just go find other friends to play with because I knew it was wrong."

Insert proud mommy moment here.

"That's good. You can still be their friend, but I'm glad you walked away."

"Yeah. Hey, you know my friend, Josh, can make fake farting sounds. Like, it sounds like he farts, but it's not real."

Switching tracks. "Oh, how does he do that?"

"I'm not really sure. Just kinda like ..." and he tries to make a fart sound with his mouth and throat.

"Hmmm. Like this?" And I show him my special abilities.

"Wow!" His eyes go saucer round and fill with hero worship. Suddenly I'm cool and I'm Super Mom "How'd you DO that?"

So, I showed him. And became #1 Mom in his eyes. To think it was so simple all along.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Author Cheryl Wyatt & A Soldier's Promise

"My name's Bradley. I'm eight and have cancer. I want to meet a Special Forces soldier more than anything. Well, almost anything. Having a family would be nice."

U.S. Air Force pararescue jumper Joel Montgomery promised to make a sick child's wish come true. Well, not the family part—not with Joel's past. And so despite vowing never to set foot back in Refuge, Illinois, Joel parachuted onto the boy's school lawn to a huge smile. But another smile unexpectedly stole Joel's heart: that of Bradley's beautiful teacher, Amber Stanton, who was trying to adopt the boy. And trying to show Joel it was time for new vows.

AUTHOR BIO: Cheryl Wyatt's closest friends would never dream the mayhem she plots during announcements at church. An RN-turned-SAHM, joyful chaos rules her home and she delights in the stealth moments God gives her to write. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. She's convinced that having been born on a Naval base on Valentine's Day destined her to write military romance.

Prior to publication, Cheryl took courses through Christian Writers Guild. An active member of RWA, FHL and ACFW, she won numerous awards with multiple manuscripts. Visit her on the Web at www.CherylWyatt.com. Sign up for her newsletter for news and chances to enter contests with great prizes. Hang with her on the web at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com. You can also find her skittering around Steeple Hill's message boards as "Squirl" at http://www.steeplehill.com/.
LINK TO PURCHASE MY BOOK: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0373874669

It is my privilege today to be a stop along the way in Cheryl Wyatt's blog tour. Her debut novel "A Soldier's Promise" hit the shelves the beginning of January 2008. It is the first book in her Wings of Refuge series. To see my review of the book, click here.

As a special treat, Cheryl agreed to answer a few questions regarding her book, her life and being a writer. Anyone who comments on today's post will be entered into a draw to win a FREE copy of A Soldier's Promise. The contest will run for one week and I'll email the winner to get their mailing address, so please leave a working email address.

How do you take your coffee?

Um, I actually take a little bit of coffee with my cream. LOL! I like it creamy to the point it is light tan in color and two tsp of sugar.

If you could choose one dessert to enjoy with your coffee, what would it be?

PECAN SPINWHEELS bay-bee! Of course, if there's still coffee to dip after that...break out the Krispy Kremes with chocolate icing. LOL!

Now that that’s out of the way, on the topic of writing, when did you know you wanted to be a writer? Was there a specific moment or event where you realized this was what God had called you to do?

I've wanted to write since I could hold a crayon. But it wasn't until I ended up on bedrest with preterm labor and a high-risk pregnancy that I started to write romance fiction. I'd scribbled stuff in notebooks prior but not until I was grounded did it launch fully. At the time, I just thought maybe God was granting me the stories in order to combat fear of losing the baby. That or to keep me from suffering death-by-boredom. LOL!

Tell us a little bit about the inspiration behind the story, A Soldier’s Promise. What are the themes within the story you would like readers to grasp? Are there any themes which developed as the story went along that were a surprise to you?

The theme in A Soldier's Promise was sparked by an understanding of how, when we make self-imposed vows, that can sometimes cause us to go in an opposite direction than God intends, and, if we don't let Him break those vows, we could miss out on blessings He has for us.

What I didn't realize until the book was in line edit stage was that I'd somehow, not even consciously, embedded profound remembrance of times God has made promises to me. I want others to realize God keeps His promises. Whatever I'm facing in life, a hard season, or a joyous one, I always ask God for a promise. I was thrilled when I learned that marketing picked up on the promise theme and retitled my book A Soldier's Promise. Much better title than what I'd come up with. LOL!

I would like readers to grasp that in any given situation, God will often give us promises. Promises that we can cling to and trust, even when they look completely opposite of our circumstances. I would also love if they knew that God doesn't mind reminding us of things He's told us...promises He's made.

The promise theme really surprised me because I really couldn't pinpoint what it was until they gave me that title idea. I didn't set out to make that be a central theme, but that's probably the main takeaway value of the book.

How do you come up with your characters and their names?

I get names in different ways. I have lists of first and last names that I'm always adding to. Then I switch up the names, meaning I always try to make sure I don't use the name of someone I know or that I've met before. I like at least one character to have a unique, meaningful name. I've gotten name ideas from the obits, from waitresses' name tags, baby name books, even from my spam folder. LOL! Where ever I see an unusual name, I jot it down.

How much planning and mapping out of a story do you do? Do you prefer to write and see where the story and its characters take you, or do you plan out each chapter and write with a strict guideline?

I plan out my characters in great depth. I know everything about them inside and out. Everything about their pasts even. I know things that my readers will never need to know. Things that help me keep them consistent through the book. I like to have an idea of my major disasters and a loose scene index before I begin. I'm not strict as I'm sort of in between a plotter and a panster. I've tried to be strict but my characters never obey the plots I set out before them anyway, so it's useless for me to try. I really love to retaliate by ramping their conflict and constantly upping tension. LOL!

How much time do you spend on research for each book?

I spend way more time on research than I ever use for the book. Suffice it to say, I usually research a series for years before I write it. And I go to extreme measures to research. I wanted to sign up for a tandem skydiving jump in fact, so I could write from personal experience since these PJs are basically Special Forces skydiving paramedics and rescuers. But I found out I was pregnant and couldn't. LOL! I did travel to a different continent to research my SEAL series, which I hope to start contracting after we run through the PJ series.

What does “A Day in the Life of Cheryl Wyatt” typically look like?

Carry out Assault and Battery of the alarm clock first thing in the morning because I am NOT a morning person. Having worked midnights for nearly 20 years, I have the hardest time waking up before eight. I hate it. But I have a brigade of human alarm clocks in the house. My body wakes up at six am. I stagger in the kitchen at six thirty after exercising and praying. Then my brain wakes up at seven while I fix breakfast. Get alarm clocks off to school, then start writing by nine. Write until two then get ready for the after-school invasion. "Write" entails checking e-mails, doing research, answering reader letters, etc. When I'm pouring out the rough draft though, I write at night when everyone is asleep because I really am more productive at night. If my husband is gracious enough to take the troop to school, as he often is...then I stay up late, until about midnight to two, and wake up an hour or two around eight, get up at nine. That is my most productive schedule. I'm toast if I don't enough sleep and very strange things come out of my keyboard when I'm sleep deprived. LOL!

What is the one promise or scripture that keeps you going when faced with discouragement or challenges?

It is hard to think of just one scripture, because often when He gives me a promise about a circumstance, part of it involves a passage from His written word.

The one main promise that keeps me going is that I know He promised that my entire family would be saved. I know most of the time when God makes me a promise, it doesn't come to pass for about 2-15 years. It's been twenty years since God has made me the promise but I believe no matter how long it takes. If he has to spare their lives until they live to be 120 years old, they won't die without knowing Him. That is the most precious and profound thing in my life, and in light of that, nothing else matters. Who couldn't run hard after a God like that? He is the kindest person I know.

Thank you, Cheryl, for the interview. Remember, the contest to win a FREE copy of Cheryl Wyatt's book will run until next Saturday.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

For King Julian

“Is it time?” the little angel asked.

“Not yet,” soothed the voice, “patience.”

The angel sat, chin in his chubby hands, and waited and watched. He saw day turn to night and night turn to day. Still he waited.

Days, weeks and months passed by while the little angel watched from above. And then it happened. Dawn began to brighten the sky and the angel could feel the excitement, a stirring on the golden streets. Could this be the day?

“Alright little one, it’s time. We’re ready. Bring him home.”

The angel sped to earth, the gift firmly in his grasp. He descended to the side of a warrior, a prince, a king. “Who’re you?” asked the boy.

“I’m an angel,” he replied. “I’ve come to bring you home.”

The boy stared in wonder. “You have wings. Real ones.”

“Yup. Father wants us home. Ready?”

The little boy looked to the bed where his mother laid, tears on her cheeks, holding his hand. “What about my mom? I can’t leave her. She’ll be sad and she’ll miss me.”

The little angel pondered this a moment. “But He’ll turn their mourning into joy. He will comfort them and give them joy for their sorrow.”

The boy thought for a minute. “I don’t know. She loves me an awful lot. All the way to China.”

“I love you, Munchkin. It’s gonna be okay. I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

They stopped to listen, her words carrying in the still of the room.

“We’ll be okay. Cody and Jacob are waiting for you. Say ‘hi’ to Jesus for me. You won’t hurt anymore, so be sure to run and play. Goodnight, baby. I love you.”

The boy watched as his mother reached out and laid a hand on his chest. He felt the warmth spread inside and the heat of love settle in his heart. The pain melted away.

“These are for you.” The angel handed the boy his gift and waited as he unwrapped the bow.

“My own set of wings?” he asked in awe.

“Uh-huh. Bright yellow ones, ‘cause that’s your favorite color. Now you can chase the sunshine.”

The boy slipped the wings on and waited. “How do they work?”

“You gotta listen and let go.” The boy stood still and waited.

“Come home, son. I’m waiting.”

He felt the wings begin to flutter, the anticipation of returning home. He looked one last time towards his mother.

“Fly high, ‘lil man.”

And he did.

For King Julian, 4, who won his battle with cancer and earned his wings Saturday, Jan. 19, 2008. And for his parents who talked him straight into the arms of Jesus.

Thank you for sharing your precious boy with the world. He touched many hearts and changed many lives.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

I Hate This

They said it would get easier.

They said I would get used to it.

They said I would love it.

They said it's great.

They are SO wrong!

I hate school. Every day Connor walks out the door I feel like a huge hand reaches into my chest and squeezes until all the breath has left my body. I watch from my living room window, feeling like the worst mom for making him walk all the way to school. A block and a half. Through all the snow. Up hill both ways.

My stomach does sommersaults and crunches until 3:15 when I again glue myself to the window and count every step until he is safely inside the house. Yes, I can see him from my window. Yes, I stand there and watch him walk the whole way home. And yes, I have gotten out my hubby's binoculars and watched him like the crazy person I am. Holding my breath while I scan the streets for any suspicious looking vehicles.

So far I haven't been reported and no police have shown up on my doorstep questioning me about my behavior and my whereabouts the day before.

I was told it would get easier, but that doesn't seem to be happening. Instead I am having horrible nightmares of next fall when I will have to endure this EVERY DAY! With Benen tagging along every second day. Oy!

Hang on. There's a suspicious looking man walking by outside. Yes, he's walking a dog, but that could be his cover. He's stopping to stare at the house two doors down. Hmmm. His face is covered and I can't get a good look. Disguise? Or the fact it's below zero with a wind chill that would freeze your eyes in their sockets?

He's moving on .... passing my window .... don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact .... he's gone. For now.

Hey, I read a lot of suspense/mystery. I know what can happen.

Oooh, I think I need some Tums. And I'm gonna put the local PD on my speed dial. You can never be too prepared.

BTW, be on the lookout for a man walking a tiny tan-and-white pomeranian. Tallish, thin, wearing jeans and a winter coat, face mostly covered and wearing brown leather work gloves. I'm just saying, is all.

Monday, January 21, 2008

The Strangest Thing

I saw the weirdest thing today at the doctor's office. No, not some freaky person with three eyes or a nasty, flaky disease. Nope. This was a little girl going out of control.

This, in itself, isn't that unusual. I'm pretty much used to seeing kids be out of control, whining, screaming, yelling and hitting their parents. Sadly, I see more parents who don't parent, than ones who do. Respect is something young kids aren't being taught and it shows in the way they act out with complete disregard to those around them. Can you tell this is a pet peeve of mine?

Anyways, this little girl couldn't have been more than two-and-a-half. The mother had zero control over her child and the little girl proceeded to wander all over the waiting room. Again, not something particularly surprising. What did surprise me was when the girl - we'll call her Susie - disappeared through the doorway into the area that housed the nurses station, offices and patient rooms. Gone. I mean, you could not see her at all. And the mother just sat there. Did. Nothing.

I kept thinking, the nurses don't get paid to babysit, and wondered how long until the mother decided to fetch sweet Susie. Catch the sarcasm?

Finally, she got up and went in search of her daughter. Moments later she comes out the doorway ushering a loudly complaining and whining little girl. You could tell she didn't dare pick her up. Well, Susie would not stand for this obstacle in her way. She let out a shrieking whine. "Don puss me!" And the mother backed off.

At one point, the little girl dug through her mother's purse, lifted a twenty dollar bill and took off. The mother tried coaxing and begging the little girl to come back and bring the money, but darling daughter would not behave. Secretly, I was hoping she'd bestow that twenty on me.

No luck. I think the mother was nearing her limit. She got up, retrieved Susie, replaced the bill and proceeded to try and hold a thrashing, whining, arching Susie on her lap. Got to teach her a lesson, you know?

Up to this point I was annoyed, but not shocked. Just your basic kids-run-the-home-and-parents situation. But here's what made my jaw drop.

There was a young, pleasantly quiet boy of about nine years who, I thought, had the misfortune of being sweet Susie's big brother. Turns out he stirs the pot. While his mother was trying to hold the thrashing Susie her son jumps into the argument.

"Mom, just let her down."

"No. I need her to learn that she can't always get her way."

"Oh, just put her down. I'll watch her."

Yeah, my jaw hit the floor. An older brother volunteering to watch and trail after his spoiled sister as she wreaks havoc on the waiting room and its innocent masses?!

AND THE MOTHER LISTENED! She obeyed the command of her young son to stop disciplining Susie and let her have her way. Wow! I don't think I have ever come across a situation where the older sibling, particularly a brother, spoils his younger siblings in quite this manner. Shocking, is what it was.

And he followed through. He got up to fetch Susie when she wandered from the room to the elevators. Huh. I thought I had seen it all, but this was something entirely new to me.

Makes me shudder to think what she'll be like when she's a teenager.

And yes, I know this isn't a very nice post. But that's what you get when I don't get my sleep. Sarcasm and snarkiness.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Big Moments

So there you have it. A big day in the life of a kid. He lost his first tooth yesterday. His Grandpa yanked it out for him after mom and dad's many failed attempts.

I realized something last night. I make a lousy Tooth Fairy. I forgot to put the money under his pillow and he woke up sobbing at 2:30 a.m. I sat up in bed, looked at the clock and went, "Oh NO! Chad wake up!"

Like the bad fairy I am, I made him get up and settle Connor down. Once he was back to sleep, I gave Chad the money to slip under his pillow.

The good thing was he didn't realize I had forgotten. He woke up because his eye was sore (no idea why) and he never thought to peek. So this morning when he finally did look, there was a nice, shiny coin lying in wait. He came bounding into my bedroom, excited and thanking me and saying how wonderful I was.

Being the honest, good person that I am, I looked at him and said, "Thank you." Hey, I'll take what I can get.

Friday, January 11, 2008


Okay, I know that's a very uninspired title, but it's the best I can come up with after a week of little sleep and sick kids. I've been wanting to post some pictures of what it looks like where I live, but when I tried to take a few, they didn't turn out. Thankfully, my Grandma's husband is a fabulous photographer (at least I think so) and he gave me permission to use some of his work on my blog. This is for you, Deb.

Photography by Ron Mack

This is the street my parents live on. The white on the trees is hoar frost.

These are the trees in front of my mom and dad's house

You can see how thick the hoar frost is. Although I find this one of the most beautiful things about winter, the frost on the power lines is responsible for the many power outages and surges that wrecked our computer.

I think this pictures is awesome

Benen, Me and Connor

My mom and my niece, Senaye

Grandma and her girls, Senaye and Kadeja

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Jeff Foxworthy

I was just forwarded this and had to share. It is SO TRUE!

Forget Rednecks, here is what Jeff Foxworthy has to say about Canucks:

~ If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you may live in Canada.

~ If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you may live in Canada.

~ If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you may live in Canada.

~ If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you may live in Canada.

~ If "Vacation" means going anywhere south of Muncie for the weekend, you may live in Canada.

~ If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Canada.

~ If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you may live in Canada.

~ If you have switched from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again, you may live in Canada.

~ If you can drive 90 kms/hr through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you may live in Canada.

~ If you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both unlocked, you may live in Canada.

~ If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you may live in Canada.

~ If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you may live in Canada.

~ If the speed limit on the highway is 80km -- you're going 90 and everybody is passing you, you may live in Canada.

~ If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow, you may live in Canada.

~ If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction, you may live in Canada.

~ If you have more miles on your snow blower than your car, you may live in Canada.

~ If you find 2 degrees "a little chilly", you may live in Canada.

~ If you actually understand these jokes, and forward them to all your Canadian friends & others, you definitely live in Canada.

I only have two things to say. First off, Dairy Queen is open year round where I live and you will find people ordering Blizzards during...well, a blizzard. We also drink Slurpees in -30 degrees.

Secondly, the four seasons are exactly right. In my opinion, the worst time to drive is during the spring ("still winter") when the roads are covered in water and slush. You can't see the potholes which, if I'm being honest, are more like craters. I've damaged a car that way.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Crazy Conversations

** A conversation with Benen during supper.

Benen: Mom, you and I are kinda the same.
Me: How's that?
Benen: Well, your skin is kinda peach and look, my skin is peach.
Me: You're right. We are the same.
Chad: Benen, what color is my skin?
Benen: Well .... it's .... it's mostly just hairy.
Chad (trying not to laugh): Oh. I guess it is.
Benen: See this? (Holds up his arm and squints with one eye) I've got some little hairs, too.
Chad (looking closely): Yup.
Benen: Dad, when I grow up, I'm gonna be big and hairy like you.

** A conversation with Chad while watching a movie.

Me: Oh, you have the subtitles on. Good idea.
Chad: That's me. Smartest guy in the world.
Me: You are. You married me.
Chad (slight hesitation): Really not that smart.

Chad claims he wasn't referring to my last comment when he said that, but I'm not letting him live it down.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Kids are mischievous. They somehow manage to hone in on the stuff that's "off-limits." They look for those golden opportunities when your back is turned, you use the bathroom or you blink both eyes. In a nanosecond, they will have the cupboard doors open, the toilet paper pulled off the roll, the toothpaste squeezed out of the tube and all the DVDs scattered across the basement floor. Or they'll do this.

Yeah, those are mine. Heaven forbid I take a shower and get dressed. Kolten decided to climb on the bathroom stool and play with mommy's glasses. Thank God for warranties and the nice people at The Eyewear Place.

P.S. I still have three children.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Another Random Post

I was gently reminded that it's been a week since I sat down to blog. I can't believe the time has passed so quickly. Over the holidays I had all these things I wanted to share, but no time to visit my computer. My e-mail sat neglected for days at a time, something almost unheard of for me. And since I can't remember all the funny things that happened over Christmas and New Year's, I'm just gonna post what comes to mind. In other words, random.

* I unwrapped a present to find my ticket to Paradise. A cappuccino/espresso maker. And I also got a Bodum, which makes French Press coffee. Now, I have one whole length of my countertop filled with coffee paraphernalia. And those people who love me lots and know me well, also gave me books and pajamas! This is my kind of heaven!

* Our household seems to have an ongoing battle with an army of little viral invaders. We've been battling the flu off and on for about three weeks. I felt we had paid our dues and could remove the quarantine flag from our front yard when my oldest son crawled into bed with us at 4:15 a.m. I had climbed in around 2:30 and was just getting into a good REM cycle when his hot little feet scorched the hair off my legs. Yowsah, I thought, he must have been buried under mountains of blankets. He's a regular furnace most of the time, but a touch of my lips to his forehead confirmed that he was burning with fever.

I felt alarm course through me and I sat up to check him over. Hot face, hot head, hot arms and hands, hot tummy, and burning little feet. I don't worry much when he gets a fever because he's always been prone to them. In fact - and I do not lie or exaggerate - he has run fevers as high as 106.3 without convulsions. He does, however, sometimes hallucinate. This was not the case last night but I figured he was ranging around 103 - 104. I got up to give him some Tylenol and ushered him back to bed with strict instructions to come get me if he thought he was going to be sick.

Two minutes later he's in our room complaining of a stomach ache and feeling like he's gonna puke. I sat him by the toilet while I made up a bed on the floor. I got him nicely settled and spent the next hour tense and on edge, listening for that tell-tale gagging, whimpery sound that precedes the vomiting.

And I prayed. Well, 'prayed' sounds a little mild. I ranted and argued and pleaded with God to heal my son. I wasn't very eloquent. It went something like this:

"God, heal my son. This is so not fair! He's already had the flu. He shouldn't have to get sick again! Take all those yucky germs and blast them out of his body and out of this house! Heal him. Don't let him puke. I really, really don't want to have to do a mountain of laundry. And he's hurting. And it's not fair. So, please heal him....of course, Your will and all that. *sigh* Amen."

I managed to nod off sometime after 5:00.

I was ripped from my blissful slumber by an earth shattering scream. My heart jumped and I managed to pry open my eyes. There was a little body standing beside my bed.

"Mom, Connor's hurt. Can I have cereal?"

Well, duh, I thought, of course someone's hurt. At least that's what I had assumed the screaming was all about. The pounding of little feet rushing up the stairs and down the hall pulled me into a half sitting position. Connor ran into my room with tears coursing down his cheeks and muffled screams coming from behind his hands.

"What happened?"

"mshlybymyounne," he sobbed.

Huh. "What?"

"My young."

Okay. "Move your hands and let me see." I gently pulled his hands from his face. That's when I realized blood was running down his chin, hands and arms and was dripping off his elbows.

I flew out of bed, rushed him to the bathroom and made him rinse, swish, spit, rinse, swish, spit until most of the bleeding stopped. I am thankful I'm not a breakfast eater. Those Wheaties - oh who am I kidding? - that chocolate cake would have made a swift reappearance. As it was, my stomach twisted, turned and flopped, but I managed to soothe and clean him.

He had bitten right through his tongue in the same place he had bitten through it last week. He slipped while running up the stairs and hit his chin on the way down. Only now, both sides of his tongue have teeth marks.

Sidenote: All through high school I wanted to be a nurse. I had planned on going to university and becoming an RN. Then, I job shadowed for a day and learned I don't have the stomach for it. I can't handle the blood, spit, sweat, smells, sights and 'other' that go with the profession. So instead I became a mother. HA! Now I get all that and more...without the paycheck.

* Things that have made me smile:
Benen during supper - "Mom, this is deeeee-licious. Much better than yesterday."
Connor - "Mom, you're a princess."

* Yesterday I watched Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason. I LOVE the Bridget Jones movies. They're great. A little raunchy in some places, but still so hilarious. How can you not love the part where Mark Darcy (played by the incredible Colin Firth) says, "I like you, just the way you are." *sigh* Or the part in Edge of Reason where Bridget is getting dressed and she has the sheet draped over her for modesty.

Mark Darcy: What on Earth are you doing?
Bridget Jones: Getting dressed.
Mark Darcy: Why're you dancing around in that tent business?
Bridget Jones: Because I don't want you to see any of my wobbly bits.
Mark Darcy: Well now that's a bit pointless isn't it. As I happen to have a very high regard for your wobbly bits. In all circumstances.

I love that part. Makes me laugh every time. So. Funny!