Way Back When-esday: Couched Cousins

Dateline: January 2006
Twins' Age: 4

Clever Nancy of The Zimmer Zoo---she figured out my plan! This week's Makes My Monday was last weekend's re-enactment of this favorite photo from way back when! Smiles from siblings and their cute cousins warm my mid-week.

Link up your pictures from the past and play along with Way Back When-esday!

Dive into those digital photos or scan a scrapbook find. Tell the tale and place a post on your blog. Be sure and link back to participate in the web-wide reverie...and leave a comment when you do!

Multiples & Manners Maintenance: Part I

When a simple question asked of two youngsters received nary a single response...

Mommy (frustrated): "You should always answer when someone asks you a question."

Darren (not missing a beat): "Not when a robber asks you where your money is."

Who am I to argue with that kind of logic?

Makes My Monday: Pre-Pig-Out Pile-Up!

When our pair and their much-loved cousins were wee tykes, a now-classic family photo was taken atop a vacation place sofa. This Thanksgiving, our first with the newly relocated to South Carolina cousins, we recreated the original for the grandparents celebrating halfway across the country.

Magical moments re-enacted Make My Monday.

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Way Back When-esday: The Kiddie Table

Dateline: November 2006
Twins' Age: 5

Grins gone-by from our gobblers and their gorgeous cousins. Thanksgivings past warm my heart this Way Back When-esday!

Link up your pictures from the past---or your Thanksgiving post---and play along with Way Back When-esday!

Dive into those digital photos or scan a scrapbook find. Tell the tale and place a post on your blog. Be sure and link back to participate in the web-wide reverie...and leave a comment when you do!

Makes My Monday: Swedish Meatballs

A weekend getaway to D.C. facilitated a trek home trip to family favorite, Ikea. One of our Spoka (there is an umlaut over the "o," my keyboard is simply incapable) nightlights gave up its glow (glow-st?), and a new acquisition was in order.

No visit to Little Sweden is complete without a man-sized portion of meatballs and a lady-sized glass of ligonberry drink.

Horsing around on weekend errands Makes My Monday.
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Upon My Beloved's Birthday...

You're the yin to my yang. The Astaire to my Rodgers. The Bogie to my Bacall. The Ricky to my Lucy. The Daddy to my Mommy.

You began as a friend and proceeded to partner. Fate bestowed you with fatherhood; but destiny -- destiny made you Daddy.

As I perused the “For My Husband” birthday cards, the tear-spawning, over-milked quote from Jerry Maguire (in lavishly flourished script, I might add) graced one notable and extremely oversized candidate. In theatrical context, the line plays well, but in real-life, the implication offends.

You’re no battery, cog or missing piece of a puzzle. Prior to our first encounter, I wasn’t a partial person. You don’t “complete me;” with panache to spare, you create “us.” 

Father Time, Daddy Warbucks, the Boston Pops, Dadaism, Papa Smurf…recognizable all, but none generate a fraction of the affectionate admiration due our paternal personage.

You’re the keeper of the peace. The holder of my heart. The father of our children.
I salute you…support you…love you.

On your birthday, and everyday.

Way Back When-esday: Fraternals in the Fall

Dateline: October 2006
Twins' Age: Freshly 5

Our pair picking pumpkins in Pre-K...precious!

What warms your heart this mid-week?
Why not peek back at the past and play along with Way Back When-esday?

Dive into those digital photos or scan a scrapbook find. Tell the tale and place a post on your blog. Be sure and link back to participate in the web-wide reverie...and leave a comment when you do!

Blog Dog or Computer Canine?

Skyping Samoyed. Larry logs on....

Makes My Monday: Girl and Boy, Pink and Blue...

Double Daddy is no bon-bon eating stay-at-home-dad; he is a motivated, interior improving man.

After nine years of sharing a room, and nine months of sharing a uterine duplex, our twins were ready to have a space to call their own. Tasked with selecting their wall colors, Sarah and Darren made surprisingly gender-specific choices!

He-Twin's sleep-space is Galactic Blue...

She-Twin's boudoir is Sassy* Pink.
[*Paint color aficionados may be able to decipher her raspberry-shaded room is actually Sexy Pink, but we put the kibosh on that designated name choice. It's "Sassy" for 9-year-olds.]

Daddy's loving elbow grease and the kids' appreciation of their new rooms and their Daddy's efforts, Make My Monday.

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Saturday Snapshot: Amazing Aunt!

Striding Sister-in-Law!
Smiling broadly at approximately the 7-mile-mark of the Richmond Suntrust Marathon (this point a mere two blocks from our house), Aunt Cathy makes running long-distances seem effortless! Running the half-marathon today (she injured her leg/hip a couple of weeks ago), at this point, she was easily in the top 50 women. We couldn't be prouder!

The Exhale

You want to be faithful...you ARE faithful.

You want to be confident and upbeat...you ARE confident and upbeat.

Yet, no matter your verve, your commitment, your belief, the never-goes-fully-away nagging is there.

Not unlike the still small voice that speaks the right and the positive into day-to-day living---in its persistence, there's an unwelcome corollary: the what-if whisper.

What if the scans reveal the cancer is back? What if it's inoperable this time? What if the kids lose their optimism for Daddy's full, long-life ahead freedom from melanoma? Worse, what if Daddy loses his?

So, you get in the car and you ride. You get to your destination. You hold hands through the parking garage walking to the clinic. You are seated in a sterile-looking room.You await the results. You giggle. Partially from nerves, but partially, happily, from the awareness that together you can---and will---handle whatever results the medicine man is about to reveal.

White coated and Clark Kent-ish, the charming doctor enters---cajoling and light-hearted. Ever-humorous, always direct, after a few polite minutes, Daddy asks the million-dollar question, "So...what of those scans?"

Brought back to task, the doctor with brief embarrassment shudders, "Oh, I'd never have come in joking if the news was bad! All looks clear. Some splenules (look 'em up) and some mildly enlarged but entirely unalarming nodes in your abdomen. We'll see you in three months for your next follow-up, but all is well."

All is astonishingly well. As Daddy and I followed our relieved, dancing children into a celebratory dinner, it was abundantly clear: all is so very well.

Thanks be to God. 

If your family has challenges that create "mental clutter," sometimes a concrete act of physically disposing of them can be healing and helpful. Adults and kids alike can benefit from "bagging it up." Before our February 2011 scans, I plan to have a few sacks available for the kids...and me! In the meantime, THANKSGIVING!

Way Back When-esday: Veterans and Valor

Dateline: December 8, 2007
Twins' Age: 6

Whether serving our country overseas, or serving our country's children by collecting Toys for Tots, this Veterans' Day, we salute America's servicemen and women.

Thank you not only for protecting our nation, but for giving us exampled opportunities to discuss sacrifice and honor with our children.

What warms your heart this mid-week?
Why not peek back at the past and play along with Way Back When-esday?

Dive into those digital photos or scan a scrapbook find. Tell the tale and place a post on your blog. Be sure and link back to participate in the web-wide reverie...and leave a comment when you do!




Did you play along with Way Back When-esday last week? Rather than 3 giveaway totes from FishfulThinking.com, we're giving away TEN---one to each blogger who played along. Simply send your mailing address via the "Contact" button above, and thanks for joining in!

Picking on the Presidents

From 3-year-old Sarah's insightful observation upon surveying her first (and yes, there have been many) placemat of the presidents, "Where are the LADY presidents?" to Darren's unabashed, long-term (5 years+ and counting) commitment to his Commander in Chief of choice, Chester A. Arthur, leaders of the free-world fascinate our twosome.

Lately, the name-calling typical of nine-year-olds has seeped into our normally sweet-speaking home. (Okay, maybe "normally sweet speaking" is an exaggeration, but name-calling IS new!)

Apparently, a position of power doesn't prohibit their pithy commentary.

Rather than pencilling in the pictured presidents' names on the blanks below, a wide open window was provided to word-play and wise-crack White House dwellers past and present. Some of the snark is basically bullying---based on empirically unfortunate aspects ---e.g. William "Chubs" Taft and Millard "Babyface" Fillmore. Others alliterative with pleasing pentameter ---e.g. Benjamin "Buttface" Harrison, Calvin "Cooler" Coolidge and William "Meaty" McKinley. However, a few express a clear affinity --- Abraham "Hunk Man" Lincoln and James "Lips" Madison. Granted "Buttface" and "Chubs" are not exactly nice, but a few (whose names have been changed, but may be less-than-innocent) are so double-plus un-nice and disrespectful (e.g. "Idiot", "Weirdo" and  "Ugly"), I am going to talk a little truth to power with our pair tomorrow over breakfast.

If only Bill Maher's, Keith Olberman's, Rush Limbaugh's and Sean Hannity's parents would've pondered the same...

Makes My Monday: Crayon Comrades

Cracking up, coloring kids Make My Monday.

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What else Makes My Monday? Giving all TEN folks who played along with last week's Way Back When-esday a FishfulThinking.com canvas tote bag! Were you one of them? Send a mailing address via the "Contact" button above...and thanks for playing along!

Church-bound Cherub

Never a stickler for Sunday dressing-to-the-nines, my laxity has been challenged by occasional attempts of ripped pants/filthy plastic shoes/unchanged underpants proffered as "good enough" garb for weekly worship.

Imagine my delight this day when She-Twin descended the stairs thusly Sabbath-styled...

Wishing all a similar Sunday moment of maternal pride.

Don't forget: Tomorrow is Makes My Monday! Ponder---and post upon---what will make this week wonderful.

Crime and Punishment

a.k.a. Sons and Sensibility. Dads and Discipline.

When he answered the phone, his typically humor-infused tone was subdued.

Dad (pointedly): "Did you tell Darren he could buy a book at the book fair today?

Mom (reaching for morning memory): "He asked for money as we were rushing out the door; I told him he needs to bring up those questions at more appropriate, more likely to receive a positive-response times."

Dad (redirecting, requestioning): "But did you tell him he could buy a book?

Mom (unsure of pending punishment for the defendant): "Well, no...."

Dad (dismissing the witness from the stand): "Okay."

When he answered the phone an hour later, his typically hijinks-infused tone was subdued.

Mom (cross-examining the defendant): "Did you buy a book today at the book fair?"

Darren (answering only the question asked): "Yes."

Mom (impatiently seeking motive and means): "You did? How did you pay for it?"

Darren (succinctly): "I took my own money."

Mommy (with correction, but sensing consequence had already been applied): "Darren, you are supposed to ask before you spend your money on anything. You know that."

Darren (with sadness): "I know. Daddy made me give it to Goodwill."

Mommy (with empathy, but curiosity): "What book was it?"

Darren (with sadness, but no wavering in his voice): "The Legos minifigures book."

Mommy (suppressing a waver in her voice): "I know how very badly you wanted that book. By giving that book away, you are going to make some lucky kid very happy. I do wish you had asked, Darren."

Darren: "Me too."

Mommy (seeking further explanation): "Can I please speak to Daddy?"

Darren (with resignation): "Sure."

Mommy (seeking clarification from the bench on the implemented penal system): "Honey, I didn't tell him he couldn't buy a book...I just told him to ask for money at more appropriate times..."

Daddy (authoritatively): "We had a lengthy conversation yesterday about the necessity for parental consent on any personal funds purchases."

Mommy (with resignation): "We've talked about that, too..."

Daddy (with justified finality): "After his lesson, we walked the perimeter at tae kwon do, discussing the prominently featured posters talking about the character traits and their definitions. He will not be participating in the [once a year, rare trophy opportunity] tournament this weekend."

How blessed I am to have a parenting partner who selflessly applies a consequence with impact, one that teaches a sure-to-be-remembered lesson on the import of following directions. How blessed are our children that their Dad cares far more about what they will become in the long-term, than what we will do for fun on the weekend.

Darren doesn't need to ogle minifigures in a book ill-gotten; he has a towering example to admire at home. So do I.

Way Back When-esday: Lean on Me

Dateline: January 2008
Twins' Age: 6

Supportive sibling skate mates warm my heart this mid-week.

Why not peek back at the past and play along with Way Back When-esday?

Dive into those digital photos or scan a scrapbook find. Tell the tale and place a post on your blog. Be sure and link back to participate in the web-wide reverie...and leave a comment when you do!



Three participants focusing on the postitive will receive a FishfulThinking tote and bookmark this week---join in!

No Gilt - Not Goal-ed

When my amazing agent and friend Erin Reel asked if I'd respond to a query for her incredible blog, The Lit Coach, I leapt at the chance. If you are looking for guidance and encouragement in the writing process, I cannot recommend her tutelage enough! The post below is my response to her question:

As a busy author, blogger and mother of twins, how important has setting clear, definable goals been in your writer's life?
Go ahead and consider it blasphemy if you wish, but goal-setting is not my mode.

The word goal assaults me from the page or screen; it’s too in my face. Intimidating. Daunting. Always dangling a threat of the elusive unachievable, or worse, the possible---even probable—likelihood of failure. Undeniably, the word tends to motivate others, but it resoundingly thwarts my typically Pollyanna-like confidence.

Semantics are important to writers...and equally important to folks like me, those more accurately defined as self-transcribing talkers. Using the word goal somehow provides leeway for rationalizing the inability to attain. A seeming excuse for the target missed, the finish line uncrossed. Yet the word dreams seems too ethereal; aspirations too lofty.

Strong desire dictates thoughtful discernment, so let’s talk terminology. If it’s a personal mandate, give your goal a new name. Re-title it a responsibility.

After all, goals imply trying. To quote an ancient Jedi master, which trust me, I don’t do often, “Do or do not. There is no try.”

As a ‘busy author, blogger, mother of twins,’ freelance writer, full-time ad agency post-production producer and wife of an amazing man fighting cancer, I have no goals. I have responsibilities. Duties. Priorities.

Setting clear definable “do’s” is not only important, it’s imperative---in my life as a writer, and as a woman.

 

Makes My Monday: Technology Triumph

a.k.a. Airport Antics.

Regular readers know we've been picture poor as late---due to the untimely death of our digital camera. The Lumix met its match on the hard, hateful floor of Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta.

How many times has Double Daddy saved the day? Too numerous to count. Our new Canon? Retrieved the memory from the former photo-provider's last moments.

Laughter un-lost Makes My Monday.

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Did you know we regularly---and looking to do so more regularly---feature twins on the Q&A page of this blog? The stand-along support site formerly known as Twinsights has rolled into Twinfatuation. Let us hear from you!