ya gotta do what'cha gotta do

He didn't want to go outside when Miles asked. He wanted nothing to do with it, actually.

Until he remembered what happens when they come in from outside.
His thoughts were something like this...Oh yeah...the warm-up cocoa...
which brought on
this...

{as he's running away he's saying, and then I really want hot cocoa}

{and that little blip of me at the end is from an old video I posted and am now trying to record over. Please forgive}

{and just pretend my storage space office is super clean and orderly}

So. We put on pants and then socks and then snow pants and then a coat and then he added a scarf (of mine) and then a hat (of Daddy's) and then two mismatched mittens and then boots and then he went out for no longer than 5 minutes and then he was back at the sliding glass door shouting for cocoa.

And I quote, "I want cocoooaaaa, it's sooo coooold." (Repeat x 5)

The End.


P.S. All credit for that rockin' cool new blog header up there goes to my friend Sarah, who saved me from trying to do things I don't know how to do by doing them for me because she knows how to do them. And another thank you to the lovely Ann Imig, who came up with a tag line that I love. My heart. My gut. My boys. Indeed. And finally, a photo credit is due--Miles (yes, my very own 5 year old), my photog, snapped this Lego man photo on his very own. He's a genius.

bears

My boys have been fighting about who gets to sit on the far end of the couch for about ten minutes. There is much growling and gnashing of teeth. Somehow this spot on the couch has become very special and this is a very heated discussion. Each of them have great logic for why they are the one that should sit on that spot.

Humans are just too much.

I'm not intervening unless someone gets hurt. I'm all about not hovering or mirco-managing. Or maybe I'm just feeling extra lazy today. It could totally be that.

Yesterday on Twitter Casey and I were lamenting winter. She's pregnant too and she said, hibernation and gestation is the name of the game. Now that keeps running through my head and making me feel better because I'm an exhausted gestating mother in the winter in Minnesota and I kind of wish I were a bear because that would be a good excuse for all the hibernating I'm doing.

But then I thought about the question my nephew Zach asked about hibernating bears recently. If they sleep all winter, how do they go to the bathroom? I laughed and then I thought the answer was that their bodies probably shut down so completely that they don't even go. But then I thought that maybe they do still go in their sleep and gross. I had never really thought about it before.

What I do know is that I don't even come close to knowing everything. So I can't say for sure about the bears and I don't know which boy should get the far end of the couch or how to get them to see that it doesn't matter.

And even so, I'm glad I'm not actually hibernating and that I'm here listening to squabbling about spots on the couch instead. Until I'm sick of it. Then I'll growl like a bear for it to stop.

hiccup block

There are many options for attempting to get rid of a bad case of the hiccups:

1. Eating a spoonful of peanut butter
2. Eating a spoonful of sugar
3. Eating a spoonful of frozen OJ concentrate
4. Putting a paper towel over a glass and drinking through said paper towel*
5. Plugging your ears and nose and having someone feed you a glass of water while your hands are otherwise occupied with the plugging of orifices*
   
6. Drinking a glass of water upside down-ish (Don't ask, it's hard to explain in writing.)*
7. Holding your breath while swallowing three times
8. Blowing up a balloon, especially when you don't know how
9. Taking the deepest breath ever and then forcing yourself to swallow when you absolutely cannot hold your breath any longer
10. Or I suppose you could just wait, but this has become my least favorite idea.
    

(The *'s are for the ones I had heard of before but had forgotten. The rest? I had no idea.)

This is what a girl learns when she feels she has tried everything to help her child end his longest bout ever with the involuntary spasms that are hiccups, but then she asks Twitter for help.

My tweet: "Yo, how do you treat a bad case of the hiccups, tweeps?" (Or something like that.)

All of the above suggestions came right after I asked The Twitter this question and one of them worked immediately. Wanna guess which one it was? (It was given to me by my pal Allison of OMyFamily.)

(She should win a prize, that's what Miles says.)

~~~~~

I was just sitting here trying to think of the last time I wrote something meaningful and then I felt like I haven't written anything worth reading in a long time and then I wondered why and then I started to doubt that I'll ever write anything creative or even somewhat good-ish in this space ever again and then I decided to just shut my head off and write some run-on sentences and then tell you about hiccups. Who knows? Maybe I've saved a life. That would be important and meaningful. Hiccuping can be dangerous.

Sometimes finding inspiration for writing anything anywhere is as tricky as finding the right remedy for a child that has hiccuped for hours and hours. Sooner or later it will just come out of nowhere, most likely from someone you love.

I'm tired. Can you tell? I spent a couple of days at I_Blog and let me just say that it was a lovely time. I should keep it at that for now. Because obviously I should go to bed.

Peace.

OH, P.S. The answer to the hiccup thing? Number 6. Um...you know, the one that's hard to explain, soooo....use your imagination?

You're welcome.

P.P.S. Ryan just told me that the woman who held the record for having the hiccups the longest murdered someone. So there you have it. I probably did save a life.

type-a moms are...

I had the honor of speaking at the Type-A Mom Conference in Asheville, North Carolina last weekend. I had such a great time, I really did. If you're considering conferences in your future, this is an excellent choice, yes, even if you are SO not Type-A, like moi. The sessions were informative, enriching and inspiring, the location was beautiful and the size and flow of the conference itself were just perfect. A big thank you to Kelby for all the hard work making this gig happen. Lady, it was so good.

~~~~~
I thought I'd take a moment to tell you what Type A moms are like.
In an effort to keep you informed. Ahem...


Type-A moms are:


always connected...

Arianne

and creating...

Allie

and energetic...

Danielle

and fantastic...

Katherine

Megan

Sara Sophia

Ashleigh

and willing to eat fancy desserts with me...

maple vanilla cake at French Broad Chocolate Lounge (I ate every last bite)

~~~~~

And now,


I thought I'd share what a not-so Type A mom looks like out on the town...






FIERCE...


Isn't it so sad the photo is blurry?

(I think not.)


Also. More yummies. Just for funsies...



And lastly...ahem....

Can you guess the true identities of any of these beauties?

I just wanted to be sure to let you know that every single one of these masked women tried to steal my Gussy bag right off of my person. ("My person" being...me.) But I would have none of it.

But who wouldn't try to grab up some Gussy, really?



All I have to say about that is...Gussy for Christmas, yo.

~~~~~
Yesterday was a really big day over here at the House of EO. Let's just say that there was a camera and lighting and microphones attached to our shirts.

No, not a reality show, friends.

More soon...

a new roof=entirely different house (with glimpses of other works in progress)

First glimpse (isn't glimpse a weird word?) (Gu-limp-sah)
Dining Lighting (and orange curtains and gray paint)

About one hundred years ago, I started a new "series" here on the EO called One Room at a Time. The idea was to show you a before and after photo as we finish updating each room of our not-so-new-to-us-anymore house. I said that we were doing one room every weekend. (I have no idea why I would say such a completely ridiculous and unfeasible thing.)

We've been plugging away slowly but surely (and sporadically) on The House of EO, yo. So...I haven't completely forgotten about the One Room at a Time thing. It's just that we have yet to entirely finish even one room since the office. If we were artists that paint, let's just say that we'd be the type of painters that draw something out and start to fill in the green of the grass or the blue of the sky and then suddenly we'd start filling in all the gaps on the whole canvas with random splatters. Or something.

So I probably should have titled this adventure Multiple Parts of Multiple Rooms at Lots of Different Times.

And now, even though you've most likely completely forgotten the stupid series thing since I know you've been waiting on pins and needles and with bated breath and are probably tired of this overwhelming sense of anticipation you've been enduring, I will share some teeny tiny glimpses of our many works in progress with you.

dining chairs (Target clearance)


den/living room throw pillows (Target)

kitchen backsplash (glass tile) (special purchase-Home Depot)
(very freshly grouted)
(that was my way of explaining the speckles)
(speckles-another weird word)

hanging lights (Menards clearance)

love seat (Macy's clearance)

Ikea coffee table

Ikea frame with Charley Harper calendar page

I know. I know. I just showed you pretty much nothing. That's because every room is pretty much a work in progress, much like yours truly, so the big picture, the rooms as a whole, well...they're...not even close to done (like I said, much like yours truly).

I'll share photos of the rooms in their entirety (the paint colors are WOW, by the way) when it's all finished. (So, in about another hundred years or so.)

In the meantime, we Ryan built a shed. (He rocks the Handy Man party.) And I already told you that he and the boys built a playhouse. My point? We get sidetracked a lot. We could be simply finishing painting a room or hanging curtains or something...but no...

Shed in progress

I'm kind of sort of not that good at decision-making. So I'm very grateful for our family friend, Sharon. She is exceptionally gifted in all things creativity and home decor. She LOVES to help people decorate/update/renovate their homes. She's pretty much made all the decisions for me and I love it that way. I fully trust her intuition and expertise.

And she game me this:

owl cookie jar (his name is Oatmeal Raisin)

Now, to end this riveting tour,
let us close with a before and after
of the outside of our humble abode,
shall we?



Before (about NINE months ago) (How'd THAT happen?)

Now. Before you scroll down for the after photo...be warned that the garage doors have not yet been painted. So...it looks a bit wonky, but we'll get there. In about one hundred years...




ARE YOU READY?




I KNOW! YOU CAN'T STAND IT!



...



Remember that one time, when I mentioned that my Contractor Dad and his employees and my Ryan were replacing the roof?

Yeah. They did. And we love it. And then just yesterday, Ryan and my Dad painted it...




...





I'm going to show it to you...




...





...







NOW!!!

I told you to ignore the garage doors!
(and also, the blue turned out a bit brighter than we expected)
(whoops)



the entry is my favorite

These pictures just really can't do it justice. Or wait. This photographer can't do it justice. There was a tree and lighting I didn't know what to do with...so...I should take a class or something.

Anyway. You get the idea.

Thank you for checking out my gah-limp-saz.

The End.

{The stores I've mentioned have nothing to do with this post. I'm just letting you know where we shop so if you're a stalker you'll know where to look for us in case you really like something and want to know where to get it.}

The Minnesota Bloggers Conference (Alternate Title: I came. I spoke. I survived.)

All week I tried to prepare for speaking to my Minnesota blogging cronies. I tried and tried and felt more and more scattered and then more and more anxious due to the unpreparedness.

I got in the elevator on Saturday morning with Minnesota JoY (who saved me in the parking lot by generously giving me the parking fee I neglected to remember to bring) and Matt Logelin and Chris Ann from LoveFeast Table. That was a really good start.

I asked Matt if he was
ready for his keynote.
He said no.
I felt better.

(Did you notice how I just said that last thing Logelin-style?)

(Am clever.)

Check out the lovely place we were able to call home all day Saturday. (A big thank you to CoCo for allowing a bunch of Internet Geeks to take over their space.)







Yeah, you betcha. I want to work there. The commute would be Uff Da Long, but the huge windows with their light, the brick, the hardwood...I was a bit swoony.

Moving on.

It felt so good to be surrounded by so many people I've come to know through blogging (and The Twitter), and every one was so...well...Minnesota Nice. (No, not the fake-ish passive-aggressive nice, but true and genuine KINDNESS. It was everywhere.)

(she actually IS all things bright and beautiful, my friend Elle.)

Steph, this one's for you...

This is Molly. I know that you can see that she's gorgeous,
but I get to tell you that her loveliness
is all over her insides, too.

And yes, I did some speaking. I like to call it rambling. I had notes, the ones I tried and tried to put together with no success, but I think I only looked at them twice. And I think it went okay. I stood up, I said some things and I hope (a lot) that those things helped someone in the room. It was more than an honor to talk to this particular crew of people, I'll just keep it to that. Except to say a huge-mongous thank you to those of you who attended my session. You rock the party.

(In the 2nd photo I'm saying vroom vroom while pretending to push a car around.
I'm the mother of 2 boys. I just can't stop doing that.)

Lastly. I don't know how to tell you about Matt's keynote. Here are just a few words to describe it: inspiring, authentic, humble, hilarious, moving, creative, hilarious, sad, good, hopeful and hilarious. Thank you, Matt. You are the real deal, fine sir. I'm glad to know you.

Matt, being introduced by Missy, one of the hard-working
creators of the event.

This coming weekend the Gala and 5k to raise money for the Liz Logelin Foundation are a-happenin' in The Minneapolis. If you're local-ish...come and support this endeavor to help shower a little grace on families who have lost a partner and parent. (click Gala and 5k above for details)


Matt's keynote ended the conference on the perfect well-spoken note. He talked about community, the very thing that, for many of us, defines blogging.

I know I said "lastly" but this conference did not change the fact that I'm wordy and scattered, so one last thing...

I need to show you my new Gussy bag (pronounced baaayg). It was so good to see Maggie and then throw all of my super important items from my old bag to the new. It's beautiful, this lady's work. Hand sewn and quality beautiful things, that's what she provides. But you knew that...


I loved Saturday.

The End.

these are merely helpful suggestions...

{This post was written in the spirit of Letters From a Nut by Ted L. Nancy. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, there's a small chance this could still be funny. This was written one night in the hotel room while at BlogHer, when Ellie and I were at our giddiest. You're welcome.}

~~~~~~~~

Dear Blogging Conference,

We wanted to write to you today to express some gratitude, opinions, questions and ideas. As your conference comes to a close, we find ourselves reflecting on our weekend and we are filled with many over-flowing emotions.

Please give this letter to the highest of higher ups, so they can know about these emotions. We are the people. We are the bloggers. We are tired, and even so, we deserve to be heard, we the people-bloggers.

As a side note, please be sure to consider our status in this subculture. We are known. No less than one to five people rushed up to us and wanted to say hello in the last few days. If you think about how there are millions and millions of blogs out there, one to five admirers is really a lot.

Of course we want to thank you. We bet this whole event-planning thing is terribly difficult and even tricky. Thank you for making a way for us to have this precious time together in person:

Tandem Tweeting

We admit it's a little awkward for bloggers to communicate in person, but as you can see, that can be remedied. So we share this picture with you as a suggestion for future attendees. Side-by-side tweeting gets all that strange eye contact and body language stuff out of the picture. It's more comfortable, you know? Especially if you can swing it on a plush hotel bed--make it a double!

@onecraftyellie - I M tired.

@HeatheroftheEO - Me 2
@onecraftyellie - remember that one time when I danced at the sparklecorn party?

@HeatheroftheEO - I wasn't there.

@onecraftyellie - Oh. Just a second. I'm going to tweet @maggiedammit & @annsrants to see if they remember

@HeatheroftheEO - OK. I'm going to pull the covers up higher now. am a bit chilly.

@onecraftyellie - stop tweeting me. I'm trying to tweet @maggiedammit & @annsrants to see if they liked my dancing.

@HeatheroftheEO - Jerk. End tweet.

There you have it. 140 characters or less of complete comfort.

Anyway. We would also like to apologize on behalf of ourselves and all the other attendees. We realize that our feet bled all over the hotel sheets while we were sleeping and you probably had to pay for that. But it was inevitable really. I mean, if you pack 7 pairs of high heels and put them on feet that don't recognize such shoes, you get what you asked for--goiter blisters within 5 minutes. So about those stains--may we suggest those wipes that are supposed to remove stains, the ones that were in a swag bag? Maybe those will work on the sheets? Just a thought.

Speaking of thoughts. We have some really good ones! We love community keynotes. There's nothing like hearing the actual voice (as in audible, not figurative) of our fellow bloggers. The posts that were read were moving and sometimes heart-wrenching and then sometimes funny. So we thought it might be cool if the blogger's name and their blog and twitter handle could be written up on the screen the whole time they talk. We are bloggers. We are somewhat creative. Which means we are scattered and we forget things like names really quickly, especially when overstimulated. Thank you.

(To clarify--we don't mean that you should write on the big screens with a sharpie or something. We mean you could project the words to the screen from an overhead or something of that nature.)

Also. Could you tell the hotel employee who was checking badges at lunch on Saturday that I (Heather) should not have had to take my name badge out of my lanyard thingy to prove I could eat there? He had me take my attendee name badge out from behind the CLEAR plastic, and then he inspected it like an airport security person does. Do I look threatening? It got wrinkled from trying to get it out and I don't like wrinkled things (especially noses, for the record). Thanks!

Next up: Let's talk elevators. There was something terribly frustrating about the elevator system. Tell the hotel we don't know why the elevators hated us. I'm pretty sure we could have gotten more swag had we not spent half the day waiting for elevators and then being surprised to find ourselves in the opposite corner of the hotel when we would step off, far away from our intended destination, in chafing heels.

(Just so you know the truth, we almost never wore heels, actually. Only for those first five minutes. I'm guessing this is the case for many attendees. Maybe you can tell the hotel people that if they're mad about the sheets.) (And maybe you should tell next years attendees not to bring any heels. If we all went heel-less no one would care or compare. You know how women are about comparing their shoes. It will be The Great Heel Ban of BlogHer '11--so exciting!)

We have another idea. Maybe next year you could create some kind of really large sign (this time, with a sharpie!) that explains what blogging is to all the other hotel guests. It's terribly exhausting to feel so misunderstood while explaining over and over.

Like this:

Stranger: Why are there so many of you with those name badges on?

Blogger: It's a blogging conference.

Stranger: Blank stare (almost as bad as a wrinkled nose) or a confused expression or a "what does that mean?" Or a, "What do you do at a blogging conference?"

Awkward. We've seen sharpies change the course of history before. We're pretty sure it can happen again. You're welcome.

One last thing. Can you let everyone from the Change Agents session know that when Maggie said (from the panel and into a microphone) -"Oh, I don't know. I can't speak to alcoholism...," she was being sarcastic. You see, when the topic of alcoholism was approached, she was simply using her sense of humor to disarm the listeners...but no one laughed. This leads us to believe they did not get the joke. So we think people should know that her alcoholism has not gone away.

Oh. One more last thing. When blogging events are in big cities (and they usually are, let's just be honest) every attendee should be given some sort of portable GPS, maybe as swag?!? We saw many bloggers standing on street corners looking up and around with confused expressions while wearing little black dresses and heels...you can see where we're going with this. Getting lost=walking a long ways=bloody heels and toes=stained sheets.

Sincerely,

Ellie and Heather (room 620) (with Alexis) (she's the pretty one)

P.S. Wait. We just had the best idea ever. Next year, we should all wear lanyard HATS!!! Fashionable hats, of course...with our name and blog name in very big red Sharpie letters. That way, we won't have to stare down at one another's chests or navels as discreetly as possible to see if we're matching the in real life face with the online avatar/profile pictures correctly. (Awkward.) If we had this information on hats, well, I'm sure you could imagine how that would be easier. When glancing at names, we could all just act like we're looking around, high up. Again, you are welcome.

xoxo

I love ya, tomorrow

I have a boy here who eats broccoli and puts himself to bed when he's tired. (Yes, I follow him to tuck and kiss, who do you think I am, Miss Hannigan?) (Annie, people. Stick with me, here. I'm talking about that mean orphanage lady from Annie.) (Although, Miss Hannigan did love alcoholic beverages...but that's our only similarity, I hope.) (No worries, I haven't fallen off the wagon.)

Anyway. Check it...








It's a hard-knock life.

(The title of this post is also from Annie and is not meant to lead you to believe that something really amazing is happening tomorrow. But there is one thing. We get to go see my Grandma. Hi Gram! Love you!)

Happy weekend, friends.

I hear the click and feel the whoosh and I'm ready to (step-step) walk through that door

Hi, my name is Heather and I'm here because I have a story to tell. Actually, pretty much everything I'm experiencing as of late is coming alive with what my friend Ann calls a fireworks display of story-telling. I feel like a bit of a spectator to myself, while I watch doors opening like I never even once dreamed they would.

Click, the locks are turned and the creak of the swinging door blasts through my ears while I wait for the BANG! It's exhilarating and shocking and terrifying. I sit dumbfounded at the chance to share my entire story, all that my heart-gut leads me to tell, through a book.

I will meet with an agent in New York City while I am there for the BlogHer conference. I will sign my name. And then I will surrender to the chaos of life as I juggle writing, motherhood, being a wife, blogging and speaking engagements, and oh yes, sobriety.

(You should see it, the way I run circles, it's highly entertaining.)

I am in the blogging world to tell my story, of addiction, motherhood, surrender and truth. This crazy and mixed up online world has always been my place for transparency. I want to connect and inspire, and I remind my readers of that quite often. Thankfully, so far, many of you are along for the ride and support me with such grace, it's astounding, really. And because of you, a completely talented and passionate agent discovered this space. Please know, I think it's because of you, receiving my words the way that you do and inspiring me to continue to pour out my heart and soul in this space.

My story is unfolding rapidly, as we speak. I am on a roller coaster ride like never before, toward publishing a book. This is what makes my story unique-this rapid pace and me, who I am. There is only one Heather with only one voice. She is the only one who can describe addiction and motherhood in her particular way. The only one who can answer the emails and watch lives change because of the telling of her truths. She is open, like a lake, to the enormous potential of this calling. She is free, finally, to fill in the gaps and stand in-between and bellow out words that miraculously cause change. Every day, more emails of change. Not because of her, but through her.

Yes, there she is, doing that. Not on her own but through a divine calling she never expected.

She is me, and I'm here to tell my story.

(and she never likes to toot her own horn, but she's trying hard to believe, to really believe. So thank you for putting up with her.)

{This post is my submission to be considered in an endeavor called Project Mom Casting. I am entering this post to be considered for casting in a television reality series, oh yes I am. Have I lost my mind? I think not. I'm simply willing and able to take this ride if given the chance, to tell my story. I would love to be a part of the first reality TV show focused on mom bloggers with stories to tell (and we all have one). If you'd like to be considered, check out the Project Mom Casting facebook page for details.}

Friends. Oh, friends. This comment section? Right down there? It embodies grace like so many things, and yet stands all on its own with your support. It is why, YOU are why, I'm invested in this online community.

all that cake'll rot your teeth

All this time, I've been photoshopping our teeth. We actually have terrible dental hygiene.

Just thought you should know.

___________

Also. A little while ago, I shared the details of my Motherhood and Addiction story over at Missy's place. The comments were open for questions. A Hazelden expert has answered those questions today, if you'd like to take a look.

Thank you all for your birthday wishes for Asher earlier today. You rock the birthday party.

stupid freaking balance

balance
should
discipline
and
moist

I am not the biggest fan of these words.

All of them are elusive (a word I do like).

Well, okay, maybe not moist, that's not elusive...it's just icky.

I've written about how I feel about balance many times, about how unattainable it is. If I'm going to mother, I'm going to have an UNbalanced life, that's the reality. And either I can accept that, or get swallowed in the anger and tension of trying to fight for a balance that remains out of reach no matter how DISCIPLINED I am.

I'm getting a tiny bit better at this acceptance thing, but man, some days I just want to scream at should and discipline and balance. Like a mad woman-just screaming until my furrowed forehead and wide open mouth get stuck in their angry wrinkle-inducing expressions.

Maybe that's what I should do, just discipline myself to let it all out, going off and out of control on freaking balance. Yeah, just scream in the face of balance and then move on, relaxing a bit in the tension of my UNbalanced life.

After all, my unbalanced life is just as it should be, wonky and messy and scattered and good. It's just fine to get mad at the exhaustion of spinning around in such grace-giving crazy-making, as long as I can see that less time for me will not always be less and it is not less even now.

Okay, then. I should stop now. Apparently the lack of balance has stolen my ability to make sense.

~~~~~

make a meal
write a book
change the laundry
paint the house
make the call
return the favor
read the books
walk the dog
break up fights
make up beds
connect
sweep the floor
wipe the butt
turn on the air
see the dust
tell the joke
play the game
give the bath
wipe the floor
button the shirt
lock the door
open the windows
get the snack
hugs and kisses
say prayers
watch the show
pick new cabinets
meditate
listen
journal
tidy
bake
enroll
sneeze
scrub
console
yawn
give
sleep short
stay sober
get groceries
worry
return the movie
fill the cup
smile
goodnight

We people
we women
we mothers
so unbalanced
no shoulds
what discipline?
we're good.
no guilt
no shame
just love.

"look for the beauty that can be found...in setting up the pins and knocking them down." -Sara Groves

please keep your extremeties inside the ride at all times and vote daily

Obviously, I could not think of a title for this post.

Allison called me to let me know. (Because she is so often my brain and has figured out by now that I would most likely be oblivious if left on my own without her brain.) Her message said, You've been nominated in two categories for a BlogLuxe Award. I just wanted you to know they have your link wrong on the site. Congratulations! (Of course, her lovely humility prevented her from also telling me that she herself is nominated in 2 categories.) (GO ALLISON!)

All I heard was, "You've been nominated." And then I was just completely confused. Me? Huh? Wha?

I found out my (also nominated-for Rage Against the Minivan) friend Kristen (thank you, lady) is one of the people who nominated The Extraordinary Ordinary for this lovely thing~

(this is a picture I stole from the very deservingly nominated, Casey of Moosh in Indy who had the photo from the amazing picture-taking machine, Beth (also nominated since she rocks.))
(Also. I'm not nominated in the Eye Candy category, but you get the idea-it's a picture of the awards.)

I'm going to cut to the chase now, folks. Cut to the chase...what a weird phrase. Is that a phrase, or am I making two different phrases into a new phrase like we have a tendency to do in our family...

Sheesh, I don't know...I can't remember, and you'd think I would, it's not brain rocketry.

Anyway. It truly is an honor to be nominated along-side the crew of amazing bloggers/friends in my two categories (Most Inspiring Blog and Blog You've Learned the Most From).

*cutting to the chase cutting to the chase*

Last night I sent out a mass email begging for votes. And now I want to stick forks in my head for doing that. At the time, I didn't see that Violence Unsilenced is also nominated in the Inspirational category.

So hear me now, friends. GO VOTE FOR VIOLENCE UNSILENCED.

This is not just a ploy to get you to think that I'm soooo kind and altruistic, asking you to vote for someone else in an effort to make you think I'm so awesome that you'll actually still vote for me in the end. NO. (Let's all just pretend that made sense, I'm in a rush.)

I honestly believe any of the sites nominated deserve to win and I'd be happy for whoever does win. This blogging thing is not a big deal to the majority of the world, but to a blogger who shares their life, their stories and truths on the worldwide web, this nomination is an honor. It's a nod of recognition for heart-words and that rocks.

That said, I want your votes for Violence Unsilenced because it is a truly beautiful and important place in a way that makes it stand up and out while it screams love and redemption. It is the voice for people who may have had no other way of telling their truths, their stories of abuse. That, my friends, is a beautiful thing that deserves to be recognized because with truth-telling comes freedom. This is one way we could all thank Maggie for creating and moderating that space for all the right reasons.

Please go vote for Violence Unsilenced in the Most Inspiring Blog category:

The voting page is self-explanatory. You just click on the dot next to Violence Unsilenced. Then click submit at the bottom of the page. At that point you'll be asked for your email address. This is safe. They will not sell your email-it's only to ensure that people only vote one time per daily. You'll then get an email in which you click on the confirmation and then your vote counts. Easy peasy. Do it every day. Please.


(Dad and Grandma and Auntie Kay, don't worry. You can still vote for me for Blog You've Learned the Most From if you'd like. Because let's be honest...people have learned a lot here. Like how I only grow hair in one armpit and I've showered with a tarantula. Really important stuff.)

(And hopefully a little something about addiction or motherhood or faith or life or Peeps marshmallow birdies.)

Let me say it again. I'm so honored to be nominated. In my silly mass email, I said that I'm especially honored to be nominated along-side the blogging equivalent of Meryl Streep. A whole bunch of Meryl Streeps. Truly. Honor. The End.

**Comments are closed on this post. Please take the time to go vote!**
Thank you, friends.

magical characters

A good friend called recently and told me that she woke up one morning with characters having a conversation in her head. (No, she's not hallucinating...she's imagining. Which is totally different. Kind of.)

She said that a story just up and started to unfold, right there, without her trying to conjure it up, and that these characters continue their own story every day all on their own. She simply writes down what they're doing and saying after she listens in on them.

Back when we had this conversation, my friend had written over 250 pages. In 3 weeks.

Dude.

She had no dream or intention of writing a book. It just kinda happened to her, and now she's got the bug and she just can't stop thinking about her book and she can't stop writing.

Uh yeah, I'm totally jealous. I'm not gonna lie.

I do want to write a book. I've wanted to write a book for a really long time. Trouble is, whenever I have an idea, it's usually non-fiction and my passion for it quickly wanes. Or maybe my confidence fizzles out. Or maybe both.

In the last few months, I've been fantasizing about writing fiction for the first time in my life.

So. Since talking to my friend, when I wake up each morning, I open one eye and peek around the room, hoping my characters have arrived. They haven't shown up yet. I kind of want to call out for them, but because I haven't met them, I don't know their names. And also, Ryan would think that I've finally totally and completely lost my mind if I was yelling out random names and then he would send me to an institution and even though that sounds kind of nice and a little like a vacation in which I don't cook, I don't want to go.

Anyway, I can't think of anything (besides mothering and wifing, duh) that I'd rather do than to get lost in writing a book. Even if I really don't have any idea how to write a book. I figure I'll take my heart with me on the journey and just spill it out....once Carmen and Lindy show up.

Nope. Those aren't the right names for my characters either, I was just trying them out.

By the way, you don't have to tell me that an idea will come in time and be patient and all that. And you don't have to tell me that I'd be good at writing a book even though I have no "training" and would make an editor want to stick forks in his eyes. You don't have to say anything. Unless it's a killer plot idea. Like maybe magical characters visited you in the wee hours of morning, but you just have no time to write and so you want to pass your brilliant gift of a story on to me. You can totally do that.

Also. About my friend: I'm truly happy for her. What a gift! She is a friend I've had for years, I was her maid of honor on her wedding day, she totally gets me and I her, and I love her.
And guess what? Her main character's name is Miles and yes, he's named after my firstborn. (ahem. royalties.)

Maybe this name fact will be my one and only writing claim to fame after my friend's book hits the big-time. And you know what? That would be enough.

(Did you get that? That was me, shoving away my jealousy and being a gracious friend.)

(But only because she named her miraculous morning visitor character after my boy.)

(That was a joke. Kind of.)

(And yes, Ann. I'm also mad at you for your incredible talent and passion and sudden book-writing.)

(I'll stop with the stupid parentheses now.)

(See? I should NOT write a book.)

(And I call myself a wrogger, which means I'm saying I'm half writer-who do I think I am?)

Actually, it felt more like a shoe hit my head. Or a toaster.

This is Heather.

She's not naked. Her dress is strapless. But you knew that.

Yes. Yet another Heather born in the 70's. Heather is one of my dearest friends, and she was married last weekend. It was a beautiful day full of bluegrass music and sun and friends and family. I love my Heather, and have since elementary school. We're Heather squared, or The Heathers.

The day before the wedding, I happened upon a new shoppe in the small town in which we live. I opened the door with low expectations. After all, this is rural Minnesota so let's just say the shopping is...limited.

And then a miracle occurred.


Well, okay. Maybe it wasn't a miracle. I mean, I don't even really LIKE shopping much at all. But do you wanna know what I do like? Knowing that all I have to do is go to ONE store and I will love everything and the prices won't make me ask why I'm supposed to give over my first born, and I might even feel giddy about the purchases I make. Which is not usually something I feel when shopping.

This is what I purchased

Friends, Miles took this photo, so if you're wondering if I'm shrinking or if my posture is even worse than it already was, no. I am trying to get myself hunkered down so he can get me in the photo. He's a good little photographer, but he's still short.

The dress? $40. The jewelry? $15 for all. Uh huh.

(Before I forget and the Blogging Gods strike me down, I will disclaim you-that's totally a phrase-and let you know that Lillian's is not paying me to share this information with you. I just want you to know because I love that place. You can click on the link to see if there's a location near you.)

Anyway. The dress is my favorite that I've ever purchased. Ever.

The reason we came across this fabulous new store is because we were at the outdoor market downtown, and there it was, right there, smiling at me-the Lillian's sign that led me to my favorite shoppe ever. I'm not just saying that. And also, I must mention the friendly and probably kind of scared of me staff. They rock. (Hi Stacey!)


We went back to the market this week, because we're smart and we know that it's there weekly. It wasn't as much fun at all, though. My boys were hopped up on sugar, which was totally my fault since I fed them sugar. Their ears weren't working and I brought them into Lillian's and they kept hiding in and under things. LOVE THAT. (sarcasm) So we went back outside and had more sugar. After that, for some reason, the boys were even crazier and so I said, "Alright then, we're leaving. If you can't listen we have to go now." So I stomped off with them slowly trailing behind. (That way, I could have a really good time calling over my shoulder KEEP WALKING. FOLLOW MOMMY.)

And then the opposite of a miracle happened. Something hit me in the head and I was all, OWWHATWASTHAT? My natural reaction was to put my hand on the spot that was bonked. What I found there surely surprised me.

More bird poop than should ever be found in anyone's hair, ever, that's what I found. It was down one side of my head and my pants, and now on my hand. I was stunned speechless.

We got back to the van, after walking another half a block while people slowed to stare at my head, and I started to hurriedly rifle through the perfectly clean and tidy (sarcasm) van for the wipes. I found them. And I used what was left of the package to try to pull poop out of my hair.

Prepare yourself for this next part...



There were worms in it.

Seriously. WHAT KIND OF BIRD WAS THIS? I never saw it, but I know this for sure...it was huge, and it has trouble with digestion.

So there I sat, trying to figure out how to drive while also concentrating on keeping my head tilted to the right to be sure my poop hair didn't touch my cheek.

I turned to pull out of my parking spot (in which I had parallel parked flawlessly, by.the.way.) and that's when I saw her, getting out of her car and heading toward the market. I honked, and with tilted head, I called out to her,

MOOOOOMMY!!!! (Okay, I didn't call her Mommy, I called her Mom...but I really wanted my Mommy.)

And then I did something I've never done before. I said the "S" word in front of both my children and my mom. Because friends, that IS what was in my hair and it was a bit traumatizing. So it just came out.

MOM, A BIRD S*#T ON MY HEAD.

She didn't even scold me or put soap in my mouth. She just cleaned the rest of the poop out and then totally freaked out when I showed her a worm in a wipe.

I love my Mommy.

The End.


Oh P.S. This is what I usually do when the boys have been given too much sugar and it's raining. Sorry, hardware store people...