Just want to let everyone know I am still writing! You can check out the new blog at www.thejoyofsneezing.blogspot.com. I am missing some of my old readers since I've changed addresses! Stop by when you get a chance and check out the new site.
Hope everyone is well!

I'm moving!

Hi Friends,

I have decided to change the title and the address of my blog to The Joy of Sneezing. When I first started this blog, I quickly typed in a name (Kendra's Coffee House) simply to save it and move on to the next step.

I have often thought about writing a book with this title to entail the many things my grandmother taught me about the art of living. I hope one day that will come to fruition, but for now, I have this blog--my precious creative outlet. ;-)

If you are following this blog, would you mind going to: www.thejoyofsneezing.blogspot.com and becoming a follower there? I apologize for the changes--I think you will like the template of the new blog a little better as well. It's cheerful; let me know what you think. Also, if there are any glitches, I will try to remedy them as quickly as possible.

Thank you!!

The Really Cool Thing about Crosses to Bear...

So, last night my 7 1/2 year old ended up in bed with me. Dh was at band practice and it was actually really nice to have my oldest still want to snuggle up with me. Before I finish the story, I'm going to give you a little bit of background.

As many of you know, Super-boy was diagnosed as having Sensory Perception Disorder (SPD) a couple of years ago. We have known that there was something going on for a while, but the diagnosis just put a name on it and enabled us to better help him. For those of you who aren't familiar with SPD, the break-down is that, as the name suggests, the senses are over or under-reactive. In Super-boy's case, they are over-reactive.

Case in point: some kids fall down, scrape their knees, stand up and brush themselves off. Super-boy falls, starts screaming like a wild banshee, takes off running with no destination in sight and there is nothing I can do to comfort him. As a mother, you want to wrap your arms around your child and soothe them. This is not an option; he will not allow it. Another example: you want to make the holidays magical for your child. For Easter, dh made a trail of jelly beans leading to the Easter baskets. The excitement was just absolutely too much. And an hour later, when it was time to go to church, no amount of "transitioning preparation" was going to help. Our home went from singing and pure bliss to hysteria. We've learned to make the holidays simple. No bells and whistles.

As he's getting older and more mature, it is getting more manageable. And thank God that the doctor's words are beginning to ring true, "He probably won't grow out of it, but he'll grow in to it". Meaning, he will learn to cope. He is beginning to recognize that he is an emotional child. But here's the beauty of it: with every difficulty, I believe that these children possess a quality equally endearing. Although he is especially in tune with the negative: the chaos that ensues at times (more than I'd like) with a family of five, loud noises, scraped elbows, etc., he is also very sensitive to the positive. Although he likes to run and jump as much as any boy, if not more, he is not aggressive. He's sensitive to others' needs for personal space. He's craves the closeness of those he loves. And so, getting back to the crux of this narrative, last night, Super-boy crawled in to bed with me...

He began telling me about how he learned the story of St. Nicholas at school saying, "He even saved his father". "How did he do that?", I asked with my arms wrapped around him. "He prayed for him". As selfish as it may have been, but knowing that sometimes we are carried on the wings of others' prayers, I replied, "Well, maybe you can help save mommy by praying for me". To which he replied very seriously, eyes looking up at the ceiling, "I do pray for you, mom. Everyday." Hot tears filled my eyes and began to run down my face. For many reasons. Because I knew he was telling the truth. Because my little boy recognizes the power of prayer probably more than I do. Because he's taking the weakness of his hyper-sensitivity and turning it in to a strength. If he can figure this out at age seven, I can't wait to see what he can do when he is thirty-seven. Sometimes our greatest strength is hidden in the folds of our greatest weakness.

“To be able to feel the lightest touch really is a gift.” ~Christopher Reeves

Out With the Old and In With the...Serenity

As Christmas is approaching, I start to feel a growing anxiety about the influx of toys that will be coming in to our house. With three little ones each receiving x many gifts, it can get a little out of control over here.

This time last year, I was ravenously putting every Sandra Felton (organizing guru) tip to use that I could. I probably got rid of about twenty boxes of things. The list ranged from utensils to futons. But as the year has progressed, I managed to forget much of what I learned and began accumulating more and more. (And that's one reason why watching "Hoarders" really has its benefits).

Anyway, what I have found is that I spend massive amounts of time feeling somewhat overwhelmed and am constantly trying to "re-organize". But when I really take an honest look, I spend a wasteful amount of time organizing things that I don't use. I move things around to make them fit. I buy more storage containers. But rarely do I purge.

And so, this week, God pity the toy that hasn't been used in a month. It's gone. The magazines that I will eventually read...they're out. The numerous learning materials that have collected dust on my shelf for a good year or two...they're going to someone who will use them (I have way too many to count). Oh yeah, and that precious duplicate toy I couldn't get rid of because of who it came from? Well, I do love you Great Aunt Helga, but I need some space.

Purging brings me clarity of mind. Less stuff means less cleaning which means more precious time. Instead of worrying about all of this Stuff with a capital S, I can light a candle and enjoy a good book. Mind you, I am not there yet, dear friends, but this is what I'm working on. When I get that beloved little camera, I will take some pics of areas I am working on and maybe you can give me some helpful ideas.

Camera-happy....

Today, I am so excited because dh ordered a new camera last night. Back in July, we were on our family vacation and Dynamite managed to have a near-drowning incident...okay, that may be a little dramatic. But he did fall face-first in to the lake and began inhaling mouthfuls of immune-boosting seaweed-soaked water. Mother's instinct being what it is, I ran out in to the water to grab him. Long story short: I had our camera in one pocket and my cell phone in the other. Both fell out and Cindy-Lou Who showed her stuff by finding them in record time. Sadly, however, the camera never recovered. At the end of the day, the little guy was just fine (albeit a little frightened to go near the water) and we chalked the camera up to another life-saving adventure (I'm a stay-at-home mom; I have to make my life sound somewhat daring when the opportunity arises).

All that to say, I'm geeked! I can't wait to start sharing some recent pictures with all of you. Hope everyone is well!

Sweating to the Oldies...and Mrs. Field's Cookies

So, I officially joined the gym a couple of weeks ago and have been loving it! I've been trying to get there three times a week; sometimes it ends up being only twice, but I'm not worried about it. Since I don't have an mp3 or an ipod, I rock out with my grandma's walkman which has the battery case scotch-taped shut because it's broken. I don't have earbuds either, so if you're looking for me there, I'm the one styling with headphones similar to the one your first grader wears for computer time. I like to think of myself as a trendsetter...just wait, I think it's going to catch on...

I work out at Bally's and the one I go to is right inside of a mall. If you haven't been there, the layout of it is interesting. In the front, the wall is made entirely of glass, so as you're working out, mall walkers can look in and see you strutting your stuff--or not. Now, here is the interesting part, as I'm walking on the treadmill, I'm looking directly out at none other than Mrs. Field's Original Cookies. Whose idea was that? Instead of thinking about getting more fit and eating right, I'm thinking about how many more minutes of cardio I have left until I can get that chocolate chocolate chip cookie. In honesty, I have only done that once...and I think I burned enough calories that it was permissible. Not quite sure about that...I do, however, think about it every single time I am sweating on that treadmill.

Anyway, just wanted to give a little update on the excercise status. Do you think it would be weird if I walked backwards on the treadmill so as to face the opposite direction? My kids do it all the time in stores, so maybe it would be okay. Or, I could wear a blindfold...now that might be really awesome in combination with my awesome headphones.

Hmmm, things to ponder. Hope you're all having a great day.

You say tomato, I say to-mah-to...

Most people look at a dresser and see it as a space for storing clothing. Dynamite looks at it and sees a ladder that he can climb. Most people see a church's pews and kneelers as a tool for focus on becoming more like Christ. Dynamite sees those and his eyes light up at the new obstacle course he has discovered (take today for example when I had to grab a hold of his feet to stop him from army crawling under every blessed pew, pun intended). Most people look at rice and see something that would taste good and be a source of nutrition. Dynamite sees himself at a wedding congratulating the emerging bride and groom throwing handfuls of it up in to the sky! Okay, I don't really know that his thought process gets that far...but whatever he's envisioning, it's not something to eat.

I know you all must think that my little darling is hyped up on sugar (only sometimes) and out of control (okay, a lot of the time). However, can I just tell you that this little guy is pure magic? As "active" as he is, he makes me smile all day long. He is probably more affectionate than anyone in the house, with a hug and a kiss before anyone can leave or enter our door. He is an absolute delight. So much so, that it is really hard for me to get mad at him. This had to be God's intention when He decided in his ultimate wisdom that He would bless me with such a handful. His thought process may have gone a little like this, "Okay, she needs to learn patience and kindness. I'm going to give her a walking tornado...but I'll make him pretty cute and a ball of joy".

I have to smile when I think that this is how God looks down on us. With all of our quirks and imperfections, 1 Timothy 4:4 says that "everything God created is good". When we see something broken, God sees something worth fixing. When we see ourselves as lacking, our Creator sees not our inadequacies, but the potential that lies within. Thank God for different perspectives. Maybe Dynamite gets something I don't. He looks past the practical and the ordinary and seeks out adventure. Finds the amazing. Maybe the saying that children are closer to God really is true.

I Want to be King!

I love this picture. Dear husband (dh) says it looks like Dynamite is shouting, "I AM KING OF THE WORRRLLLLD!". On that note, I wanted to share a fabulous quote from Marianne Williamson's book, A Return to Love:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. You were born to manifest the glory of God that is within you. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Wow! This is powerful stuff. How often do we find ourselves filling our minds with negative self-talk? For example, "I'm too old to play an instrument well, why bother trying?" or "I haven't written anything in ages, I don't even think I can anymore". We allow the nay-saying to stifle out new possibilities. We hang our heads feeling defeated when we haven't even gotten out of the gate. Talk about being unfair!

As a kid, I can remember feeling embarrassed that I enjoyed reading. I recall being laughed at when I used a word like "catapulted" instead of "jumped". I was ashamed of what I loved, because it made me different. God forbid that I draw any attention to myself and step outside of the safe circle of mediocrity. We see children make fun of others all the time because something is different about them. They are thinner, they are fatter, they are smarter, they are shorter. We grow up with the voices calling out, "Don't be different! Don't stand out!". And we gradually learn to internalize those voices. And if we allow them to, the voices deter us from becoming the person we were meant to be.

Remember, who are you not to be amazing? Choose not to be stifled. Choose to be incredible. It is what you were created for.

“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.” -Howard Thurman

A little Moonlight Sonata, please?

Remember how I was writing about being disorganized and forgetful? Well, this morning was a perfect example. I woke up and was lazily sipping my coffee while the kids played. Dh decided to go over to my parents' to work on their computer and the three musketeers wanted to tag along. As they were all piling in the car, I remembered, oh no!, I made plans to go to dh's aunt's house which is an hour and a half away. At this point, it was roughly ten o'clock and I was still in my jammies. Let the William Tell Overture begin!

To make a long story short, I was able to get myself together while the kids were gone and when they got back we all headed out for our little road trip. We listened to Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs on cd along with Cindy-Lou Who's new Taylor Swift cd (I make no apologies, we both love her...the boys roll their eyes and we choose to ignore them).

It was a day of leisurely visiting and kids belly laughing. Super-boy and Cindy-Lou Who took a ride out in their uncle's wagon which was hitched to the back of a tractor. Believe me, they were in their glory. Dynamite wanted to get on, but he didn't want to get on, if you get my drift. He kept crying, "wa-non! wanon!", but every time I would try to put him in, he would wrap his arms around my neck in a death grip. Maybe next time...

So, in spite of my forgetfulness this morning, it turned out to be a really pleasant day. Ending with a little bit of Moonlight Sonata, which is way more relaxing than the way it started out.

All of Me

I am free, and yet shackled.
I am more alive than I have ever been, and yet dragged down by a thousand wrongs.
I am surrounded by deep, abiding and transparent love and yet swallowed up by the hypocrisy...the shallowness of both myself and others.
I am goodness and selfishness.
I am joy overflowing and sadness at its core.
I am a smile and my head in my hands.
I am magical and toxic.
I am peaceful and plagued.
I am laying it down and taking it right back every chance I get.
I am light and dark.
I am loved.

For all of these things, I am loved.
I write this because I tend to focus on the negative, or as my friend Matt commented at one point, "the unworthiness". But I am worthy. You are worthy.
You are loved.

Courage to Change the Things I Can...

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference". ~The Serenity Prayer


So, the last few weeks I've been feeling crummy about where I'm at with my physical fitness. It's getting colder and I'm a lot less apt to hop on my bike to make a quick trip to the fruit market or the bank. I'm not preparing for any rides (okay, so I only did one, but who's counting). I'm not walking to the library as frequently as when the kids were out of school.



Also, I am an admitted chocoholic. I LOVE dark chocolate and everybody knows it. If it is in the house, I will eat it. If it is not in the house, I will buy it. It is somewhat of an addiction. All of the healthy muffin recipes that I make...I stuff them chock full of chocolate chips which kind of eliminates the healthy factor.



Last but not least, I hate to exercise unless it is fully disguised in pure fun. I love to play softball because I have a competitive spirit and I get to leave the house to hang with friends. I like to ride my bike because I am going somewhere--I am riding with a purpose of arriving at a destination. But walking on a treadmill...not so much.



So as I was wishing I was in better shape, eating healthier and exercising more, I said to myself, "This is YOUR CHOICE. If you don't like it, change it". How often do I sit around feeling badly about something that I have total control over? Feeling powerless when I am fully empowered to make a change?



So, here it is, friends. I am joining the gym. I am always somewhat embarrassed to go to the gym as I look like a dufus trying to figure out how to work half of the machines. But I am going to do it, because I am tired of feeling bad about it!



Is there something in your life that you feel badly about that you have the ability to change? I'm curious. Share if you can and maybe we can all encourage each other!



Also, check out this HILARIOUS link of Brian Regan talking about feeling like a loser at the gym. You'll get a great laugh for the day.

http://comedians.jokes.com/brian-regan/videos/brian-regan---the-gym

The Muffins Can Wait

"Mom, how do you spell 'Grandpa -------'?". Or "Mom, how do you spell 'You are my best friend and I love you'?". (I know I'm messing up my punctuation here, fellow English nerds--I will get out my MLA and straighten myself out, I promise). And so, I begin slowly, "M-o-m...".

I really want to bake muffins today. I want to do something that requires my complete attention and have zero interruptions. But my husband so gently broke it to me today, "I don't know if you're going to get that...this...year". Nice. And I may not. So, how do I cope? How do I manage to feel fulfilled when right now, as I'm typing, Dynamite is spilling Cheerios all over the floor that I just swept. Cindy-lou Who continues to call out her spelling demands from her corner of the living-room , and Super-boy stands here chattering in my ear about Pokemon.

...And now Super-boy is doing somersaults off the couch...
...And now Dynamite is emptying my pan cupboard...

Perhaps surrender is the answer. Lay it down. Right now, I need to be content with what is before me and recognize that being in the will of God is fulfilling my responsibilities at this very moment in time. At this very moment, it is my duty to gently get my children headed toward bed. To read a story, brush their teeth and say prayers...without gritting my teeth and doing so in the most hurried manner possible. It is my blessing to be able to kiss them on their foreheads and tell them that they are loved and that they are good.

And to tell myself that the muffins can wait. To be fully present. Wow, it is so hard to do that. But for tonight, I will do my best.

Good Enough

Most mornings, I wake up with the William Tell Overture blaring in my head. I very groggily roll over to look at the time, only to realize that, oh no!, I am late again! and it begins with the distant rumble of horses galloping... Sure, there are days when I can get this stubborn body out of bed early, but it does not happen often. And it seems that no matter what I do to make things organized for the next day, I'm still on the edge of acting just a little bit like a psychopath!

The night before, I get the coffee ready, make the lunch(es)--(I make Mike's too if I'm feeling extremely loving and generous, wink), and have a general tidiness in our house. However, every morning as the kids are running out the door with their backpacks flying behind them shoving toast in their mouths, the house has been turned upside down. There is underwear on the floor, dirty dishes, blankets strewn about (why???) and, well, it's chaos, folks. I don't know how else to say it.

There is no reason for my sharing this other than to let you in on a little secret (actually, it's no secret at all): I am disorganized and very imperfect. I tell you with no hesitation that I do not have it all together. I am the mom who is on the phone with my girlfriends at 7:15 saying, "Oh my gosh, are the kids supposed to wear their uniforms or dress down today???". There is a general sense of cluelessness in our house, with the exception of Cindy-Lou Who (5) who tries to keep mom and dad in the know (thank God for this sweet treasure).

But I do try...really hard. My intentions are good. And today, that is good enough. I am perfectly content with my imperfection.

“My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and my talents and I lay them both at his feet.” -Gandhi

A Time to Dance

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under
heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up
what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep; and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek and a time to lose;

a time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Today, my Aunt Eileen and I buried my grandma. She has been gone for over a year now and my aunt has had her ashes in an urn at her house. We finally felt it was time to lay her down to rest. It was a beautiful fall day, full of autumn breezes, one that my grandma would have basked in.

My aunt and I shared a lot of great memories and knew that grandma was laughing right along with us. One of the greatest things about her was that when she laughed, her shoulders shook up and down. Even if there was not a sound coming out of her mouth, her body was jiggling.

Right after my biological father died, my grandma and aunt went to a group meeting that they were told would help them cope with their loss. The group began by going around and making introductions. The first person they came to said, "My name is _____ and I have terrible anxiety. I can't even go to the grocery store without having a panic attack". The second person, "My name is _____ and I break out in to cold sweats when I leave the house". As the introductions continued, my grandma and aunt realized they were in a group for people who suffer from agoraphobia. My aunt remembers that out of the corner of her eye, she saw my grandma's shoulders start to shake up and down uncontrollably.

Even in the midst of unbearable pain, there is reason for laughter. We have certainly grieved, but today we celebrated and did so with a smile.

Easy Chicken Parmesan

Just a recipe for you to try out. Super easy and very enjoyable. I generally use my homemade spaghetti sauce with this, but I've also grabbed a jar of Bertoli and that works nicely also. Enjoy!http://recipes.epicurean.com/recipe/854/easy-chicken-parmesan.html

Drink Deeply

I went for a walk along a stone path lined with Silver Maples and Evergreens on one side and a gently flowing pond on the other. Although the water was rather murky, the sound of it was lulling and inviting. So inviting, in fact, that one of the trees had stretched one of its limbs over the entire path in an enormous arch and then dipped down in to the water. It reminded me of a rainbow or the delicate arm of a ballerina poised just so. And it made me wonder if there are some living things that thirst for water more than others. While all of the other trees were content to get their nourishment down at the roots, here was this one that struggled to be immersed at both ends.

I think many of us are like that tree, thirsting to experience life in a deep and meaningful way. We don't accept status quo and we're not content with just enough. We hunger for more. Sometimes I think this desire is my best asset and my heaviest cross. And yet, I believe that in this search for deeper fulfillment, we experience a greater depth in our relationships with others and with God. Perhaps we cry a little more, but I believe we love a little deeper as well.

I am greedy when it comes to what I want out of life. I want it all. I want to love my kids and my husband with an incomparable love. That is not saying that I always succeed, but that is my desire. I want to take chances and come out stronger on the other side. I want to fill the lives of those around me with magic. Sometimes I fill their life with griping and boo-hooing, but I'm working on it. And at the end of the day, I want to be content knowing that I have done my best.

Jump in with both feet! Do a somersault while you're at it. Get soaking wet with the richness of life. You may get a little muddy, but my guess is it will be well worth it.

Discovering the Extraordinary in the Ordinary

My life couldn't be any more ordinary. I am a stay at home mom with three kids. I live in a modest home with a husband who works hard to support our family.

Many times, I will think to myself, "When I am done with the cooking, cleaning, homework, packing lunches, etc., I will be able to do something of importance". And then I realize, these are not interruptions. This is the stuff that everyday is made of and it is only what we make of it. If I view my vocation as a chore, it will certainly be one. But if I do my best to view it as a blessing, a way to exercise my creativity, an opportunity to make our home burst with life and joy, it will be all of those things. As Frederick Bailes so eloquently stated, "Man’s power of choice enables him to think like an angel or a devil, a king or a slave. Whatever he chooses, mind will create and manifest".

I would be lying if I told you I wasn't in my pajamas right now and I'm getting ready to throw in a load of laundry. Then I will do my dishes and try to get some organizational stuff done. Things couldn't be more ordinary. But my power of choice and mindset has the ability to transform my day in to something magical.

Share with me about this. I am curious to know your thoughts and suggestions on pulling yourself out of that place where life becomes laborious. Let's make this ordinary day extraordinary!

European-style Cooking

For years I've tried to get more organized when it comes to my grocery list. I have tried to make one or two week meal plans in an effort to frequent the grocery stores less-frequently. ;-) I have tried switching up my shopping days. It sounds trite and maybe a little OCD, but when you have three kids, it's not that easy to pick-up and pop-in to the store.

Since Cindly-Lou Who (5) and Wonderboy (7) have started school, I have found that the Italian approach to grocery shopping and meal planning works best in our house. That is: "It's 11 a.m., hmmm...what should we have for dinner tonight?". And then, we proceed to the store to purchase said items. Of course, I look to see what I have at home first and then go from there. But when I was making the one/two week meal plans, a lot of times I just wouldn't feel like making that basil chicken when Thursday rolled around. And now that Dynamite (2) is the only one at home in the morning, it is easy for us to pick-up and pop-in. Not only is less food going to waste, but I am really enjoying meal time more! If I've had a rough day, I pull something out of the freezer.

When I stayed in Italy for a few months, we would literally go to the market each day by foot or bike and pick up the ingredients for that night's meal. (On a bike-worthy day, I will take Dynamite in the bike trailer).

Doing this slows things down, makes it less about the finished product and more about enjoying pulling it all together. The meal is made from fresh ingredients and it gives you an opportunity to tap in to those creative juices that might be flowing.

I share this in hopes that it may help some struggling moms. I know this is not a good fit for everyone (it wasn't for me last year!), but it may be for some. Happy cooking!

Last night, I went to bed thinking, "Tomorrow will be a better day." Today, I woke up thinking, "Ugh, I still feel awful."

Most of you know that I've been taking prednisone for my eczema. Between that and the onset of shorter days (less sunlight), I've been feeling a little gloomy. Okay, that's a euphamism. I've been feeling like burying my head in a pillow and bawling my eyes out. There is no logical reason for this, and as much as I tell myself that, I still feel blue.

So today, I am going to do an experiment. I feel like staying in my pajamas and letting Dynamite watch Sesame Street, but instead, I am going to "rally," as my Sourpatch friend says. I am going to get dressed and head out, enjoy the sunshine. Mind over matter. I'm going to find a great recipe for dinner and do a load of laundry (with some cherry blossom fabric softener).

I will let you all know how it goes.
"Energy and persistence conquer all things." Benjamin Franklin

Will You Be My Friend? Check Yes or No

I feel compelled to write about friendship today. I have to preface this by sharing with you that I have some of the greatest friends that a person could have. My friends make me feel whole, grounded, secure, loved. I sometimes feel like a sixteen year old with the amount of precedence I give my friendships. But friends are important.

As a kid, we moved around a lot. I had to say goodbye on more than one occasion. In a certain respect, I think that gave me a deeper appreciation for relationships in my life; yes, people come and go, but some don't. Some are life-long companions.

Last week, I wrote in my blog about how I ate a box of Sourpatch Kids and there were no stinkin' red ones. The next morning, I am dropping off Cindy-Lou Who at kindergarten and my dear friend hands me a king size box of Sourpatch kids and says, "I hope there are some red ones in here." (Much to my delight, there were eight, not that I was counting).

A couple of months ago, all of the kids were sick. Another dear friend shows up on my doorstep with pedialyte and "sick snacks" in hand. What a thoughtful gesture! And one that meant so much to me.

I could go on and on, but I will let it suffice to say that friendships are important. They are revitalizing (at least, they should be). And they teach us that it is just as much about the other person as it is about ourselves (how often do we get stuck in the quagmire of our everyday lives?).

I will end with a quote just shared with me today by Sourpatch friend mentioned above:

"In friendship, we find nothing false or insincere; everything is straightforward and springs from the heart." - Cicero

Cashew Chicken Curry

Right now, my house is pulsing with the delicious smells of cumin and curry. I wanted to share this recipe with all of you because it is one of our favorites. You can't go wrong with this! Serve it over basmati and with parathas (which you can buy at your local Indian grocer). It is a little involved to make if you're not used to spending too much time on a recipe. I will tell you, however, that it is well worth it and I generally double the recipe so that I can freeze some (it keeps perfectly).
http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Chicken-Curry-with-Cashews-231358

Live Well

I heard a beautiful story on the radio yesterday as I was listening to Father John Ricardo on AM 990:

Mother Theresa had taken in a man who was very near death, a matter of hours. She stayed with him whispering gently over and over, "You are about to meet Jesus". Finally, just before the man died, he looked at her and said, "Is this Jesus anything like you?". What a beautiful story and example of how we are called to be like Christ to those in need.

Okay, but how do I do that in my life? I am not a nun in Calcutta. I have three kids to take care of and a house to maintain. If you are a perfectionist like me, you might think, "Wow, I could never measure up to that ideal". But I am not called to that ideal. I am called to be a wife and mother, to meet the needs of my family the best I can, and to simply be present to the everyday tasks at hand.

Right now, that task is distracting my two-year old who is on a mission to rip open a bag of cheesy popcorn...

So today, whether you are ministering to those in hospital beds, working at a desk or wiping butts for a living (aka: mom), do it well. And do it with the knowledge that we are all called to very different things, none of which are insignificant.

The Joy of Sneezing

Today marks the one year anniversary of my Grandma Graham's (and dear friend's) passing on from this world and in to a place far greater.

My grandma was an extraordinary woman. She always encouraged me in my love of writing and of music, two things that bring such joy to me. I examine my life today and know that it would not be nearly as fulfilled had it not been for her strong influence.

I watched my grandma's body slowly be taken over by Parkinson's Disease. It was over a course of some twenty plus years, but the amazing thing was that her mind stayed extremely sharp until perhaps the last couple of months.

As I watched her shaking hand try to get her fork up to her mouth, I thought how miserable her life must be. She couldn't button up her shirts or her bras anymore and no more necklaces with the little clasps that she loved. She was stuck inside now and needed someone nearby almost twenty-four/seven. In the midst of all my feeling sorry for her, I happened to sneeze. My grandma looked at me with a dreamy smile and asked, "Don't you just love to sneeze? I've never understood those people who try to hold their sneezes in; it's really fun to sneeze". And that's when I realized, the human spirit can lose all things, but if they let go of their sense of joy and gratitude, life becomes toilsome. My grandma held on to that truth with trembling hands.

Today I remember not her infirmities, but her strength and dignity.

I hope your day is full of the joy of sneezing and all of life's other little wonders.

Just one of those days

Today, I am feeling rather slothful. I want to lie on the couch and eat fattening foods while I watch HGTV. It was just one of those days where I couldn't get motivated.

I did, however, go on a bike ride to the bank with Graham in tow...and then I realized from the big sign on the window that it was, in fact, Columbus Day. As a side note, the tellers at the bank are very friendly when I go through the drive-thru on my bicycle.

After dinner, I ate the kids' sour patch kids that I told them they couldn't have because it would give them cavities (don't feel too sorry for them; they didn't eat their dinner, but I did eat mine...and they were asleep by this time). But there were no red ones! Only yellow and green. That's when I knew it was just time to throw in the towel and call it a day.

Tomorrow: a day full of new adventures...

Good night, everyone.

Becoming Whole

I am a sinner. I fall short in so many ways. And yet, I know that there is good within me. As John Steinbeck says in East of Eden of one of his characters, "[He] is packed to the top with good and evil". When I read that phrase, it stirred something deep inside of me. There is a literary term that also captures this juxtaposition of light and dark, called chiaroscuro.

As children, we are taught that there are good people and there are bad people. But what of the good people that make bad choices? And is there not a drop of good in those people locked away in prisons? I believe that there is. Debbie Ford, author and self-help guru has some fascinating things to say about this in her book, "The Dark Side of the Light Chasers".

We lead ourselves in to a very precarious place when we think of ourselves as fully one or the other. We are both...striving ultimately to rid ourselves of sin, but to know that we are loved "yet when we [are]sinners".

Why Less is More...

Today, I went on a field trip with my kindergarten-aged daughter to the cider mill. I must say that this is one of my favorite trips of the entire year. I love the smell of apples and donuts just made. If they could take that smell and truly capture it in a Yankee Candle (I know they have great scents, but nothing compares to the real deal), I would put them out of business.

But the real reason why I am writing is because of a fascinating bit of information I heard today: a worker bee produces one twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in his lifetime. One twelfth. In an entire lifetime. I'm sure you've heard all of the old adages like, "Oh, aren't you a busy bee?". Who in the heck cares if they are busy if they don't really accomplish anything? Or do they?

They are, in fact, productive. And what they produce is perfect in its own rite. It is pure and simple. We're thinking quality here, not quantity.

It is inherent to the bee to make honey. The queen bee doesn't invite the worker bee over and say, "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna make some honey and bust your @#!*% for peanuts...okay, forget the peanuts, how about some pollen?". No. Work is in the bee's DNA. The bee was made to work, to create, and to do something of value.

I, too, was made to do these things. But I think my standards may be too high. I want to move mountains each and every day. I have a hundred and one things to do and I want to do them all perfectly...

But the life and determination of the bee sobers me. It inspires me to create something raw, beautiful, unblemished. And this something doesn't have to be over the top, but it does have to be genuine. Even if it is the very smallest feat, it need be honest. If it is a gesture, let it come from my core. If it is a touch, let it be deliberate and meaningful. If I produce something bursting with purity that equates to the bee's one twelfth of a teaspoon...well, I will take a deep breath and congratulate myself for a job well done.