Writing Piece 5

I like this. But I want to work on it.  There's no title and I will probably think of a few more things to add when describing what it is like around here these days.


I smile.

It's been years...
     years since I've carried diapers
     years since I've made bottles on a regular basis
     years since baby toys covered the floor

10 years to be exact.
My babies are grown.
High school, middle school, one is four months from a license

Around here it is
spendy electronic toys,
lots and lots of food being eaten,
clothes that cost an arm and a leg,
refereeing knock-down drag-out fights,
talking back and one-word answers,
basketball games in the living room,
loud voices, smelly socks, and loads of laundry,
slaps, kicks, and punches,
guns, bikes, and motorcycles.

I'm busy but it's a different busy.

driving someone somewhere all the time
spending too much money at the grocery store for food that disappears in a day

But I babysit now
And I relive those days from years ago
when my own kids made small messes, took hour long naps, and time outs worked for disciplining

But then I remember
that we can go anywhere at anytime
without packing a diaper bag or making sure we have pacifiers, blankets, and sippy cups

And I remember that
these four kids of mine are turning into respectful, nice young people

And I smile.

Writing Piece 4

I know I say this all the time, but this is really rough.  I plan to keep working on this one.  It's a poem for my friend.  I don't like the order, how it ends, or some of my word choices and rhymes.  I do like the verse (#3) with the advice.  And I have purposely left out the punctuation.  :)

Yesterday

Meet me early in the am
We'll shop and talk and laugh
Tell the latest gossip
Discuss our newest craft

Today was a good day
cause I spent it with my friend
She's the one that gets me moving
On her advice, I do depend

No more quilting fabric
You don't need that dress
You're doing a great job as a mother
and it's okay your home's a mess

Starbucks is our first stop
Make mine a mocha - tall
You'll get your white chocolate grande
Then we'll head over to the mall

You make the plans, I follow
I'm lost without your smiling face
We'll discuss quilts and texts and people
There's always a time and place

Remember all the moments
The happy and the sad
except the Rife Lake Campground
Now that one was just bad!

Writing Piece 3

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this.  It's short but it is a small snapshot of what's going on in my world (or more specifically, my kitchen) right now.  I want to remember it.  Oh, and the title?  Definitely a work in progress.

What Next?

I have a small whiteboard on my fridge.  It's supposed to be for grocery lists, important reminders, or inspiring quotes.  Instead, someone is using it for their personal drawing space, their art portfolio. 

They draw.  I erase.  They draw.  I erase.  They draw.  I erase.

And the cycle continues.

Last week, it was pictures of food -- chips, hotdogs, hamburgers, candy.
This week, it is a fake family -- mudda, dadda, baby brudda, epic dude, work-a-holic unca.  (Their words, not mine.)

Each boy adds a piece of his personality each time they touch pen to whiteboard.   I know who draws what.  I know them that well.

I wonder what they'll draw next.  I erase to find out.

Writing Piece 2

This is very much a rough draft - it definitely needs work.  I'm trying to keep the paragraphs about each kid the same length and there's more I want to add.  I'm trying to touch on their quirks and their personalities.  I really want to edit this one and take it through the entire writing process.  So, in advance, let me say -- your advice, help, and words of wisdom are appreciated! 


They Belong to Me

Four kids, four different personalities, four pieces of my heart. One girl, three boys - all smart, friendly, and really good kids. Yes, they could help around the house more or keep their rooms clean or remember to do their chores without my hollaring, but the truth is, they make me proud.

Erin is the first born, my oldest, the one that made me a mom.  She's now 15, has her driver's permit and is taller than me.  Some days she talks back, sleeps for hours, and generally drives me nuts but she's kind to others, remembers birthdays and treats adults with respect. She's our social butterfly and attends school for the social life - not the academics.  But she's a lot smarter than she lets on.  When she was younger, she smiled a lot, knew she was cute, and batted her blue eyes at her dad - and wrapped him around her little finger.  I'm just wondering what kind of car he'll buy her when she turns 16 in July.

Jaret is our second, our oldest boy.  He was the calmest, quietest, best baby ever.  My husband chose his first name (and its spelling) and we don't hear of others with it very often.  He loves Legos, computers, and our DSi, DSiXL, and 3DS.  This is the kid that limiting computer time was invented for. He was on the middle school Lego Robotic Team and as his mom, it was nerve-wracking watching him compete.  And he could read before he went to kindergarten; he went to first grade for his reading instruction.  He's still quiet, very smart (I think his math abilities have passed mine), and really, really hates to empty the dishwasher.  He speaks in the one-word answers of a tween and he's almost as tall as me.

Andrew was a crabby baby.  He cried in his carseat.  He cried when I held him.  He cried when I laid him down.  He cried.  I cried.  And then one day, he was my best toddler - quiet, didn't run around the story touching everything, hated when people tried to pinch his oh-so-chubby cheeks.  He's actually stare at the ceiling of the grocery story if someone tried to talk to him.  He hates blood and feels funny if you even talk about it, but he's my only kid who's broken a bone (his arm) or needed stitched (above his right eye, still has a scar).  He's quiet until he knows you and then he's funny and very, very loud.  This quiet kid who sometimes "shut down" and refused to talk to others now wants to be a newspaper reporter.

Trey, our youngest, rules the roost.  He's funny, pesky, and loud.  This is the kid that could ride a bike before he was potty-trained.  His best friends are his dad and Clifford, the dog.  When he was younger, he'd get into the doghouse with Cliff and come in covered with dog hair.  In my favorite picture, he's about 3 and he's leaning on Clifford and wearing too-big rain boots.  He's very rough and tumble and can't stay clean for more than 5 minutes.  I don't think there was ever a time in those years before kindergarten that he didn't have a cut, bruise, or bump on his face. He's a reader but yet he has a hard time sitting still - he's always in motion (even if it's just a twitch or a wiggle).   According to his sister and brothers, he gets what he wants whenever he wants it because we love him best.  Actually, it's because he's the baby of the family.    

Writing Piece 1

First blog post ever!! Yay! I do like writing in my notebook but sometimes I struggle with what to write about - as you can see from this first rough piece.


I Can't Remember Anything

Time to write
I rack my brain
Should I write about me? My kids? or the rain?

My kids are my life
My dog and hubby too
I want to talk about my childhood
but I can't remember what I went through.

My memory is hazy
I remember the laughter and the smiles.
My mom, my dad, my sis, my bro....
we've traveled many a mile.

I had a dog named Peanut Butter.
I even had a bird.
We lived 30 minutes from the beach -
the best place in the world!

So I guess I'll just keep thinking
Taxing this old brain.
But if I can't remember anything
I'll write about the rain!