One Line. . .1

School has taken over my life.

Facebook has become my message board to the world.  My little Facebook world, anyway.  It is much quicker to post a picture and make a quick status update than to create an entire blog post.  But I miss the writing, the personal reflection, the string of multiple thoughts that form as I write them and turn into something so much more than I sat down to write.  Like this post, for instance.  Who knows yet what it will become!

I have heard a million times that to be a writer you must write.  Every day.  Yeah, I don't do that.  The "writer" in me has gotten buried under the student, mother, wife, aspiring teacher roles (among others). I miss her.

I read some advice today about how to make your life happier by starting at home.  I am absolutely a believer that if your home is orderly your life will feel more orderly and vice versa.  Along with an orderly home, this person suggests that everyone should take time at the end of the day to reflect and jot down one line of gratitude for the day.  Positive thoughts beget positive thoughts.

In school we do a lot of reflection.  To be a good teacher, one must be willing to ponder what it is that is working and what isn't, and then be willing to be flexible.  We read a lot about how to better ourselves so we can help better the lives around us.

The last year has held so much growth for me. My relationship with myself has improved a hundred fold.  A lot of reflection has brought me to where I am today and will surely propel me into the future.  I have learned that once you are willing to really look inside yourself and question every last thing you see, really question why you think that and what that means and how that impacts who you are, inside your own head, inside your circle of family and friends, inside your community and greater world at large, you learn things.  It's scary.  But if you can really decided what you are willing to stand behind and what you need no part of, if you accept your weaknesses AND your strengths, if you own your life instead of letting others define you, it gets less scary.  It gets pretty great, actually.  The added bonus to being totally comfortable within yourself? The world becomes a better place, full of fabulous people and wonderful potential.  I like my world.

I have plenty of self-improving to do, no one is ever done with that, but when I look back to even one year ago I see how far I've come, and it inspires me to keep going.

It also inspires me to take back that which I have given up, my writing time.  Even if it is only one line of gratitude each day.  Ha! I set out to write one line of gratitude about my day and ended up with a whole post.  Apparently the writer inside me thinks she has things to say.  We shall see. . .

Day One:

Today I am grateful for. . . (sheesh, I have been sitting here for several minutes trying to pick just one--It's very hard!) great, intelligent friends whom I admire, who post inspiring things on Facebook that make me stop and think and make small changes to improve myself.  Thank you.

Perspectives and Possibilities

Change.

Change is a funny thing. Sometimes it is exciting, and sometimes scary, or hard.  Or all three.  And sometimes it is so gradual you never even notice it is happening.

I feel as though our family has been evolving in a lot of interesting ways over the past year.  It feels like good things are on the horizon.  That doesn't mean I don't have moments of temporary panic and doubt, but when I look at where we stand and how far we've come I can breath a little easier.  In fact, sometimes a hint of giddiness creeps in.

Possibilities abound. . .

The same can be said of parenting.  Some days are monumental.  But mostly not.  Mostly you trek along doing what you set out to do, one step at a time. Homework. Piano lessons. Housework. Volunteer. Laundry. Tae Kwon Do. Run. Make lists. Cross items off lists. Trudge along. . . But you are so close to the details of your life you often fail to see the wonderful things that are developing until you step back and take a good look at your progress--at the whole picture from your new perspective.

Last week while I was researching for a paper topic for a class I am taking I came across a study that was analyzing the effects of parental involvement on a child's success--both in school and in life.  And while many factors affected how well a child performed in school, the most influential factor was the environment fostered by the parents.  Specifically, the study claimed that parents who had high expectations and aspirations for their children, who read with them and to them, and who exposed their children to educational experiences (like trips to the museum or simply having books in the home), were the ones whose children most often succeeded.  All of these, of course, come from actually spending time with your children, accompanied by positive reinforcement.

It all got me thinking about what we do with our children--and by we I mean "me".  I certainly feel as though we have spent more time doing fun things as a family over the past six months or so.  That was a conscientious decision we made last summer--to spend more time doing fun things as a family.  And we have.  We bought cross country skis and have gone a couple of times already, which we love.  We have begun to run as a family and have signed up for our first 6K as a family (perhaps that isn't actually fun, but we pretend it is!). We have tried to maintain our tradition of Family Fun Friday, intermittent though it often is with Signe's soccer games on Friday.  Nevertheless, that study had me wondering if we were doing enough.  Surely we could  spend more quality time together as a family.  And while helping the girls with their homework and reading to and with the girls is good, I thought it might be fun to somehow combine Family Fun Friday with educational activities. Leisure and learning. Anything to combat the influx of electronic activities encroaching on our lives.

So I went online and compiled a list of local museums, theaters, nature preserves, historic places, family entertainment venues, etc.  Anything and everything I thought might expose the girls to something new-- activities and places meant to be fun and broaden their perspectives.  Near the bottom of the list was rock gym.  Rob has been wanting to try rock wall climbing, so when I saw the gym I added it to the list.  MY first choice was the Portland Museum.  Rob's first choice was the rock gym.

We went to the rock gym.

Honestly, the girls were stoked and much braver than I would have suspected.  We all had fun working our way to the top of the 36 foot wall.  I tend to be afraid of heights.  But I learned that when I have a safety rope, I only have to focus on where my hands and feet are going RIGHT NOW.  Before I knew it I was at the top! When I stopped and looked back at how far I had gone, I was surprised to see how high I was.  It was a whole new perspective.

Kind of like life.

We expect a lot from our girls.  We push them quite a lot. I worry often about whether I am pushing them too much or not enough.

Do I invest enough quality time with them?
Have I provided good opportunities for them?
Will they be happy and well balanced?
Am I making them neurotic!?  

We plod along one foot hold and hand grasp at a time, hoping we are headed to a place of progress rather than a dead end or danger.  But then. . . once in a while. . .

We lean back and see how far we've come.  We take in the view. We see the good.  We feel the  giddiness start to creep in.  And we know--I know--beautiful things are happening.

Possibilities abound.

(I apologize for the crappy picture quality--I wasn't about to try taking my good camera--I clearly need to get a good quality point and shoot!)

Flying at The Speed of Light. . . And Pausing to Appreciate it

Writer's Workshop with Mama Kat

. . . because apparently I need a kick restart.

Prompt:  3.) Married? Tell us the story of how the question was popped.



It's mid November.  I swear it was just summer!  Apparently we are doing so much living these days that I can't seem to find time to document the process.  My pictures are back logged and great posts are going unwritten.  Take my anniversary, for instance.  It was July 26th.  I believe we were en route from Idaho to Utah that day, in the midst of our ten day summer vacation that encompassed three destinations including friends, family, and a family reunion.

14 years.

While rummaging through a couple of old journals the other day, looking for stuff about a high school boyfriend that I planned to use for an assignment in my Young Adult Literature class, I came across the entries about meeting Rob.  Seriously! How I thought I was so mature is beyond me.  I was 18.  And it was my journal--you are allowed to be self-absorbed when writing in your journal right?

I met Rob while attending Boise State University.  We were both studying and started talking.  I had been broken up with my high school boyfriend for all of two weeks.  I was a freshman, he was senior.  At the time I thought little of it.  I left and went about my merry business.

Okay.  To be honest, I do remember one thing.  He had this habit of raising one brow up when he was speaking that I thought was cute.

Rob, on the other hand, found out everything he could about me, and came back to that exact place to study every day in hopes that I would return.  I only went to that place once a week.  The following week he was there.  We chatted.  He lent me his abnormal psych book with his class schedule tucked inside.  His subtle attempt to win me over with his brainiac classes was lost on me.  I never really looked at it.

A few days later I arrived at school in a downpour.  As I rushed in from the parking lot I bumped into Rob coming up the sidewalk.  What seemed a lucky coincidence I would later find out was totally contrived.  He had stood in the rain for half an hour waiting for me to arrive so he could "bump" into me. I promised to meet him after school to return his book and hurried off to math.

After class I met him and he introduced me to his cousin, Jackie.  Two hours later I told him I had to get going and that if he planned on asking me out he'd better get to it.  He asked me out. . .

That was early November.  By Christmas we had a trip to Disneyland planned for January.  By the time we took the trip Rob was hinting at his intention to marry me and my mom was rooting for a proposal by Valentine's Day.

I mentioned I was 18 right.  I'd known him less than three months at this point.

I did not get a Valentine's Day proposal.  But by this time we had been looking at rings, so I knew it was coming.

After school on March 5th, Rob and I went to Dairy Queen for ice cream.  We often stopped there on our way home after school.  Rob walked me to my car and as I got in he knelt down beside my door.

Yes.  We are now in the Dairy Queen parking lot.

He pulled out the ring and proposed.  All I could think was, "You can't propose in the Dairy Queen parking lot! People will want to know how you asked me! In a parking lot?!"

Of course I said "Yes!"

Then I asked him what he was thinking, proposing in a fast food parking lot.

Turns out he had a grand scheme to propose on my birthday, March 9th.  But then he decided he couldn't wait another week, so he planned this big deal at a park with a romantic picnic and a special book.  But when he went to pick up the ring, they had mounted the wrong diamond.  He had to come back the next day to pick it up.

Plans ruined.

So the next day he got the ring.  Apparently it  was burning a hole in his pocket--hence the parking lot proposal. Even now, once he decides to do something, look out.  He did present the book, though.  He had gotten a copy of the children's book "Guess How Much I Love You?" by Sam Mcbratney.  Only he replaced the mama bunny and the baby bunny with our names.  He loved me.  A LOT.  And despite the location of the proposal, the feeling was mutual.

And we lived happily ever after. . . .

Well, we're working on it.  
Here's what I have learned from 14 years of marriage:

1. It's a miracle we have such a fabulous relationship even still considering how young we were and how quickly we got engaged, or maybe it's simply the result of us not being old enough to be set in our ways so we grew up together.

2. If one of my daughters decides to get engaged at 18 and married at 19 I will lock her in her room for 5 years.

3. Getting an education after getting married and having children is doable, but way more work than doing it the other way around.

4. Life never works out quite like you planned it, but what you get out of life is in direct proportion to what you put into it.

5. How you are proposed to isn't half as important as how you are treated on a daily basis, but it was an accurate representation of how romantic our marriage would be--at least in grand romantic gestures.  But love is really about remembering to put gas in my car for me, and less about grand declarations.

6. Every girl occasionally wants a grand declaration!

7. #4 applies equally to marriage.  So in answer to #6, every girl should occasionally perform her own grand declaration.

8.  Children are a fabulous blessing, and family date nights are essential, but they shouldn't replace ACTUAL date night.  Nothing beats dressing up and going out like giddy young love birds.

9. Men and women both need similar things from a relationship, but that doesn't mean they get it the same way, or give it the same way.  Hence the full gas tank instead of flowers or flowery words.  [Note to self: Do something practical and productive for Rob--he'll appreciate it more than any grand declaration.]

10.  I am one lucky girl who loves her husband more today than the day she married him (not surprising since she'd known him all of 9 months at the time), and is unequivocally adored in return!

A Grown Up Perspective. . .

Over spring break we packed up our car and headed to Idaho for a fun filled TEN days.  Half of that time Rob flew out to Scottsdale, Arizona for work and left us girls at my parent's house to get reacquainted with our long lost siblings and cousins (since moving to Washington we make it home a lot less often than when we lived in Utah).  Typically, when we do visit, we stay at Rob's parent's house, and how we fill our days differs at the two homes.

With Leesa, we shop and eat out and run around a lot--which I love.  At my mom's house we sit and chat and cook at home and the kids run wild--which I also love, and which the girls generally love as well (there are no cousins at Leesa's (aka Mana) house. At Mana's there is always a freezer full of ice cream, a closet full of toys and lots of new movies, and, of course, a lot of shopping--which often works in their favor--plus, in the summer there is a pool, lots of walking pathways and the Boise River for throwing rocks into.  But while my parent's house is no longer a farm (the land has been sold off and developed), it still feels like a farm.  Ducks, chickens, dogs and cats make for high entertainment, in additions to half a dozen or so girl cousins and a handful of boy cousins that show up to join the fun.

One would think, that since I grew up with wild liters of puppies and kittens roaming free, and climbed trees with the practiced agility of a monkey, and competed for the highest jumps on the trampoline, not to mention swimming in the canal (which the cows drank from. . . among other things) and dozens of other "country" activities, that I would want that for my children. . . and I do, BUT somehow scaling a tree to nose bleed heights seems less innocuous from the grand old age of 33 than it did from 7 or 11.  Cats have loads of germs.  Roaming puppies are in danger of being hit on the road if not kept under constant surveillance--kids too for that matter!  And don't get me started on the grossness that is the ditch!

I find myself constantly torn between letting them explore and be kids--after all they are outside, for pete's sake, and not on some electronic device--and reigning them in to keep them from killing themselves, breaking their necks on the trampoline, aka launching bone breaker.

I survived.  They will too. . . I hope.  I just have to keep remembering the old saying, "Everybody dies, but not everybody lives!"  I need to let my children live, albeit with an ounce of caution.  Just like Hannah proclaimed at the end of our trip (in reference to the go-go-go of Mana's house and the stay-stay-stay of Grammy's house) "Can't there just be balance!"

Wise girl.  I must be doing something right!

Progress. . .

After my last post, I cleaned and thought over my dilemma.  Then I talked to my husband.  He had some sound advice.  It was really novel, actually.  He said. . . work during work hours, say 8 - 4 (while the kids are at school), then DON'T work after 4pm.  Be "home" after 4 and do "home" things.  

GENIUS!  

As simple as that sounds, I have been letting my business take over my life.  I have worked and worked and stopped to make dinner and gone back to working to finish something up that I had started.  Something I might have finished during the day had I not gotten distracted and stopped to clean the kitchen or do some laundry.  

That's the hard part of working but still being home.  My to-do list gets all mixed together and when I wake up I think of ALL the things I have to do in a day--work, house, kids, whatever else--and I get overwhelmed.  Then I spend the day with my head ready to explode while I flit from one "to-do" item to the next and back.  Often I get so indecisive about what to do I don't get much of anything done--OR I get little portions of lots of things done, but have nothing to show for my time.

It's discouraging, to say the least.

But magical things happen when you spend your work day working and ignoring your house, then spend your home time ignoring your work--yesterday that involved three almost done sewing projects that I would have gone back to work on after dinner--and doing "home" things. But instead, I told myself, "Jenni, you left work.  Those things will wait for tomorrow" (well, Thursday actually, because we don't work every other Wednesday).  And it worked! My mind quit stressing about the work to-do list and shifted to the home to-do list.  So I spent the evening doing "home" things. . .

Like cleaning my kitchen.

And helping my girls do their homework and practice piano. . .

And making a batch of homemade bread.  

For months Rob has been making us homemade bread.  But this week he didn't have time, so he said "Why don't you make it?" Strange, huh?  I cook and bake a lot, but bread making has been his thing, so I never make it.  But why wait around for someone else to do something you can do yourself.

Especially when the outcome tastes so good!

I think this system is working for me.  Plus it means I may not have to cut out much.  Apparently, when you organize and compartmentalize your life more stuff gets done.  Sort of like packing.  

Who knew?!

Either that, or having a clean kitchen and a belly full of warm, buttered, fresh-from-the-oven, homemade bread just makes it seem as though all is right in the world.

Checking in. . .

I am now 17 days into this new year and I have not gotten much closer to simple.  But I am beginning to see that I really better start working my way in that direction because while I am certainly a person who likes to keep busy, things have reached an all time high level of craziness.  Everybody needs a little crazy--it keeps things interesting.  But in typical Jenni fashion I might have overdone the "crazy" factor.

The first step to recovery is acknowledging there IS a problem.  Next I just need to find a way to scale back.

Hmm.  My problem really is that I don't know what to cut.  I like all the little aspects of my crazy life. . . just not always the sum of those parts.

I think I will go de-clutter my house while I ponder how to de-clutter my life.  That always make me feel more organized.  Wish me luck!

Refresh & Recharge. . .

Perhaps resolutions are cliche, and granted, most people never remember what they resolved to do, let alone actually do them. Unless they are resolving to do the same things year in and year out without much follow through.  I know I am often guilty of that one.  So why do it?  For me, it helps me refocus. Plus, I think a big part of the New Year's resolution ritual is looking back at what you resolved to do LAST year.  Did I do what I resolved? Do I even remember what I resolved to do?  That is one handy thing about this blog--I simply go back and look. Plus, since I put it out there for anyone to see, I think it makes me more aware of whether or not I am following through.

So, let's look back at last years resolutions--they were shorter than most years (although I had a few goals I didn't blog about). . .

1- Finish School: I can proudly say I graduated from college. . . finally.  But I did so summa cum laude, so I am quite please with myself.

2 - Finish my book.  I wrote enough papers to equal a book, and had additional professors encourage me to pursue publication and doctoral degrees, but I did NOT do much writing on my book. After graduation I got off on a tangent and let that goal rest.  But I think it will be back this year.

3 - Finish house projects--namely the bathrooms.  We did remodel one of the bathrooms, and the laundry room.  Next the girls' bathroom.

4 - Be a better house manager. . . who knows.  Maybe.  Though Rob would likely say no.  Goals like this one are not very definitive so hard to say unless drastic changes occur.  No drastic changes occurred.

5 - Spend more time with my kids.  We did institute the Friday Family Fun Night.  And while it may not occur every Friday, the kids love it and look forward to it.  No major vacation though.  We did take several small trips, however (Astoria, Long Beach, Oysterville, Mt St Helens, Idaho, Seattle). We had ideas and vague plans, but this year I'm thinking London. . .

But I don't really need the list to see all the big things we've done as a family.  Rob started running and lost 50 pounds.  We all started eating healthier. I graduated from college. We purchased and completely renovated a rental property.  Rob passed his Pharmacy boards.  The girls piano lessons have taken serious root.  I started a business.  There are countless other smaller things that make me proud of my achievements over the past year. Maybe this year will be more about refining what we've started.

If I were to pick one word for my thoughts on 2011 it wold be:  FOCUS.

I need to focus on a few goals and cut the fluff.  Simplify.  I have often said I would be really good at something if I tried to do less.  It's still true.  What needs focus?

1.  Focus the goals for my home decor business.

2.  Focus more time for family

3.  Focus on healthier, simpler living

4.  Focus on my writing

5.  Also, focus on things like dejunking my house, my yard and use of free time

Hopefully by doing that I will be able to accomplish big things this year and by focusing on what's important, I plan to thoroughly enjoy myself, my family. . . my life.

Silence is Golden. . .

I love my kids to bits and pieces, but I have been dreaming of this day for weeks!  However, it was hard to drop my daughter off at middle school and have her say:

"Leave the camera in the car." Then she only let me walk her halfway to her home room.  I hovered at the halfway point watching my grown up girl walk away until the principal assured me I could go all the way.

"She doesn't want me to walk her." I explained, kind of sad that she didn't need me.

"Well, I will go down and make sure there is no confusion."  He offered with a smile.

She is going to be fine.

As for Signe, she was stoked to be in first grade and couldn't wait to meet her classmates. She skipped all the way to class and held my hand and even let me take two pictures of her at her desk. . . and kiss her in front of other people.

It's good to know I am still needed.

And it is very good to sit in a silent house and ponder my plans for the day in peace.

Growing Up

I find it interesting that no matter how old you actually are, your kids determine how old you feel.  I started fairly young, having Hannah at age 21.  Just yesterday she was my one and only, my blue-eyed, curly-haired blondie-- my sassy smart three year old. . .

Today she seems all grown up. . . and I feel sort of old, and amazed to have such a helpful young lady that is maturing and becoming more responsible each day.  Sometimes I can't believe she is nearly eleven and some days I forget that she is just a kid, and it is okay that she is acting like one.

She starts middle school next week and I think she is only half as nervous as I am.  Sixth grade seems so young to be in middle school, and she is the youngest in her class.  I took her to orientation yesterday and was amazed at the array of children.  Some looked like fourth graders. . . some looked like ninth graders!  I am glad that Hannah still would rather play with the boys instead of sit around giggling and talking ABOUT the boys.  It eases my nerves ever so slightly.

However, the "skater girl," as she calls herself, has made one leap this year.  Where last year she hardly cared if her hair was clean, or if she'd worn that shirt the day before, she suddenly is concerned about her appearance.  Though she still wants to stick with the "skater/tomboy" look, she is putting more thought into how she puts her outfits together.  Her "image" is no longer just a reflection she sees in the mirror when she brushes her teeth in the morning, it is something to carefully consider.

Which is why I was not too shocked when she asked if she could get a hair appointment at my salon before orientation so she could make a good impression and get a good picture for her student body card.  Of course I jumped at the idea.   We even scheduled it for the day of orientation so she could get it styled.

Luckily she loved it.

I hate that she is growing up. . . I love that she is growing up.  Either way she makes me proud to be her mother.

Life Is In the Little Moments

. . . but sometimes those little moments get lost in the hustle and bustle.  Part of the reason I started this blog (and the blurb books before that) was to document life's little moments.  You generally remember the big things, the feelings you had during certain periods of your life, but sometimes the small things get forgotten.  

I didn't want my kids--or myself--to forget all those precious little moments that seem like nothing, but which make up our life together.  

But once in a while life gets hectic and the little moments seem like they are getting in the way of life, instead of creating it.  In those moments I start wishing school would start and order would return, and that silence might make its way back into my home.

Then something jars me back on track and reminds me those moments ARE life, and in fact, they are actually BIG moments.  

Today, I sat down at my computer [my desktop computer] and found myself staring at a flashing question mark.  This is NOT a good thing.  And while it may be solvable, the quick steps that should have fixed it didn't.  I will have to take it in and see if my hard drive is damaged and my files are lost, or if someone can resurrect my life--at least that is how it feels sometimes, that my life is on that computer.  

All I could think about were the pictures that aren't backed up (luckily most of them are. . .or at least a large portion of them are), and about papers I wrote for school that I never printed (because the classes were online), or other documents that are only in that thin little box. . .

I thought of all those little moments I had not blogged about, but had planned on including in my girls' blurb books--one day.  Many of which I can't think of now--which causes small shocks of panic even now, at the thought of not being able to preserve those memories in neat little books that are easy to refer to and reminisce over.  

I may or may not be able to retrieve those files and pictures, but in the meantime I realize that my life is not on that computer.  I can still remember to appreciate the little moments now, as they are happening--to savor them before they are gone.  In a matter of weeks the girls will both be in school all day long.  Silence may reign, and my house may be clean on a more regular basis (both of which I will appreciate on so many levels), but those aren't the moments I will look back on and smile over.

When summer has gone and chaos with it, I won't look back and wish I'd had more clean laundry, I will think of the day the girls (along with 9--NINE--neighbor kids) sold cookies and lemonade for THREE hours and were tickled to make $16.50 from generous neighbors--and a sheriff and the UPS guy.  Never mind that they had to split it 11 ways!

Or I might remember how the kids started their own weeding business to earn money so they could buy a new wii game, and then worked so hard in my yard for five dollars each.

Or how excited they got to have a sleepover on the family room floor and make a tent out of chairs and blankets.  Not to mention the pure pleasure they got from spending days at mana's or grammy's house, swimming or playing with cousins.  

Signe's giggles still echo in my mind as I remember watching her chase Addy through the back yard, trying to retrieve the frisbee so she could throw it for him--giggles that lured the other kids from their activities to join in hot pursuit.

And nothing seems to beat the times they just wanted me to watch them sing and dance to music playing on the ipod, or read stories to me that they wrote themselves.  

I hope I never forget that all summer long Signe has insisted on one last goodnight hug and shared simultaneous kiss, after a whispered "one, two, three" to get the timing just right.  Some nights I just want her to go to bed already. . . but when she does one day without the need for that hug and kiss, I will miss it.  I know I will.

So maybe the computer does not need to hold all my memories for me.  Maybe I need to live in those moments so they can live in me.  

But really, cross your fingers for me, will you?  One day when I am old and my memory is frail I will need concrete evidence that my life was well lived! Like tomorrow.  

Summer Freedom. . .

. . . is a little over-rated.

Remember how excited I was to fling schedules to the wind and experience life summer style: no deadlines, no structured activities?

I changed my mind.  A certain amount of freedom and spontaneity are great, but a whole lot of flying by the seat of your pants makes for a wee bit of chaos. . . or a lot.  Sometimes that is great fun, but sometimes I just need to be able to plan.  I am, after all, a notorious list maker.  Inevitably, what happens is summer flies by and I suddenly wonder what the heck I have been doing.  I look at my summer to do list and think, "I know I've done stuff, but it ain't on this list!"

Plus the kids get all weird on me.  They don't like it when I suddenly ask them to do some simple tasks, like practice their piano, or some crazy other thing, like quit staring at a computer and try reading a book--or *gasp* go outside and play.  What ever happened to kids who played outside all summer? (of course we HAVE had very unsummer-like weather of late, all summer actually, with the exception of that one week when it was around 90 degrees)  And bed times are apparently non-existent in summer (but on the upside, mornings are quiet around here).

And I sure haven't been writing--not even on this blog (as the date of the previous post attests).

Through all the craziness I have come to a conclusion:

I need a schedule.  And deadlines.

I am clearly not great with the self-imposed variety of deadlines either.  I need people waiting on me to get it done already or else.  I seem to recall three distance classes that gave me six months to do the class, with no deadlines along the way.  I paid to extend all three.

I need LOTS of deadlines--for each step along the way.

My wall of shame is not working, and I figured out why:  It's overwhelming.  And it has no deadlines.  "Update digital contact info" has been on the list for over six months (I have piles of paper with addresses and such in a folder that I want on my computer and cell phone).  I suddenly wondered why it was on my long term goal list and not my daily to do list. . . so I put it there yesterday and less than an hour later I crossed it off the list. Done.

I need little goals and daily schedules that head in the direction of my bigger goals, and so do my kids.  And my husband for that matter.  The chaos has been driving him batty lately.

I don't think I am ready for school to start yet, but I think my first goal is to work on making goals and setting schedules.

Summer can be fun in an orderly fashion--I am sure of it.  Because after a couple months of wingin' it I have discovered something else:

I am not as free-spirited as I thought I was!

How do you structure your summer?