Thanks!

A huge THANK YOU to the women of Water's Edge Bible Church in West Chicago for welcoming me so warmly yesterday. I had a great time getting to know you all.

Now go put those purses to good use!

Friday Favorites - Honey Whole Wheat Bread

To kind of go along with the book review I did yesterday, I thought I'd share a recipe with you for something my family loves.

I don't just mean we love it with all small letters. We L-O-V-E with all caps this recipe.

For some reason this winter I started making bread. To be honest, Jo-Lynn was my inspiration--she's the one who introduced me to Michael Pollan and is really into healthy eating. And she bakes her own bread. Imagine.

But I got to thinking that my family would probably enjoy a slice of homemade bread every now and then, plus it's so much better for them, so I bought a bag of whole wheat flour and went to town.

Not literally--I already live in town. You know what I mean.

Anyway, the recipe I'm going to share with you came from Allrecipes.com and is really not that hard. You can do it. I know you can. I've made this about five times and it has turned out perfectly every time. (And thank goodness it cooperated this time since I was taking pictures and blogging about it and all.)

First, you mix together 3 cups of warm water with 2 packages yeast, 1/3 cup honey, and 5 cups white flour (or "bread flour" whatever that is).



Let those ingredients get happy for a while, as Emeril would say. Oh, about 30 minutes, until it's ooey and gooey.



Mix in some melted butter, another 1/3 cup honey and some salt. Here's where you need some whole wheat flour--about 3 or 4 cups.



Stir it into the rest of the dough and then knead it, adding whole wheat flour as you go until it's still slightly sticky.

(The recipe says to knead it with your hands, but this is where I pull out the trusty Kitchen Aid mixer. Even though mine is a smaller model and the dough spills up over the dough hook, it's worth it.)

Let all this mess rise for about an hour or so until it's doubled. Like this.



Shape it into three loaves and let them rise in the pans for about another hour.



Bake them. When they are done, you'll have three gorgeous loaves of whole wheat bread that your family will L-O-V-E.



Now, I hear the weather around these parts is going to be on the nasty side this weekend (don't tell anyone I said this, but the weatherman said something about little white flakes falling from the sky again. I just can't bear it, can you?), so I think it would be a very good time to practice your bread making skills. Seriously. Get the pans out and have fun.

Your family will L-O-V-E you!

Here's the recipe in case you couldn't follow what I was saying up there.

Simple Whole Wheat Bread (from Allrecipes.com)

3 cups warm water (110 degrees)
2 packages active dry yeast
1/3 C honey
5 C bread flour
3 T butter, melted
1/3 C honey
1 T salt
3 1/2 C whole wheat flour
2 T butter, melted

1. In a large bowl, mix warm water, yeast, and 1/3 C honey. Add 5 C white bread flour, and stir to combine. Let set for 30 minutes, or until big and bubbly.

2. Mix in 3 T. melted butter, 1/3 C honey, and salt. Stir in 2 C whole wheat flour. Flour a flat surface and knead with whole wheat flour until not real sticky--just pulling away from the counter, but still sticky to touch. This may take an additional 2 to 4 C of whole wheat flour. Place in a greased bowl, turning once to coat the surface of the dough. Cover with a dishtowel. Let rise in a warm place until doubled.

3. Punch down, and divide into 3 loaves. Place in greased 9x5 inch loaf pans, and allow to rise until dough has topped the pans by one inch.

4. Bake at 350 degrees F for 25 to 30 minutes; do not over bake. Lightly brush the tops of loaves with 2 T. melted butter when done to prevent crust from getting hard. Cool completely (unless you live in my house and the bread does not even make it to the cooled stage).

For a printable version of this recipe, click here.

Hey, I'm linking up to Hillary's Friday Favorites today. Hop on over there for some more favorite ideas.

Book Review - Food Rules

I grew up on a farm, so naturally I grew up with lots of good food around me. My mom was a fantastic cook, and she usually used fresh ingredients, making really good, simple meals.

My grandfather, who lived about a half mile down the road from me, had a huge garden in which he grew everything from broccoli to brussels sprouts, radishes to rhubarb. The colors in Grandpa's garden were glorious, and it always made me think of Mr. McGregor's garden from "Peter Rabbit." I still remember wandering up and down the rows of vegetables when I was a little girl.

So I guess you could call it my heritage or instinct or maybe just good, common sense that I call upon when I make food choices today. I've never been interested in pre-packaged food (too expensive for one thing), and I've never liked the idea of diet pop (hey, I'm a Midwesterner!). I like to cook, and I like to cook good food with top-notch ingredients. That just feels right to me.

Don't get me wrong--I am no earth-hugging, granola-chewing (although I do like granola), Birkenstock-wearing food nut. That is not and never will be me. It just makes me laugh to think that anyone would think I'm a health-food type of person. I'm SO not.

I don't like the idea of chemicals in my foods, though, and I do like the idea of buying my food at a farmer's market. So I guess if I need to go buy myself a pair of Birkies, so be it.

So when I came across this little book a couple of weeks ago while perusing the aisles of Borders for a while, I just knew I had to have it. It seemed to confirm a lot of what I had always thought about food, and yet it challenged me further.

Food Rules by Michael Pollan is a quick, easy read. You can get through it in one sitting. (Are you sensing a trend here?) *wink, wink*

In the book, Pollan talks about what we should eat ("Eat food"), what kind of food we should eat ("Mostly plants"), and how we should eat ("Not too much"). Common sense, right? These topics make up the three sections of the book, and each section reveals several "rules" that go along with it.

Here are some of my favorites.

Rule #2: "Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food." He uses Go-gurt as an example of this.

Rule #9: "Avoid food products with the wordoid 'lite' or the terms 'low-fat' or 'nonfat' in their names." He says that when the food manufacturers remove the fat they add carbohydrates to make the food taste better. You're just exchanging one for the other and probably eating more because of the false claim of the food being "lite."

Rule #20: "It's not food if it arrived through the window of your car." *gulp*

Rule #23: "Treat meat as a flavoring or special occasion food." I like this one a lot because I think we probably eat too much meat. But I also like the Pollon doesn't say, "Become a vegetarian." Ain't happenin', folks. But if I can think of meat as a flavoring, rather than as THE main course, I might not eat quite as much.

And I think this one is probably my MOST favorite (I sound like a little kid). Rule #39: "Eat all the junk food you want as long as you cook it yourself." Again, he's not saying you can't have fun every now and then. He's just saying that when you make cookies, brownies, or even french fries yourself at home you probably won't make them as often because they take so much time to make. Interesting point.

I think you get the idea. Food Rules gave me a lot to think about--stuff I'm still thinking about and will probably think about for a while. And the cool thing is that Kate read the book, too, and is thinking through the whole issue of "good" food versus "not-so-good" food, which is especially helpful since she'll be going to college soon and will be making her own choices about what to eat.

I really liked this book. You should get it.

The end.

Senioritis

Last week Kate, who is a senior in high school, begged me for a day off, claiming she needed a “mental health day.” Is that a 21st century term, or what?

But I get it. It’s been gray and cloudy for what feels like months now. She’s tired of school—she says they do nothing all day long. In fact, on Friday her gym teacher told the class to get a yoga mat out of the closet and then to lie down and take a nap. Kate claims that every Friday is now going to be “nap day” in gym class.

(Her dad would argue that if she gets a nap every Friday that is a mental health day. But I digress.)

Knowing that her dad was going to be out of town for a few days and her mom would probably be tired, Kate seized the opportunity and asked me for a day off. I must have been in a weakened state of mind because I did something I rarely do—I asked for the opinions of others. I’m usually pretty decisive, but that day I decided to throw Kate’s question out to my Facebook friends.

“Taking a poll. Should I let my daughter with senioritis have a mental health day? Comment below.”

And 28 of my most opinionated friends came back with various forms of “yes!” . . . except for Kate’s dad who came back with an adamant, “No!”

Also, some of my friends were concerned about the lying issue--would I lie to get my child out of school? Let me be clear (that usually gets the nation's attention, doesn't it?) . . . I will not lie to get my child out of school. Enough said.

Since Kate's dad was out of town, I was left to make the decision.

So I did.

Here’s the way I see it. Kate has already been accepted into her first-choice college. She’s pretty much a straight-A student. She holds down a part-time job. She tutors kids in the city once a week. She’s active in her youth group. The girl is busy. She works hard. And she’s a good . . . no, a great . . . kid.

Mentally, she’s checked out of high school. I’m not sure if they’re really doing nothing until the end of the year (I’d like a tax refund if that’s the case)—especially since a few of her classes are AP classes and they should be getting ready for the tests that are coming up in May—but I’m sure things are probably winding down somewhat. And after Spring Break it will only get worse.

Does all that mean she deserves a mental health day? Probably not. Does anyone deserve such an indulgence?

But does it also mean that she doesn’t deserve it? Also, no.

So what’s a mom to do? What did this mom do?

I thought about it long and hard last week and came up with a compromise. I told her that I would allow her to choose one day—and one day ONLY—between now and the end of the school year as her “mental health day.” She can take it now if she wants, knowing that in two weeks she’ll have five mental health days in a row (Spring Break), or she can wait until the weather gets warmer and do something more fun on her day off.

She didn’t love my answer (I think a senior in high school would just like to call the shots herself, thankyouverymuch), but she accepted it graciously. I think she’s going to try to gut it out until Spring Break and then wait for a warmer, sunnier kind of day to take a mental health day. She’s already asked me if I’d take her into the city, and we all know that I can’t say no to my daughter.

I guess I’ll get a mental health day too.

Intentional Parenting – Part 7; Intentional Kindness

Maybe I was a bully, but I remember fighting with my sisters a lot as a kid. In fact, I remember feeling sick to my stomach when my parents would go out, leaving us home alone, because I knew the evening would end badly. Call me the sensitive middle child, but the fighting really bothered me.

I wouldn’t say I became “friends” with my sisters until I reached adulthood which, I know, is the way it is with many siblings. But I think part of the reason for that is because we just plain weren’t nice to each other when we were kids. (Feel free to chime in here anytime, girls.) It could have been so much better.

Now, I have to tell you that I feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite writing a post about kindness. I mean, my kids don’t exactly thwack each other on the head calling each other “Punk” on a regular basis, but they do have their moments. I sure don’t want you to think I’m raising perfect kids here. There is some bickering going on in this house—it’s inevitable with three teenagers hanging around.

And I certainly forget to act with kindness when my child has lost an important paper or she didn’t leave enough time to walk to school in the morning or when they interrupt my writing time. No, sometimes kindness goes out the window with patience and I’m left without two of the most basic tools I need to raise my kids. So frustrating.

The point of this blog series, though, is to think intentionally about things we do as parents—to be proactive about the behaviors we’d like to instill in our kids so that we don’t have to react later. And one of the behaviors I really want my kids to show is kindness to one another.

It may be one that we’re working on, but it’s a goal, and I think it’s a good one.

Why Kindness?
Ephesians 4:32: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

Do I need another reason?

Well, I do have another reason--the world is watching. When your kids have friends over, and those friends see your child interacting with her siblings, it says something about what you believe and who you are as a family. It shows what you value.

Do you value peace in your home? Then expect kindness.

Do you value self-sacrifice over selfishness? Then demand kindness.

Do you value forgiveness? Then practice kindness.

Maggie had a friend over one day, and after her friend left she told me that her friend was so surprised by the way Maggie’s older sister had treated her. She said, “Your sister is so nice to you. All my sister ever does is tell me to go away.”

Remember that old song, “They’ll Know We are Christians by Our Love”? That’s the idea here. The world is watching our families, checking us out to see if there is anything different about us. Believe me, if your kids are kind to one another the difference will show. Big time.

What does this look like?
Oh boy, on some days I honestly couldn’t tell you what kindness looks like. But on those good days, the days when our family seems to be clicking on all cylinders, the days when everything seems right with the world and within these four walls . . . on those days it looks like this:

“How was your day?”

“Can I help you with that?”

“Come on in.” (That’s me, practicing kindness when I’m sitting in my writing chair and someone interrupts me.)

“I love you.” (Yes, my girls say that to each other. Without my prompting anymore, either!)

“I forgive you.”

Kindness melts your heart. Kindness breaks down walls. Kindness heals wounds.

And there just isn’t enough of it in this world, so why not start now by intentionally making your home a haven of kindness for your kids?

I’d love to hear about how you instill kindness in your home. Leave me a comment about that. Pretty please?

I Should Just Put Myself in Time Out

I have been a bad blogger this week. A very bad blogger indeed.

I could share all sorts of excuses with you. Like, "My husband was out of town and I had to do the work of two parents last week," but that would be lame because my girls are pretty self-sufficient and yes, although they do need their mom around, they manage to carry on pretty well by themselves.

Or, let's try this one: "My dog has epilepsy and she's been banging into doors and walls and falling down stairs all week." Nope, that doesn't work either because actually the meds haven't made her one bit loopy. We were kind of hoping for some silly loopiness from the dog, but no such luck. The only thing she is is whiney. I don't know if it's because B was gone and she had nobody to throw Monkey for her or if she just feels weird on her meds, but it's like she cries ALL. THE. TIME. I'd feel sorry for her if it just weren't so darned annoying.

How 'bout this one? "I'm acting as travel agent and tour guide for two pretty big trips coming up and I've spent all my time on TripAdvisor this week." Well, that wouldn't be too far from the truth, except that I didn't spend all my time on TripAdvisor. Some of it was spent on Frommers.

I know! Here's a good excuse: "I'm speaking at a women's retreat next weekend and I've spent a ton of time in the library writing the two talks I'm giving." Well, that one's only partially true because I didn't just spend a ton of time in the library last week. I spent time the week before last and the week before that. Thankfully, though, I did get my talks finished and this week is just practice and polishing.

I could tell you that I have been reading a lot, which would be true, but not a valid excuse for ignoring you all. Or shoe shopping with Abby, which is also true (and you have no idea what a challenge that is). Or grocery shopping for the first time in well over a week (true). Or starting a new workout routine that includes something other than walking the dog (which would not be true at all).

Honestly, I don't have a good excuse for not being around much last week. So let me just say I'm sorry and I'll try to do better this week (but no promises).

And the winner is . . .

With Maggie's help (she chose her favorite number), the winner of the "Lift" giveaway is . . .

Amy!!!

I'll get the book to you soon, Amy. Congratulations!!

On another note . . . sorry I haven't been around much this week. I have no excuses other than my kids being stressed, my husband being gone, and my work piling up. So it's really all our faults. (Just kidding--you should know by now that I don't operate that way.)

I'll try to get something of value posted tomorrow (any ideas?) and I already have an Intentional Parenting post ready for Monday.

So don't give up! I shall return. I guess I just needed a couple of days off this week.

Love you bunches!

Book Review - Lift

I realized today that I yammered on and on yesterday about how stupid I'd feel if I ever met Kelly Corrigan, but I never really told you much about her book, Lift.

Let me just tell you that this little book (only 82 pages) will make you weep. Not because it's sad--it is, just a little--but because every page is filled with love. Kelly freely shares her love for her two daughters, Georgia and Claire. She shares her heart, which is beautiful.

There were so many parts of this book that resonated with me. Sadly, sometimes. Kelly talks openly about losing control with her girls at times. Boy, could I relate. Seriously, I'd like to meet that parent who has never yelled, really yelled, at her kids. And that same parent who didn't regret it the moment it was over.

"Almost every day I yell at one of you so loudly that my throat hurts afterward. That's why I keep lozenges in practically every drawer in the house. I hold it together and hold it together and then, when the bickering picks up again, I just detonate. Like yesterday, Claire, when I listened to you whine through two rounds of some card game called Egyptian War. Finally, it was Georgia's turn to go first, and you said you couldn't play anymore because your armpits were sore. 'That's stupid,' Georgia said, and you cried, 'Stupid is a mean word!' and smacked Georgia with your open palm as I watched. 'GO TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW, MISSY!' I hollered. 'It was an accident; I fell into her on accident!' You both froze and I got to my feet and I leaned down into your faces and ranted at you through set teeth, like the heartless tyrannical caretakers in a movies about orphans. I was so disgusted with both of you, your impatient overreactions, your loss of self-control--then I turned right around and disgusted myself."

And another section, just a few pages later to which I could totally relate:

"This tug-of-war often obscures what's also happening between us. I am your mother, the first mile of your road. Me and all my obvious and hidden limitations. That means that in addition to possibly wrecking you, I have the chance to give to you what was given to me: a decent childhood, more good memories than bad, some values, a sense of a tribe, a run at happiness. You can't imagine how seriously I take that--even as I fail you. Mothering you is the first thing of consequence that I have ever done."

Yes. That. What she said.

So, anyway, I'm giving away a copy of Kelly's book, Lift. You can still join in until Friday, so hop on over to yesterday's post and leave a comment to enter in the giveaway.

Oh yes, I'll wear the mantle proudly {giveaway}

Last night I did one of those things I do that may seem, well, kind of geeky and weird to you. I don't do it often because it's a little geeky and weird to me too, but I enjoy geeky and weird sometimes.

Last night I went to a book reading. At Talbots. (Geeky) Alone. (Weird)

But the author who was reading her work was one of my favorites--Kelly Corrigan. For a long time I've listed her memoir, The Middle Place
over on my sidebar. This is a book that has impacted me so much, not because I could relate to her story, but because the way it's written makes me relate to her story.

She is an amazing writer. The kind of writer I'd like to be when I grow up. Real. Honest. Vulnerable.

And a couple of weeks ago, when I found out she had a second book coming out I preordered it that day, received it a week ago, and read it in one sitting. So when I found out that Kelly was going to be in my neck of the woods I announced to my family, "I am going to see Kelly Corrigan!" And for the next week or so I continued to announce, "I am going to see Kelly Corrigan!"

Thank goodness my family understands my propensity for geeky and weird.

Last night was the big night and I almost chickened out. I mean, it takes a certain amount of guts to walk into a store all by yourself to possibly meet a writer you admire more than just about anyone. (We'll get to the meeting part in a second.) But Maggie pushed me to it when I expressed some doubt.

"Mom, you've been looking forward to this for a long time now. And besides, you like these things. You should go."

So I went.

I'm so glad I did because the event was really nice . . . fun even. I mean, how often do you walk in Talbots and someone immediately puts a glass of wine in your hand? Like, never. So it started out great. And then got even greater when they announced that everything in the store--everything, girls--was 20% off just for that night. Hello? Twenty percent off is my new best friend.

But the best part was seeing Kelly and hearing her read. I did not meet her, although our eyes met at one point and we smiled at each other, but I just could not go up and meet her. Here's why.

Remember the scene in "Notting Hill" where Honey, the crazy red-headed sister of William (Hugh Grant's character) meets Anna (Julia Roberts) for the first time and she gawks and gapes and then says, "I absolutely and totally and utterly adore you and I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world and more importantly I genuinely believe and have believed for some time now that we can be best friends"?

Yeah, well, I was totally afraid that would have been me last night if I had actually met Kelly Corrigan.

So I kept to myself.

I may regret that someday, but for today I'm O.K. with it. I just don't trust my blabbering mouth sometimes.

Alright, you've patiently read through this post, and now I'm going to give you the opportunity to get your very own copy of Kelly Corrigan's book, Lift. Remember the 20% off discount that Talbots was offering last night? Yeah, well, I just couldn't resist. But what I haven't told you yet was that they were also giving away a copy of Kelly's book with any purchase over $100.

What I won't do for my readers.

Since I already had a copy of the book, I'm offering my free copy to one lucky reader. All you have to do is leave a comment telling me either a) what book you're reading right now or b) what author would you make a complete fool of yourself in front of. I'll announce the winner on Friday.

(Make sure I have an email address for you so I can contact you if you win.)

Now, go make it a good day!

Intentional Parenting - Part 6; Intentional Worship

Most of the time I love worship. Most of the time I love going to church and spending time with our church body and worshipping with the people there.

Most of the time.

But there are days when my selfish self would just love to stay home on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, sipping tea and reading a book during that time. Sometimes it feels like such a hassle to get showered and dressed on a Sunday morning, especially one as cold and rainy as yesterday’s was.

(Sorry if this is an assault to your sense of right and wrong. I’m just trying to keep it real here.)

But on those days when Jane Austen is calling my name, trying to lure me away from the cold, hard pews of our church, I have to go back to what I really want to teach my kids about worship.

Worship is not about me.

There is not one thing about worship that is about me. Not one.

Worship is about the One who came to earth for me, who took the burden of my sin and died for me. And why would I want to trade worshipping Jesus for Jane?

B and I have intentionally emphasized the importance of worship as our kids have grown. That’s not to say we’re legalistic about worship—believe me, we are not. But we do have some ideas about worship that we’d really like our daughters to catch, and so we’ve tried hard to model these principles into their lives.

Why Worship?
1. God commands our worship. And if God has commanded it, it’s our parental responsibility to teach our children the importance of worship. You can find hundreds of verses in Scripture to back this up—God demands that we worship Him and Him alone.

2. It’s important to worship alongside other believers. We cannot isolate ourselves from the Body of Christ. So many places in Scripture, God points out that we need each other, and one of the best ways to connect with one another is in a worship setting.

3. Worship is a discipline for life. Like I said, sometimes it’s hard to get going on a Sunday, especially if you have young children. You may just want to throw in the towel and wait until they’re older to start in the habit of worship. But, as I wrote in an earlier post, discipline is also important in our lives, so why not start early by instilling the good habit of worship in your kids.

I know, I know, there are so many reasons to forgo the time of worship. I’ve heard them all.

“My kids are too young. They won’t sit still for that long.”

“My kids think worship is boring.”

“I think worship is boring.”

Remember, worship isn’t about us. It’s about giving praise and honor and glory to the King of Kings. And my hope is that by instilling the discipline of worship into our kids’ lives they will continue this pattern when they are older.

How does this look in our family?
Over the years, B and I have had to intentionally think through this area of worship and make some decisions for our family. Here are a couple of thoughts we’ve had and how they impact our family.

First, Sunday School is not the same as corporate worship. Sure, worship may happen during Sunday School, but it is different, and we don’t want our kids to be confused about that. B and I have decided that Sunday School is important for our kids, but so is “big church” (I don’t know why, but that term just makes me laugh).

Which brings me to point number two. We have intentionally decided that our family will attend corporate worship together every week. Yes, our kids go to Sunday School, but they also attend the worship service. With us. In a pew. Together.

Here is where I may step on some toes, so please forgive me in advance, but I can’t think about the importance of worship without addressing it. Your kids can and should learn to sit through a one-hour worship service. From the time they were very young, our kids have sat through at least a portion of the worship service with us. Thankfully our church offers a Children’s Church for younger kids—they leave halfway through the service—but I love that they can at least sing a hymn and participate in a portion of the service with us.

Finally, worshipping together as a family breaks down barriers between us that shouldn’t be there in the first place. I’ll be honest. There may have been a Sunday or two when I’ve come to church a little . . . oh . . . mad at my husband. Or I may be frustrated at the way my girls have treated each other throughout the week. It’s there, in the pew with us, that frustration. Just sitting between us. But something happens as we focus on God. That frustration melts away, and I begin to see my husband, or my children, as the gifts that God has placed in my life. And by the end of the service I am ready to serve both God and my family with renewed strength.

This is a great and happy mystery to me.

Worship is THE big event of our week, and our kids need to understand that. As parents, we need to show them its importance by making worship together as a family a priority.

Update

photo credit: Simon Howden

Four weeks ago I wrote this post about doing the "thing" I'm supposed to be doing. Which, I think, might be writing.

And in that same post I asked you to pray for me that I would have the discipline to write for two hours a day, five days a week for four weeks.

Several of you wrote to me to tell me that you were doing just that--praying. For me. Can I just tell you how humbling that is? And how accountable to you I have felt over the past weeks?

So now I'm here to report back. To give you an update on how I did and the progress, if any, I made.

I'll be honest. This was hard. Some days I did well, tackling my work with gusto, feeling really good about the progress I was making.

But that was in the beginning. And very shortly after that first week I started to feel like I was getting way, way behind on everything in my life. I had other work to do for an upcoming women's retreat that I'm doing in a couple of weeks, and I was really getting overwhelmed with it all.

So I had a long talk with B (who always sees things so rationally), and he helped me see that two hours a day of writing was two hours a day of writing that I wasn't doing before. It didn't matter if I was writing a book or a speech as long as I was writing.

From that point on, I started to feel a little better. I had to put the book project down for a while so that I could focus on the retreat stuff, but at least I felt like I was devoting myself to two hours of writing every day.

I won't lie to you--this has been hard. I have three kids still living at home. Three kids with active lives. And a husband with a demanding schedule. So someone has to hold things together, and that someone is me. I like my role; I'm not complaining. I'm just pointing out that two extra hours each day--ten hours a week--is not easy to find in my life.

But it's doable. And I have done it.

I've learned a lot over these past four weeks, which is maybe why God had me throw out that challenge to myself. It hasn't all been pretty, but here is some of what I've learned through this little experiment.

1. Time is a gift, use it wisely. Like I said, my time is not my own these days, so when I have time I need to use it the best that I can. These weeks have challenged me to not waste a minute, and when I have a minute I need to sit down and write.

2. My family is awesome. Well, O.K., I knew this before, but throughout this past month they have been amazingly supportive. "Mom, did you write today?" seemed to be the mantra around our house. Funny thing is, that never became a bother to me--it just spurred me on to be even more accountable because I knew my kids were paying attention.

3. It doesn't matter what I work on as long as I write. I felt so bogged down by working on one project at the beginning, but then felt much less burdened when I allowed myself to just work on the speeches. Besides, those were my top priority anyway.

4. When you're doing what you're supposed to be doing and people are praying for you, satan (little "s"--remember?) will try every trick in the book to divert your attention.

The end of last week is the best example I can think of. I rarely get headaches, but last week I think I had a headache every single day. I got grumpy and fidgety and fussy, and I didn't think I could get the work done. On Thursday I had carved out a couple of hours to work at the college library nearby, but as soon as I got started I got a crashing headache. After 30 minutes I just had to stop working because I couldn't look at my computer screen anymore.

I was bummed. It felt like an attack.

On Friday I got up and prayed that I would be able to really dig deep and get some work done. After having breakfast with one of my most encouraging friends, I came home and set myself into my best working spot in the house. I only had two hours until I had to get to the next thing on my list. Just two hours. And in those two hours I cranked out so much writing that I kept looking at the clock. Every five minutes seemed like an hour--I was putting so much down on paper (on screen?). It was surreal how much I got done in those two hours.

And Friday was my last day of my formal commitment to my praying friends. So weird. So much like God.

Finally, I want to say thank you to each one of you who committed to pray for me. Whatever that looked like for you--whether a one-time prayer or an every-day thing--it made a difference for me.

The biggest thing I got out of this little challenge? Maybe just a smidge more discipline than I had before. And that is probably the thing I needed the most.

Friday Favorites

Welcome to the first edition of Friday Favorites hosted by The Other Mama. Hilary wrote to me to say that she wanted to run this blog carnival every week for a while. She's leaving it kind of open-ended, so you can post about anything you want, pretty much, as long as it's a favorite.

In an effort to keep things positive (and, believe me, it feels like a Herculean effort this week), I'm posting some of my favorite finds from around the blog world this week.

For some reason, they all seem to have something to do with parenting. Hmmmmm.

Favorite quote
This comes from Kay, a mom who's in a similar stage of life as me, who wrote a great post about her son. Toward the end of her post she says this (which I needed to hear this week too):

"Young parents [and you old ones too], hang in there. Keep doing what you're doing. It matters. Your child is not a greedy vacuum for your time and energy and money. He or she is a worthy, God-sent investment."

Favorite devotional
I get the Encouragement for Today devotionals in my email every morning, and yesterday's post was just what I needed to read. Didn't hurt that it was written by Lysa, another favorite of mine.

Favorite post
As much as I talk about being intentional with my kids, this post, written by Amy Beth (who doesn't even have children of her own yet), says so much better what I'm trying to say with my series. Please read it. It's beautiful.

Favorite New Blog
I had lunch this week with my friend, Ellen, who is an accomplished author and musician and now, a blogger. Ellen wanted to pick my brain about blogging since she's brand new to this little corner of the cyber world. Go visit her (and leave a comment while you're there!)--I know it would be a huge encouragement to her.

So those are some of my favorites for this week. I think Hilary's Friday Favorites is going to be lots of fun. Head on over there to join in and to read more favorites.

Today I actually love the U.S. Postal Service

Normally I hate the mail. It's usually either bills or worthless junk, so none of it pertains to me.

But yesterday was a different matter. As I sifted through the college brochures and the pizza flyers, I found a little salmon-colored piece of paper that told me that our postman had tried to deliver a little package that I had been waiting for. Unfortunately I wasn't home to sign for it, so I went to the post office FIRST THING this morning to get it.



I brought home my little white envelope, carefully slit it open, and found a blue envelope inside.


And inside the beautiful, blue envelope were these.


(Sorry about the blurry photo--I was so excited my hands were shaking.)

Still, doesn't that look so much better than this?



We're on our way!!!

Put a Human Name on it and We All (well, most of us anyway) Feel Sorry

See that face? That face that we all love so much?

(O.K. . . . In the interest of full disclosure, there may be one member of this family who doesn't love that face so much.)



The one who loves to stick her head out the window when she's riding in the car?



The one who lies around like a slug but then pops up like a Jack-in-the-Box the minute you use the word "w-a-l-k"? (I couldn't even bear to say it out loud on the blog for fear she would hear me.)

Seriously. We've had to come up with all sorts of code words for the "w" word in our house. Our favorite is "klaw" which is "walk" spelled backwards. For some reason, she has never been able to figure out what "klaw" means, but the minute we say "want to go for a . . ." she springs into action, dancing and jumping her way around the house.

Needless to say, we don't use the "w" word much.

This dog takes a fair amount of grief from our family. Like I said, one member would not lose sleep if she expired today. Others like to torment her by chasing her around the kitchen island. Others like to make her wait over her food dish when it's full of food until she's given the O.K. (Labs are so great at that--they won't move until you tell them to eat, even though they act like they haven't eaten all day.)

Anyway, even though we like to give her grief, we're all feeling a little bad for the Wonder Dog this week. I told you a while back that she had "issues." This week those issues got a name--epilepsy.

Who knew that a dog could have a human condition? But she does.

On Sunday she started having seizures around 3:00 p.m. that lasted until roughly 5:00 p.m. B thinks she may have had as many as four seizures during that time. Four seizures is not good.

So I took her to the vet yesterday who told me that it's finally time to put her on some medication. Apparently seizures cause her body temperature to go up, and if her fever got too high she could experience some brain damage. Can't have that now, can we?

So Thunder the epileptic Wonder Dog is now taking a daily dose of medication to help reduce the seizures. It's supposed to also make her a little less . . . active . . . so actually, that could be a good thing.

Maybe we'll even begin to start using the "w" word out loud one of these days.

Intentional Parenting - Part 5; Intentional Service

Thanks for joining me through this parenting series. If you want to catch up, you can read previous posts here, here, here, and here.


Truth-be-told, I’m tired as I write this post. I’ve had a long weekend.

It started on Friday morning when I climbed on a yellow school bus to accompany Abby’s orchestra downstate for a couple of music festivals. And it ended with a committee meeting at church last night.

So, I’m tired. And yet, I’m fulfilled.

On Saturday, B will leave for a 10-day trip to Brazil to serve the mission organization he helps out with. He will come back tired, yet also very fulfilled.

And really, that’s kind of what service is. Tiring. Yet fulfilling. (For some reason that sounds like a commercial to me—I just can’t remember which one.)

Anyway, living a life of service and intentionally modeling a life of service to our kids is an important part of our lives. Here’s why.

The Benefits of Service
Over the years B and I have served in various ways both in our church and in our community. We’ve done this, partly, to show our girls that giving of your time, not just your money, is important. But we probably didn’t dream that we’d get back so much more than we gave.

We’ve gained friends. We’re so thankful for the many friends who we would not have met if we hadn’t put ourselves in a position to work with other people. Some of my favorite friendships were formed when our girls were in elementary school and I served on the PTA. Getting to know other moms and the staff of the school was an incredible blessing in my life, and it still is today.

We’ve gained life skills. Serving teaches you stuff. Like, I had no idea that diapering a boy baby was a little bit different than diapering a girl baby—you have to move a lot quicker. I would not have known that if I hadn’t helped out in the church nursery. So, you know, you learn practical stuff like that.

We’ve gained wisdom. Sometimes serving helps you become just a little wiser. Sometimes you learn when to keep your mouth shut. Sometimes you become attuned to the agendas of others. Sometimes you just learn to listen to the voice of God in your head and do what He says.

We’ve gained perspective. Serving just reminds us again and again of what’s important—pouring ourselves into something outside of our little family or our little home or our little circle of acquaintances. It reminds me that there is a big world out there that can be helped just a little by my knowledge or my experience or my wisdom.

So the benefits are many and varied, and they will bring amazing blessings into your life.

Modeling Service to our Kids
Service isn’t always easy—like I said, I’m a little wiped out from my weekend—but I do believe it’s a necessary part of life, this giving back, and it’s important to model it for your kids. This is where the intentionality part comes into play. Because it’s important for your kids to see you serving. Why?

A life of service is fulfilling. Just like what I’ve pointed out above, the blessings of service are many. Friendships, a feeling of self-worth, wisdom. Whatever the blessings may be, our kids need to see that serving others is a privilege and well worth our efforts.

A life of service is joyful. Our kids need to see that serving can be fun. I really don’t think God can use us when we think of serving Him as drudgery. He gives us different gifts to be used, and using those gifts really should be a joy. Not that every minute of serving is fun—there are difficult moments—but for the most part, you should be able to look back and say, “That was fun.”

A life of service is other-focused. This, I think, is the most important reason to model a life of service to your children. How many times have you heard the phrase, “It’s not about you”? And how many times have you rolled your eyes when you’ve heard it or, worse yet, had your children roll their eyes at you when you’ve said it? Let me tell you something . . . it’s true.

I’m going to step on my mommy rant platform here and tell you that if you think this world is here to serve you, you’ll probably have a pretty miserable existence. If, on the other hand, you think you’re put here to give back, to serve those around you, you’ll find that life is pretty fulfilling, joyful, FUN! And don’t we want our kids to have that kind of fulfilling life that sees potential and finds a purpose?

I know I do. I want my girls to know that the purpose in their being here has nothing to do with them. I want them to know that a part of their purpose is to serve others. I want them to see that when we serve, we show God, not just tell Him, how much we love Him.

In the end, we can tell our kids “It’s not about you” until we’re blue in the face, but until they see us making life not about us, they won’t really believe it. If our kids see Mom and Dad sitting on the proverbial sidelines, waiting for life to come to them, they will model that when they’re grown up. And they will miss out on all the joys and blessings of service.

But more than that, they will miss out on sharing the best of themselves with others. They will not be able to see that they have something to offer the world—their time, their talents, their gifts. And using those gifts makes our kids feel like contributors to society.

Everyone has something to give. Even you. Even me. We can all do something to make this world a better place. I challenge you to help your kids see themselves as important contributors to their school, their community, their church, their world.

How Do We Do That?
For B and I, modeling service has taken many forms. As I’ve said, we have both served in various capacities in our kids’ schools, in our community, and in our church. But we’ve tried, as our girls have gotten older, to include them in service as much as possible.

For instance, right now all three girls serve alongside me in our church nursery. Once a month we get to go cuddle babies for an hour or so. It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t take a lot of time. And the girls get to see that, even though we’re tired at the end of our shift, we’re also full of happy stories about those babies. We love our time there.

As the older two have grown, they have had more opportunities to serve—away from the watchful eyes of Mom and Dad. This year, both Kate and Abby have gone into Chicago every Thursday to tutor kids in reading and math. And every week they come home with radiant faces, brimming with stories of the children they’ve touched. Those Thursdays, I think, have been a highlight of their year.

Kate, Abby, and even Maggie are beginning to experience for themselves the benefits of service—the joy, wisdom, and sense of purpose that comes from serving. One of my great hopes is that they will continue to serve as long as they live. Until they are tired . . . and fulfilled.

Good Reads

If you've hung around here for even a little while, you know how I love to travel. So, for this travelin' gal, this weekend will be a thrill. And a half. I'm heading downstate to a couple of really fine institutions of higher learning as a chaperone for an orchestra trip.

And if that isn't thrilling enough, we also get to ride on school buses. Last year I chaperoned this same trip--on coach buses. It seems the economy has really taken its toll on our school district (well now, there's an understatement!) and we must now cart two orchestras--both kids and their instruments--on buses of the yellow variety.

Even if the mode of transportation isn't my favorite (note to self--stop at Walgreens for Dramamine), the trip should be fun. Believe it or not, it thrills me to see how well those high school kids play. They are amazing, and it's fun for them to be able to play on some bigger stages than they do at their school.

So I'll be offline for a while this weekend (probably a good thing for me to be every now and then), catching up on some reading. Definitely not sleeping.

And now, for your weekend reading enjoyment . . .

This post by Antique Mommy made me think of my grandpa. I miss those days sometimes.

Not your typical birth story post here. You'll need a lot of time. And a lot of Kleenex. But the brutal honesty in this post is well worth the read.

This one is for bloggers who fall into the stats trap on occasion, myself included. It made me feel so much better about my few followers--our happy little band--and made me realize that my instincts are right: the quality of my writing is what I should be most concerned about, not the number of people who visit (although I will happily welcome any and all new readers at any time. I may even invite you over for dinner!).

O.K., now do tell . . . are you doing anything more thrilling than chaperoning an orchestra trip this weekend?

My Daughter's Heart

It was about 8:15 one night last week. Cold. Dark. Dreary.

I remember because I was irritated that the doorbell should ring at that hour, frustrated by the interruption into my quiet evening.

The little boy who stood there didn't say anything at first, a lost, confused look spread across his face when I answered the door.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Ahhhh. . . . This isn't it," he quietly answered more to himself than to me; his big, brown eyes peering up at me, needing some reassurance.

"What isn't it?" I replied.

"AJ's. This isn't AJ's house," and he looked around to see if perhaps my neighbor's house looked familiar. It didn't seem to bring the relief he was looking for.

Not more than nine or ten years old, the little boy wore a jacket that seemed much too thin for a cold night like that. He had no hat. No gloves.

"AJ?" I must have looked puzzled. "There isn't an AJ in this neighborhood," I quietly told him. "Where do you live, honey? It's really cold out here."

Those big, brown eyes darted up the street and his little hand pointed toward some apartments a few blocks away. I suppose that was where he lived, but I couldn't be sure because he quickly said, "AJ told me this was where he lived. . . . Huh." And he shrugged and turned away.

I called to him, "Do you need some help?" but he just walked toward the sidewalk where his bike was lying on its side; he picked it up and rode away.

Maggie stood back, away from the conversation at the doorway, but observing all the same. A few minutes later, after I was snuggled back on the couch underneath the blanket I had been wrapped up in, but still not comfortable in my soul, Maggie came to me with tears in her eyes.

"Mom," was all she said before she melted into my arms, crying for the little boy lost.

"I know," was all I could say. And then, "Maggie, there's nothing we can do for that boy right now except pray for him. Let's pray for him." She nodded and cried and clung to me.

And so we prayed for that nameless little boy. We prayed he'd be safe. We prayed he'd be warm. We prayed that he'd find his way home, wherever home was for him. We prayed that he had two parents who loved him. We prayed he'd find Jesus.

As my daughter held me tightly and cried for the lost, I caught a glimpse into her heart. And I loved it even more.

Darn that Groundhog!

This is the time of year that tries men's (and women's) souls. Everyone I talk to these days is frazzled and futzy about the weather. It has been a long winter.

But I know that there are two things that one should never complain about: your health or the weather. And so, I've made it a personal goal to not complain this winter.

For the most part it's worked. Until this week.

We got blasted with another snow storm yesterday and I think it's just about all some people around here can handle. Even my kids are getting a little sick of it all.

But rather than bemoan the fact that we're knee deep in the white stuff . . . again . . . I thought I'd try a different tactic. I'd try to see the beauty in it.

So I grabbed the dog . . .



. . . and my camera, and I took some pictures while we walked.




And we found beauty all around us.









(Especially beautiful to me was what an unidentified neighbor did while I was out. Thanks, neighbor!)




[Edited to add: I totally forgot to tell you that today I'm linking up at Emily's. Hop on over there to read some more inspirational posts.]

Intentional Parenting - Part 4; Intentional Stewardship

Let me just say right off the bat that I am no financial expert. I don’t even play one on T.V. But I do sleep with one, so maybe that makes me qualified to write this post. I don’t know.

What I do know is that money is a tricky, tricky issue. It can be the source of great joy, but it can also cause great sorrow. Talking about money is extremely emotional for me, which is why I try to avoid money talk as much as possible.

Frankly, I hate money. I hate the necessity of it. I hate the lack of it. I hate when I disagree about it with my spouse. I hate everything about it.

Which is exactly why I am intentional about teaching my kids about money. Because I really believe that if you don’t show money who’s boss, it’ll quickly turn the tables on you and become your ruler.

Why do kids need to know about money?
Think about it. How much did you know about money when you got out of college or headed out on your own? Had you ever managed a check book? Had you ever had a savings account? Had you ever paid a bill?

I’ll bet you had a credit card, but did you know how much interest you were paying if you didn’t pay your entire balance at the end of the month?

Money is such a huge part of life, but too many kids are sent out into the world ill-equipped to make financial decisions for themselves. Too many young people have no idea what it takes to be financially savvy in the world today and they easily get themselves into trouble. They suffer because of their lack of knowledge, and, ultimately, the rest of the world suffers too.

Why do I say that? Because with careful planning and solid biblical training, anyone—even a child—can learn to be good stewards of their finances. Call it being charitable, call it tithing, whatever you want to call it, this is one of the most important reasons that B and I have taught our kids how to handle money.

Financial principals we believe in
B and I have trained our girls to handle money from a very young age, believing that knowing some basic financial principals would then turn into habits which would carry them into adulthood. From the time they were four years old we have stressed stewardship in three ways: giving, saving, and spending.

Giving
The first time that B and I sat down as newlyweds to pay bills together was an eye-opener for me. He made it very clear that the first check we write on payday was our check to church. No exceptions. He said that if we were faithful in this, God would supply the rest of our needs.

And you know what? He has. Always and faithfully, God has met our needs as a couple. I could tell you stories about days when we didn’t think we’d be able to pay our bills, but when God came through in miraculous ways (but I’ll save those for another time). Just know that I am so thankful for a husband who has made giving a priority.

So when our girls were about four, we started them on a meager allowance of four quarters a week. Each girl had three jars that were labeled “Giving,” “Saving,” and “Spending.” And each week they would say the same thing over and over again: “One for God, one for saving, and two for spending.” It became a family mantra after a while, “One for God, one for saving, and two for spending,” but they knew the mantra and can repeat it today.

The order in which those quarters were dropped into the jars was extremely significant: the God jar was always first.

Today their allowances have gotten bigger, and our older two daughters have jobs—babysitting and one “real” job—and we still expect them to put aside the first ten percent for God. They are learning at a young age that God gives us money for a reason—to live, sure, but also to give. It’s a habit that I pray will continue as they get older.

Saving
The second jar was for saving. It got the same amount as the God jar (one quarter at first, more later) and came second, after God got His money. The idea here is that saving—even just a small amount—adds up and is just as much a priority as giving. If you don’t think you can save anything, think again.

Giving your kids savings goals is one way to help them learn this principal. We’ve told our girls that they will have to help pay for part of their college expenses, so they’ve had a savings account for that since they were very young. Some of their money goes here—especially Kate’s money since she’ll be needing some of it next year.

But we’ve also given them smaller savings goals as they have gotten older. For instance, once they got into 6th grade, we made them start paying for part of their summer camp expenses. (Do you have any idea how expensive summer camps have become?!) It’s not that we couldn't afford to pay for camp, it’s that we wanted our girls to appreciate the privilege of going to camp by investing in it themselves. In 6th grade we expect them to contribute $200 toward their camp fee. After that, it increases until eventually they have to pay half (which is about $500).

That probably sounds like a lot of money for a kid to have to save, but just this week Maggie proudly came to us to say that she had saved her Christmas and birthday money and some allowance money and now has the $200 to give to us for camp. You should have seen the joy on her face as she told us that she had accomplished this goal—she was so proud of herself!

Spending
“One for God, one for saving, two for spending.” B learned it another way: “Give ten percent, save ten percent, and spend the rest with joy and thanksgiving.” Those numbers may have been tweaked a bit over the years, but the principal remains: if God has blessed you with money to spend, enjoy it. Don’t squander it, but also don’t feel guilty about it.

We’ve adopted an allowance principal that my parents made up for me when I was a teenager. It taught me so much about how to budget and how to handle money that we thought it was important to share with our girls. (I know lots of parents who have different philosophies about allowance. This is just what has worked for us.)

Once our girls reach high school we put them on a bi-weekly allowance. Their allowance is an amount that B and I decided upon together, one that we feel is fair, that allows our girls to pay for their clothing and entertainment expenses (but we still expect them to tithe on that amount). If they don’t feel like they have enough money for all of that, then they work to make up the difference.

Believe me, as a parent this frees me up so much because I don’t have to make on-the-spot decisions about whether I can afford to pay for that pair of jeans or that top. The girls have to make those decisions for themselves. It’s a win-win all the way around.

As soon as our kids turned 14 (the youngest age our bank would allow)we got them a checking account and a debit card. This way they can write checks to church for their tithe and transfer money into their savings account using the ATM machine. We also wanted them to have the responsibility of paying a bill each month, so we make them pay for a portion of their cell phone bill.

Some of you may be reading this and thinking, “Wow, that’s harsh! Making your kids pay for their own clothes AND camp AND still give some away. What do your kids think about it?”

Well, I asked them, and they all say they like the allowance concept because they don’t have to run to me for money all the time. They can make decisions for themselves about whether they want to pay to see a movie with their friends or whether they want to save it for something else. If they want to buy expensive jeans, they can; if they prefer to buy cheaper jeans and something else, they can do that too.

Lessons Learned
As I was writing this post I asked Kate, who is almost 18, about some of the financial lessons she’s learned over the years. Here’s what she told me.

• It’s very easy to get into trouble with your money. You must be very wise with how you use it.

• Saving money now will make you happier later. (At this point I thought I had to do some re-teaching, but Kate clarified her point. She knows that money does not bring happiness, but what she meant was a sense of security, maybe a sense of peace in knowing that there is a little money saved up for the future.)

• She said she’s learned the value of a budget through getting an allowance. Getting into the habit of paying a bill every month has been good too.

• She said it has been good to do her taxes with her dad instead of him doing it for her. B takes the time to walk through the tax form with her each year, showing her how it’s done rather than just having her sign on the bottom line.

• It’s O.K. to spend money on yourself . . . as long as it’s not in excess.

• How to stay out of debt. (This is a biggie for a kid! Start teaching them this NOW!)

Kate’s final comment to me really made me stop for a second. She said, “You and Dad have prepared us to be poor when we get out of college.” She said that our stories of really struggling in those early years have made an impact on her, and they have made her realize that she probably won’t have much money right away. And that’s O.K.

She also said that too many kids her age just think that they will get out of college and live the way their parents live. Kate knows that she will have to work for what she has, she’ll have to budget with what she has, and she will have to be a good steward of her finances because, after all, it’s God’s money in the first place.

I warned her that there are no guarantees that she’ll have much money EVER, and that’s O.K. too. In the day and age we’re living, we really need to give our kids a realistic picture of what may be ahead for them. Believe me, my financially savvy husband does not paint a rosy picture of the economy.

But by giving our kids some good, solid financial principals to live by, they can be on a healthy path toward financial freedom. By helping them to become good stewards of their money now, we are helping them to, hopefully, stay out of financial trouble later.

Now talk. What have you done to teach your kids about money?

You'd think that after 25 years of marriage we'd be better at it

“So how was your Valentine’s Day?” my sweet friend Meghan asked me this week.

I had to laugh. Sort of. And then I told her the truth.

Truth which actually started last Wednesday—the Wednesday before Valentine’s Day—when B called me from work. “So, do you want to go out for dinner this weekend?”

My mind was thinking, Are you crazy? This is Valentine’s weekend. We’ll never get a reservation.” But instead my mouth said, “Are you crazy? This is Valentine’s weekend. We’ll never get a reservation.”

And then nothing happened until Friday when B called me from work again and said, “So, how do you feel about eating a little early tomorrow night?”

“What? Like as in 4:30 when the old people eat?” I said.

“Nah, not that early. How about 4:45?” That B. He’s such a kidder.

And me? I’m too honest for my own good.

“No,” I said. “Basically, no. We’ll be done with dinner by 6 and then we’ll have to go back home to the kids and that won’t be fun at all. Nope. Not gonna do it.”

So we talked about it a little more and decided that we’d go out the next weekend. When all the Valentine’s Day losers go out to eat.

So then Valentine’s Day came, and, frankly, I was pretty excited because you know what happened last Sunday.

The Olympics.

When our neighbor, Nancy Swider-Peltz, Jr. was skating in the 3000m women’s speed skating competition. And I really wanted to see it.

But there was this little matter of a meeting I had at church that afternoon. And then another matter of Nancy’s skate being postponed by a couple of hours. And the DVR recording that didn’t happen. And then another matter of a hockey game that was on when I got home. Well, and if I’m to be completely honest here, which I most certainly am, there might have been a little bit of a hormonal matter going on too.

And before I knew it the Blackhawks were in a shootout and Nancy skated and our DVR had not recorded it and I missed the whole thing. And I was kind of . . . oh . . . mad.

But I held it in. For a little while. Until B asked me what was the matter and, silly me, I had to be completely honest and blame hockey, whose fault it certainly was, which made him mad and so we were both mad for different reasons, both, I think, hormonal.

Children huddled in the basement. Dogs whined. Voices were raised. It was an ugly, ugly scene.

All over . . . what? I can’t even remember.

The next day we talked laughed about it, realizing that we couldn’t even really remember why we had had a huge fight on Valentine’s Day. We couldn’t even remember the last time we had had a huge fight. It’s all just so silly.

So, yes, we’ve been married for almost 25 years (June 1 is the big day—you can start your planning now), and we still fight every now and then. Over some really important things.

Like hockey.

And Valentine’s Day.

So, how was YOUR Valentine's Day?