Jessica L. Elliott's Blog, page 20
February 21, 2013
Day 3 - Wedding Wows and Woes
Murphy's Law states that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. In our family we've long had the joke that Murphy lived in our house because it seems that inevitably something (or several somethings) goes wrong when we desperately want everything to go right. But on February 15th, we hoped that Murphy would take a vacation from our family and let my sister's day be perfect. And for the most part, it was.
It was a crisp, cold day with heavy clouds hovering above us as those attending the temple ceremony drove to the Logan Temple. It wasn't a long drive, not even ten minutes, which the travel weary members of the family were quite grateful for. As Jonathan and I walked up to the castle-like building, he scouted for perfect camera angles since he would be the photographer of the day. "Now remember," I told him, "it's too cold for us to take a lot of pictures. Just coming out, a kiss and that's that."
"Yes, I know," he replied, squeezing my hand. Sometimes I'm a bit of a worrier and I know how easy it is for him to get carried away with his favorite toy. "I'm just trying to see what the best spots will be."
I squeezed his hand back and together we walked into the temple. As beautiful as it was outside, it was even more so inside. The peaceful quiet emanated throughout and we fell silent as we were directed where to go, the only conversation being the unspoken love and affection of our gently clasped hands. Temple ceremonies are sacred and so I will not describe it here, but it was beautiful. Bekah and Michael looked blissfully happy as I'm sure Jonathan and I did on our wedding day. It was wonderful to be able to listen more to the words of the ceremony because let's face it, when you're the one getting married there is only one other person in the room with you and it's not the sealer.
When the ceremony was finished, Jonathan and I walked outside to the car where his camera was waiting. Using me as a model (I looked nothing like a bride in my plain black skirt and old, purple jacket), he took a few snapshots to determine where he would have Bekah and Michael stand. "If I put them here, I can get the whole temple behind them." He moved with me somewhere else. "But I think I like this angle better. What do you think?"
I was a bit cold by this point as he flashed between the pictures. "I think either is fine. It's however you want to do it, but don't forget that it's cold."
Jonathan laughed at me. "Do you need to go back inside?"
"Please."
"Okay. I'll stay out here and get some temple shots, just come flag me down when they're going to be coming out."
"Will do," I threw over my shoulder and went happily back into the warmth of the temple. I waited with Dad and some of his family until Mom came. "Are they ready to come now?" I asked.
"I think so," she replied.
"Well then we should head out to meet them, don't you think?" We started wandering towards the exit and as we were walking out, I could see Jonathan leading them to the spot he'd found for the pictures. "They didn't wait for us!" was heard from several mouths and I sped up. "Bekah, you've got the patience of a mad rattlesnake!" I teased as I got close enough for her to hear me without me having to shout too much.
She laughed, "They told us that we were good to go, so we went."
She hugged me close and the congratulations that had been choked by tears earlier finally came out. "Well, you should have peeked around the corner to see if there was anyone there," I half-argued.
Michael and Bekah had to explain themselves a few more times. No one was really upset; we were all too excited and happy to let such a little thing mar the day. Jonathan happily and busily buzzed around taking photographs of everyone. We gathered everyone together for some group shots, which hadn't been the plan but turned out nice anyway, and then Bekah and I went inside the temple for the third time so she could change into her regular dress to go to the luncheon. "Where's your jacket?" I asked as she made to leave the room once dressed.
"In Michael's car," she said nonchalantly.
"Rebekah, it's cold outside and Dad is going to kill you."
"Oh, I never wear a coat. Why should he be surprised?"
I just laughed and together we went back outside. Jonathan was able to get some shots of them coming out of the temple together and we talked for a little bit before Michael said, "I would like to get my wife into a coat, so let's go to the cars." Good man, Michael. I hope you can teach her the merits of coats better than the rest of us have been able to.
Soon we were on our way to the luncheon with the kids in tow. Then we were helping to prepare for the reception. We made a stop to the store since I had discovered that I had forgotten pajamas on the way out. It had always been too late at night to get any when we'd been traveling, but today we could do it. I also decided that I wanted to get Jonathan part of his birthday present; the soundtrack from The Hobbit. Bekah had also mentioned that no one had gotten a guest book and I told her we'd take care of it.
The reception was pretty good to start with. Michael's aunt provided beautiful, soulful music and there was much laughter and chatter, as well as the omnipresent Jonathan snapping pictures at every opportunity. Then things started to go downhill. I can't remember why I was in the hall, I think maybe I was coming back from feeding Abigail. But either way, I was in the hall and I heard Gary screaming. Bracing myself to find an injured child gushing blood, I sped up to find where the crying was coming from. Hovering over a trashcan were Jonathan and Gary, vomit all down Jonathan's suit and Gary's clothes. Gary was crying loudly and threw up a few more times. "What happened?" I asked.
"He just started getting sick," Steven supplied as he brought paper towels in a desperate attempt to help clean Gary up.
"Go get the small suitcase, please. I think it's in one of the siderooms It has Gary's clothes in it." Turning to my son I said, "Gary are you feeling a little better?"
"No," he cried and promptly threw up again.
When the sick finally subsided, we took him to the women's restroom to change him. Bekah had come out briefly to see if we were alright. "It'll be fine," I told her, "but I don't want your dress to get ruined. Go on back to the reception. We'll be fine."
She frowned as she left and I felt terrible. Here we were on the most special day of my sister's life and my son was heaving everything he'd eaten. Tears of embarrassment stung my eyes. I had ruined her reception. Once Gary was settled down and cleaned up, I walked out to hear Abigail screaming at the top of her lungs. I sat down with her on a couch in the hall and let the tears fall. Soon Bekah came out again to check on us. "You silly girl," she chided gently. "You can't help your kids being sick. If you guys need to go to take care of them that's fine. We understand. And you haven't ruined my reception."
Have I told you that I'm pretty sure Bekah reads minds?
I smiled and sniffed. "At least he didn't throw up on your dress. I don't think I could forgive myself for that."
We both laughed and Jonathan and I started packing our things to take the kids to my aunt's house for the night. Gary threw up twice more on the way and as soon as we got to the house. My aunt, patient and loving woman that she is, simply led Jonathan to the laundry room and helped him start the dirty clothes in the wash. "I hope he's better in the morning," she said sympathetically as she told us where we could find bedding and towels for the night. "If you need anything at all, just come upstairs and ask, okay?"
The night was restless; Gary got sick a couple more times. I hoped that it was just a short bug that would be gone before we started traveling again. Boy was I wrong...
Check tomorrow for Day 4 - "Ugh"ing from Utah
It was a crisp, cold day with heavy clouds hovering above us as those attending the temple ceremony drove to the Logan Temple. It wasn't a long drive, not even ten minutes, which the travel weary members of the family were quite grateful for. As Jonathan and I walked up to the castle-like building, he scouted for perfect camera angles since he would be the photographer of the day. "Now remember," I told him, "it's too cold for us to take a lot of pictures. Just coming out, a kiss and that's that."
"Yes, I know," he replied, squeezing my hand. Sometimes I'm a bit of a worrier and I know how easy it is for him to get carried away with his favorite toy. "I'm just trying to see what the best spots will be."
I squeezed his hand back and together we walked into the temple. As beautiful as it was outside, it was even more so inside. The peaceful quiet emanated throughout and we fell silent as we were directed where to go, the only conversation being the unspoken love and affection of our gently clasped hands. Temple ceremonies are sacred and so I will not describe it here, but it was beautiful. Bekah and Michael looked blissfully happy as I'm sure Jonathan and I did on our wedding day. It was wonderful to be able to listen more to the words of the ceremony because let's face it, when you're the one getting married there is only one other person in the room with you and it's not the sealer.
When the ceremony was finished, Jonathan and I walked outside to the car where his camera was waiting. Using me as a model (I looked nothing like a bride in my plain black skirt and old, purple jacket), he took a few snapshots to determine where he would have Bekah and Michael stand. "If I put them here, I can get the whole temple behind them." He moved with me somewhere else. "But I think I like this angle better. What do you think?"
I was a bit cold by this point as he flashed between the pictures. "I think either is fine. It's however you want to do it, but don't forget that it's cold."
Jonathan laughed at me. "Do you need to go back inside?"
"Please."
"Okay. I'll stay out here and get some temple shots, just come flag me down when they're going to be coming out."
"Will do," I threw over my shoulder and went happily back into the warmth of the temple. I waited with Dad and some of his family until Mom came. "Are they ready to come now?" I asked.
"I think so," she replied.
"Well then we should head out to meet them, don't you think?" We started wandering towards the exit and as we were walking out, I could see Jonathan leading them to the spot he'd found for the pictures. "They didn't wait for us!" was heard from several mouths and I sped up. "Bekah, you've got the patience of a mad rattlesnake!" I teased as I got close enough for her to hear me without me having to shout too much.
She laughed, "They told us that we were good to go, so we went."
She hugged me close and the congratulations that had been choked by tears earlier finally came out. "Well, you should have peeked around the corner to see if there was anyone there," I half-argued.
Michael and Bekah had to explain themselves a few more times. No one was really upset; we were all too excited and happy to let such a little thing mar the day. Jonathan happily and busily buzzed around taking photographs of everyone. We gathered everyone together for some group shots, which hadn't been the plan but turned out nice anyway, and then Bekah and I went inside the temple for the third time so she could change into her regular dress to go to the luncheon. "Where's your jacket?" I asked as she made to leave the room once dressed.
"In Michael's car," she said nonchalantly.
"Rebekah, it's cold outside and Dad is going to kill you."
"Oh, I never wear a coat. Why should he be surprised?"
I just laughed and together we went back outside. Jonathan was able to get some shots of them coming out of the temple together and we talked for a little bit before Michael said, "I would like to get my wife into a coat, so let's go to the cars." Good man, Michael. I hope you can teach her the merits of coats better than the rest of us have been able to.
Soon we were on our way to the luncheon with the kids in tow. Then we were helping to prepare for the reception. We made a stop to the store since I had discovered that I had forgotten pajamas on the way out. It had always been too late at night to get any when we'd been traveling, but today we could do it. I also decided that I wanted to get Jonathan part of his birthday present; the soundtrack from The Hobbit. Bekah had also mentioned that no one had gotten a guest book and I told her we'd take care of it.
The reception was pretty good to start with. Michael's aunt provided beautiful, soulful music and there was much laughter and chatter, as well as the omnipresent Jonathan snapping pictures at every opportunity. Then things started to go downhill. I can't remember why I was in the hall, I think maybe I was coming back from feeding Abigail. But either way, I was in the hall and I heard Gary screaming. Bracing myself to find an injured child gushing blood, I sped up to find where the crying was coming from. Hovering over a trashcan were Jonathan and Gary, vomit all down Jonathan's suit and Gary's clothes. Gary was crying loudly and threw up a few more times. "What happened?" I asked.
"He just started getting sick," Steven supplied as he brought paper towels in a desperate attempt to help clean Gary up.
"Go get the small suitcase, please. I think it's in one of the siderooms It has Gary's clothes in it." Turning to my son I said, "Gary are you feeling a little better?"
"No," he cried and promptly threw up again.
When the sick finally subsided, we took him to the women's restroom to change him. Bekah had come out briefly to see if we were alright. "It'll be fine," I told her, "but I don't want your dress to get ruined. Go on back to the reception. We'll be fine."
She frowned as she left and I felt terrible. Here we were on the most special day of my sister's life and my son was heaving everything he'd eaten. Tears of embarrassment stung my eyes. I had ruined her reception. Once Gary was settled down and cleaned up, I walked out to hear Abigail screaming at the top of her lungs. I sat down with her on a couch in the hall and let the tears fall. Soon Bekah came out again to check on us. "You silly girl," she chided gently. "You can't help your kids being sick. If you guys need to go to take care of them that's fine. We understand. And you haven't ruined my reception."
Have I told you that I'm pretty sure Bekah reads minds?
I smiled and sniffed. "At least he didn't throw up on your dress. I don't think I could forgive myself for that."
We both laughed and Jonathan and I started packing our things to take the kids to my aunt's house for the night. Gary threw up twice more on the way and as soon as we got to the house. My aunt, patient and loving woman that she is, simply led Jonathan to the laundry room and helped him start the dirty clothes in the wash. "I hope he's better in the morning," she said sympathetically as she told us where we could find bedding and towels for the night. "If you need anything at all, just come upstairs and ask, okay?"
The night was restless; Gary got sick a couple more times. I hoped that it was just a short bug that would be gone before we started traveling again. Boy was I wrong...
Check tomorrow for Day 4 - "Ugh"ing from Utah
February 20, 2013
Day 2 - Lazing to Logan
The snow that had gently flurried about us on our way into Cheyenne fell more heavily the next morning as we got up to go to Logan. Wrapping the children in blankets and coats, we took everything back out to the car and got ready to go. As we got on I80 we were greeted by flashing signs warning us of varied speed limits as well as slick roads, high winds and blowing snow. The first speed limit we came to was 55mph. As our car climbed higher into the mountains, the speed limit dropped until we were crawling at 35mph. We watched other drivers go zipping by us, hoping that we wouldn't see them again on the side of the road. Their guardian angels must have been working overtime because while we saw a couple of accidents on the opposite side of the road, there were none on our side. The drive was so slow that we found ourselves taking a rest stop after an hour having only gone about twenty miles. We took pictures of the snowstorm below us before heading back into it. It was the strangest thing to see snow falling from what appeared to be clear skies. As though someone were slowly pouring a giant bottle of glitter over the earth, tiny flakes sparkled to the ground. By the time we arrived in Rawlins, we had spent a long four hours on the road and everyone was more than ready to get out of the car and stretch for a bit. But the good news was that the storm was behind us and we would have fairly easy driving for the remainder of our trip.
After lunch, we got back on the road. Gary and Gail enjoyed watching a movie and took little naps for the next few hours until we stopped for dinner. Then we had the task of getting into Utah following very small and difficult to navigate roads. Darkness had settled over the mountains and there was the barest sliver of a moon to light our way. It was a quiet drive, with few other cars along our path. We cut through mountains and then slowly wound our way down into the valley. It was a very slow trek and for a Kansas-girl like myself, having cliffs on either side of me was daunting and often a bit frightening. My sweet husband kept me well distracted, talking about his new job in Plains and what we would do when we move out there. By nine o'clock we were in Logan and talking to my parents about what to have for dinner. We agreed that Arctic Circle, a treat we can't enjoy at home, sounded like the perfect late dinner and we agreed that we would meet them at the hotel while they picked it up.
The night was spent talking and laughing. Bekah traded places with Eliza staying with us for the night before her wedding. After getting her hair set in braids so that she would have gentle waves in the morning and talking a little of the coming day, we each got into our beds and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the winter wedding to follow.
Check by tomorrow for Day 3 - Wedding Wows and Woes
After lunch, we got back on the road. Gary and Gail enjoyed watching a movie and took little naps for the next few hours until we stopped for dinner. Then we had the task of getting into Utah following very small and difficult to navigate roads. Darkness had settled over the mountains and there was the barest sliver of a moon to light our way. It was a quiet drive, with few other cars along our path. We cut through mountains and then slowly wound our way down into the valley. It was a very slow trek and for a Kansas-girl like myself, having cliffs on either side of me was daunting and often a bit frightening. My sweet husband kept me well distracted, talking about his new job in Plains and what we would do when we move out there. By nine o'clock we were in Logan and talking to my parents about what to have for dinner. We agreed that Arctic Circle, a treat we can't enjoy at home, sounded like the perfect late dinner and we agreed that we would meet them at the hotel while they picked it up.
The night was spent talking and laughing. Bekah traded places with Eliza staying with us for the night before her wedding. After getting her hair set in braids so that she would have gentle waves in the morning and talking a little of the coming day, we each got into our beds and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the winter wedding to follow.
Check by tomorrow for Day 3 - Wedding Wows and Woes
February 19, 2013
Day 1 – Carefree to Cheyenne
I've been gone for a while and so to make up lost time, there will be a daily blog post through Saturday detailing the many adventures and misadventures of the Elliotts' travels to and from my sister's wedding. Enjoy!
When my husband and I first started planning our trip to Utah for my sister’s wedding, we talked about leaving at an unmentionable hour of the morning. However, due to last minute packing and forgetful natures (no one set the alarm clock), we ended up sleeping in and getting started at 10:00. Having spent half the night trying and failing to figure out how to put my dress together, I didn’t mind. With our two kids and my other sister (not the one getting married) we set out for Cheyenne. Because I have a tendency to get carsick, I was the first driver and kept driving until I started getting a little sleepy from my restless night. Gary and Abigail fussed minimally only to indicate that they were hungry or needed changed. There were many stops along the way to change diapers and feed the baby, as well as to get some much needed stretch-time. The car we were driving wasn’t really built for a family vacation; especially not a family of three adults, two babies and a conglomeration of wedding supplies, baby needs, and snacks. Leg room was unheard of, unless you were the lucky one driving, and even there it wasn’t much. The seat had been pulled forward quite a bit so that the unlucky back passenger (usually my poor sister) had at least a smidgeon of leg room.
Now it wasn’t all bad. Gary and Gail had a great time together in the backseat. Gary got a new chalkboard and chalk set from his GG and enjoyed watching movies with his aunt on the laptop we brought just for that purpose. And with all the excitement, both children took frequent naps. The only downside to that is that when we did get to the hotel, Gary was wired. But we’re not at that part of the story yet. The other wonderful part about our Wednesday travels was that the snow that had been forecast for much of the area we were traveling through didn’t appear at all in most places and just flurried a little bit as we pulled into Cheyenne. It was a beautiful, virtually cloudless day. But it was very cold and the further we traveled, the colder it got. Several times we heard Gary whimper, “Blankie. Need blankie.” And each time one of us would fumble around and get him snuggled up in his favorite quilt to stay warm. While we did have the heater going, the backseat never seems to get as warm as the front.
Throughout the thirteen hour drive, the kids remained fairly peaceful until about Lexington, Nebraska. Tired and hungry, both began a chorus of whimpers and wails. The rest of us were tired and hungry too, so we pulled over at an Arby’s to eat. We must have showed how tired we were, because the manager, who was working the counter, took our order and said, “Let me get you some coupons for this.” She rummaged through a drawer and pulled one out to scan and gave us the altered price. “Now, you go on and sit down with your lovely babies and I’ll bring this out to you as soon as it’s ready.”
Gratefully we accepted Darla’s hospitality and we found a booth to sit in. Gail had gone back to sleep and Gary was busily exploring the small restaurant and charming the other guests. He’s good at that. :) Once our tray was out, we began eating and took a few minutes just to sit and relax in a place where we could stretch our legs full out and not be kicking someone’s seat (or a pile of stuff) Darla checked on us a few times before we finished and headed back out on the road. We were so grateful for the attention and for the understanding. Once out in the parking lot, we sat for a while so I could feed Gail in private and then finished out our trip to Cheyenne. It was only a few more hours and we arrived at 11:00 CST, so it was ten MST which we had gone into.
Gary was still wide awake, so we set up the beds, unpacked everything in a desperate bid to reorganize more efficiently in the morning, and put in a movie to help everyone relax a little bit. As we got to the end credits, Gary was finally asleep again and the rest of us were fast moving that way. So we got into our beds, crawled under the covers and fell asleep. Not too long after, Gary awoke and wanted his Daddy, so instead of it just being Jonathan, Gail and I in the mini-double bed, it was all four of us and my lucky sister got a bed to herself. The night was a bit restless after that, but we all tried to get as much sleep as possible because the next day would be even more challenging…
Check in tomorrow for Day 2 – Lazing to Logan
When my husband and I first started planning our trip to Utah for my sister’s wedding, we talked about leaving at an unmentionable hour of the morning. However, due to last minute packing and forgetful natures (no one set the alarm clock), we ended up sleeping in and getting started at 10:00. Having spent half the night trying and failing to figure out how to put my dress together, I didn’t mind. With our two kids and my other sister (not the one getting married) we set out for Cheyenne. Because I have a tendency to get carsick, I was the first driver and kept driving until I started getting a little sleepy from my restless night. Gary and Abigail fussed minimally only to indicate that they were hungry or needed changed. There were many stops along the way to change diapers and feed the baby, as well as to get some much needed stretch-time. The car we were driving wasn’t really built for a family vacation; especially not a family of three adults, two babies and a conglomeration of wedding supplies, baby needs, and snacks. Leg room was unheard of, unless you were the lucky one driving, and even there it wasn’t much. The seat had been pulled forward quite a bit so that the unlucky back passenger (usually my poor sister) had at least a smidgeon of leg room.
Now it wasn’t all bad. Gary and Gail had a great time together in the backseat. Gary got a new chalkboard and chalk set from his GG and enjoyed watching movies with his aunt on the laptop we brought just for that purpose. And with all the excitement, both children took frequent naps. The only downside to that is that when we did get to the hotel, Gary was wired. But we’re not at that part of the story yet. The other wonderful part about our Wednesday travels was that the snow that had been forecast for much of the area we were traveling through didn’t appear at all in most places and just flurried a little bit as we pulled into Cheyenne. It was a beautiful, virtually cloudless day. But it was very cold and the further we traveled, the colder it got. Several times we heard Gary whimper, “Blankie. Need blankie.” And each time one of us would fumble around and get him snuggled up in his favorite quilt to stay warm. While we did have the heater going, the backseat never seems to get as warm as the front.
Throughout the thirteen hour drive, the kids remained fairly peaceful until about Lexington, Nebraska. Tired and hungry, both began a chorus of whimpers and wails. The rest of us were tired and hungry too, so we pulled over at an Arby’s to eat. We must have showed how tired we were, because the manager, who was working the counter, took our order and said, “Let me get you some coupons for this.” She rummaged through a drawer and pulled one out to scan and gave us the altered price. “Now, you go on and sit down with your lovely babies and I’ll bring this out to you as soon as it’s ready.”
Gratefully we accepted Darla’s hospitality and we found a booth to sit in. Gail had gone back to sleep and Gary was busily exploring the small restaurant and charming the other guests. He’s good at that. :) Once our tray was out, we began eating and took a few minutes just to sit and relax in a place where we could stretch our legs full out and not be kicking someone’s seat (or a pile of stuff) Darla checked on us a few times before we finished and headed back out on the road. We were so grateful for the attention and for the understanding. Once out in the parking lot, we sat for a while so I could feed Gail in private and then finished out our trip to Cheyenne. It was only a few more hours and we arrived at 11:00 CST, so it was ten MST which we had gone into.
Gary was still wide awake, so we set up the beds, unpacked everything in a desperate bid to reorganize more efficiently in the morning, and put in a movie to help everyone relax a little bit. As we got to the end credits, Gary was finally asleep again and the rest of us were fast moving that way. So we got into our beds, crawled under the covers and fell asleep. Not too long after, Gary awoke and wanted his Daddy, so instead of it just being Jonathan, Gail and I in the mini-double bed, it was all four of us and my lucky sister got a bed to herself. The night was a bit restless after that, but we all tried to get as much sleep as possible because the next day would be even more challenging…
Check in tomorrow for Day 2 – Lazing to Logan
February 4, 2013
The Need For a Siesta
No one likes it when their baby is sick. It's especially bad when more than one baby is sick. My life last week consisted of all the chores related to having sick kiddos at home:
Wipe the runny nose with a tissue only to have the child wipe it all over my shirt a minute later.
Carry both children at once hoping that at least one will put their head down on my shoulder and go to sleep.
Use a warm washcloth to gently wipe away the dried snot caking the child's nose so that he can breathe again.
Use the evil suction-ball-of-death (at least that's how they treat it) to suck boogers twice the size of my child's nostril out of her nose.
Battle them both to bed at night, promising that if they sleep they really will feel better.
And when that was finally done for the day, there was no energy left over for the other chores that needed doing. So my calendars still all say "January". The bulletin board with the Primary theme for both the year and the month has not been updated to reflect that we are in a new month. And I still have my December/January photos up rather than getting new prints to show how much my babies have grown. We won't even go into the disaster my apartment became; especially my kitchen. And my lesson for Relief Society remained unplanned. By Sunday morning I was frazzled, tired and feeling pretty down.
But God knew what He was doing when He put Jonathan in my life. While I struggled to put together my lesson, my sweet husband took Gail and Gary into the kitchen to clean up the piles of dishes and remove the overflowing trash. He scrubbed down the counters and organized the pantry. Then he took them both to Gary's room and they got everything cleaned up. The toys were no longer scattered and the clothes were put away. He watched the kids so I could go to church and teach my lesson. And when I got home he made lunch and continued to take care of the kids so I could have a little bit of peace. As they napped we talked quietly about our future plans; where we want to go, the things we'd like to do, what kind of house we want. The stress and frustration of the week before melted away as I was gently reminded that this too shall pass.
So now it is a fresh week. Gail seems to have gotten over the bug, though Gary is still coughing and struggling with a runny nose. Hopefully this week will be more productive and I'll be able to continue working on my projects. I've actually got a couple going right now. Plus preparations for my sister's wedding. But I am ever so grateful to my sweetheart for realizing that I needed a break and stepping up. He's pretty amazing and I'm glad he's mine.
P.S. In fundraiser news, January saw a total of three books sales. Better than zero, but be sure to tell your friends about the discount (code GWHQ24H9 at checkout) on Charming Academy. We've got two sales right now for February which puts us a third of the way to our total goal. Keep sharing with your friends! You're doing great!
Wipe the runny nose with a tissue only to have the child wipe it all over my shirt a minute later.
Carry both children at once hoping that at least one will put their head down on my shoulder and go to sleep.
Use a warm washcloth to gently wipe away the dried snot caking the child's nose so that he can breathe again.
Use the evil suction-ball-of-death (at least that's how they treat it) to suck boogers twice the size of my child's nostril out of her nose.
Battle them both to bed at night, promising that if they sleep they really will feel better.
And when that was finally done for the day, there was no energy left over for the other chores that needed doing. So my calendars still all say "January". The bulletin board with the Primary theme for both the year and the month has not been updated to reflect that we are in a new month. And I still have my December/January photos up rather than getting new prints to show how much my babies have grown. We won't even go into the disaster my apartment became; especially my kitchen. And my lesson for Relief Society remained unplanned. By Sunday morning I was frazzled, tired and feeling pretty down.
But God knew what He was doing when He put Jonathan in my life. While I struggled to put together my lesson, my sweet husband took Gail and Gary into the kitchen to clean up the piles of dishes and remove the overflowing trash. He scrubbed down the counters and organized the pantry. Then he took them both to Gary's room and they got everything cleaned up. The toys were no longer scattered and the clothes were put away. He watched the kids so I could go to church and teach my lesson. And when I got home he made lunch and continued to take care of the kids so I could have a little bit of peace. As they napped we talked quietly about our future plans; where we want to go, the things we'd like to do, what kind of house we want. The stress and frustration of the week before melted away as I was gently reminded that this too shall pass.
So now it is a fresh week. Gail seems to have gotten over the bug, though Gary is still coughing and struggling with a runny nose. Hopefully this week will be more productive and I'll be able to continue working on my projects. I've actually got a couple going right now. Plus preparations for my sister's wedding. But I am ever so grateful to my sweetheart for realizing that I needed a break and stepping up. He's pretty amazing and I'm glad he's mine.
P.S. In fundraiser news, January saw a total of three books sales. Better than zero, but be sure to tell your friends about the discount (code GWHQ24H9 at checkout) on Charming Academy. We've got two sales right now for February which puts us a third of the way to our total goal. Keep sharing with your friends! You're doing great!
February 2, 2013
Sneak Peek at My Mystery
So the votes are in and Mystery was the decided winner. I'm still mulling out a few things, but here's the beginning. The mystery will be in New Mexico and based around the history there. Don't have many more details yet, but I hope you enjoy this first look.
Marissa sighed as she walked up the steps to her front door. It had been a long day at school and now she was more than ready to just head up to her room for a nap. Her history teacher had kept her late after class to discuss a project she was working on. “She didn’t even have the decency to wish me a happy birthday,” Marissa grumbled as she twisted the doorknob. Her mood didn’t improve to find it locked. “Great, that’s just great. Mom would lock the door today.” In the back of her mind she wondered why the door was locked since her mother had never locked it before. She fumbled in her purse for her keys. She’d missed the bus from being held over and when she’d tried to call home, there had been no answer. None of her friends had answered their phones either and she’d finally walked the thirty minutes to her house, which only left her more frustrated. Finally reaching them, she unlocked the door. As she walked inside, she was surprised to find it dark and quiet. Mom never left the house without turning a light on. “Mom? Are you home?” she called as she walked further inside, threading her keys between her fingers like her father had taught her. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she walked towards the studio, her mother’s retreat. Maybe she’s so wrapped up in a project she didn’t hear me, Marissa thought hopefully. She was surprised to find that the curtains had been drawn about the windows. Mom always left them open so she could see out into the house. Something was definitely wrong.
She slowly opened the door. “Mom?”
“SURPRISE!!!” several voices cried out at once as light flooded the darkened room.
Marissa screamed and jumped a good foot in the air. The small room was filled with smiling people, balloons and streamers. “Good grief, Mother,” she said, trying to remain annoyed but failing as a smile spread across her face. “Scaring the life out of me as a birthday present isn’t the best idea in the world.”
“Everyone needs a little jolt every now and again,” Mom replied with a smile.
“Who’s giving who gray hairs now?” Marissa retorted.
Laughing, Mom threw her arms around her daughter. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said and planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.
As her nerves settled, Marissa looked about the room, taking in more details than she had in her brief glance earlier. She was surrounded by friends and family. Even her history teacher, whose name she’d been cursing all the way home, was there. Mom’s worktable groaned under the burden of presents that had been stacked precariously on top. There were balloons and streamers everywhere with a large banner across the center of the room reading in hand-drawn and elaborately flourished letters:
Ye Olde Mayd’s Commemoration of Birth
Wyshing Marissa Gregory Joye and Prosperity
“Old maid?” Marissa questioned, raising one eyebrow.
“Well, you’re not yet married, that makes you an old maid by some culture’s standards,” Mom shrugged.
Marissa laughed. It was impossible to feel angry with her. The frustrations she’d felt earlier melted away as everyone around her wished her happy birthday.
“Sorry I made you walk home today,” Mrs. Thomas said apologetically. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“I take back all the horrid things I said on that walk. But you weren’t the only one. I have some friends who were in my bad graces too for not answering their phones.” She turned to the huddle of three girls coming towards her.
“Your mother wouldn’t let us!”
“Yeah, she made us turn in our phones when we arrived. Jake’s called me three times! He probably thinks I’m ignoring him.”
“Why didn’t you just bring him along? You know my mom wouldn’t have cared,” Marissa replied.
“Oh, he said I should have some girl time.”
“Yet he’s called you three times? What kind of girl time is that?”
“He probably just wants to know that I got here safely.” A popular song started blaring in the corner of the room. “Oh, that’s him!”
Marissa laughed as her friend practically ran to get her phone. “Thanks, guys, this was awesome.”
“It was your mom’s idea. We just went along with it.”
A short woman with shaggy blonde hair walked over to Marissa. “Happy birthday, my dear,” she said, hugging her.
“Thanks Aunt Chrissy,” Marissa replied. “But I thought you weren’t going to make it this year.”
Aunt Chrissy winked, “Have I ever missed your birthday?”
Marissa didn’t have a chance respond as her mother shouted over the noise, “Will everyone please take a seat? It’s time for cake and presents!”
There was some scurrying as people took their seats. Then Marissa’s father walked in carrying a large, chocolate frosted cake with “Happy Birthday Marissa” written across the top. Two lit candles, a one and an eight, flickered with his movement as the crowd of party-goers began singing loudly. When the chorus finally ended, Marissa closed her eyes and blew out the candles.
“While we cut the cake, we’d like to share eighteen years of Marissa with you,” Dad said as Marissa groaned.
“Do we have to?”
He laughed and went over to his computer. With a click of a button the presentation began on one of the walls of the studio. The title slide read:
Marissa Louise Gregory
January 17, 1993
The show continued with photographs and home videos ranging from her birth until just the past week when she’d had a snowball fight with her parents out on the front lawn. As it continued there was a lot of laughter and at times Marissa wanted nothing more than to crawl under her chair. The last slide went up and the screen went blank. “And thus concludes the known life of Marissa Gregory,” her dad said. “May the next eighteen years be just as eventful and joyous.”
Everyone clapped and then Mom passed around pieces of cake. “And now we will open the presents before they cause my worktable to collapse.”
This was met with more laughter and Marissa took gift after gift and slowly unwrapped them. There were new DVD’s, jewelry, a laptop from her grandmother, and various other items. As she opened them, she excitedly looked for the package from Aunt Chrissy. She always gave the best gifts and there was something in the twinkle in her icy blue eyes that made Marissa sure that this year would be no disappointment. Finally her mother brought her a long envelope. Marissa tried to hold back her disappointment. Just a card? After eighteen years of historic reproductions and exotic gifts she was getting a card? She looked uncertainly at Aunt Chrissy.
“Well, open it silly,” Aunt Chrissy said, the playful light never leaving her eyes.
Marissa turned over the envelope and slowly tore it open. Inside was just a plain piece of lined paper. She pulled out and unfolded it, allowing a plane ticket to fall in her lap. “Wait a minute, what’s this?”
“You tell me.”
Studying the ticket, Marissa found the destination. “New Mexico?”
“You’re going to join me for my latest expedition studying the cliff-dwellers,” Aunt Chrissy replied excitedly. “Happy birthday!”
Marissa’s disappointment fled in the wake of giddy excitement. “You mean I finally get to come with you on when of your expeditions?”
“I believe that’s what I said. Unless of course you are no longer interested in being an archaeologist.”
“This is the best present ever! When do we leave?”
“Well, your mother seemed to think you needed to finish high school first and I must admit that I do agree,” Aunt Chrissy conceded. “So you’ll be coming out the first of June and we’ll make a summer of it.”
Marissa couldn’t contain her excitement. She threw her arms around her aunt. “Thank you so much! This is going to be awesome!”
“Yes, it probably will be.”
The rest of the party went by in a blur. Marissa hardly noticed the other guests wishing her a happy birthday and expressing their excitement for her. “New Mexico,” one of her friends said. “You’ll be in a different country!”
“New Mexico is one of the fifty states you blonde,” a different friend said.
“Well, it’s almost a different country. I’m so jealous!”
“Yeah, deserts, rattlesnakes and scorpions. Real jealous,” another said. “But I am happy for you Marissa. I’m just glad it’s you and not me.”
Marissa laughed. “You just wait; this is going to be the adventure of a lifetime. My first field experience!”
“Well, I’m sure for a history geek like you it will be thrilling.”
She couldn’t let her friends spoil her mood. All of her other gifts paled in comparison to the plain envelope that held her plane tickets. She was finally going to go on an adventure like Aunt Chrissy. And best of all, Aunt Chrissy would be her guide.
Marissa sighed as she walked up the steps to her front door. It had been a long day at school and now she was more than ready to just head up to her room for a nap. Her history teacher had kept her late after class to discuss a project she was working on. “She didn’t even have the decency to wish me a happy birthday,” Marissa grumbled as she twisted the doorknob. Her mood didn’t improve to find it locked. “Great, that’s just great. Mom would lock the door today.” In the back of her mind she wondered why the door was locked since her mother had never locked it before. She fumbled in her purse for her keys. She’d missed the bus from being held over and when she’d tried to call home, there had been no answer. None of her friends had answered their phones either and she’d finally walked the thirty minutes to her house, which only left her more frustrated. Finally reaching them, she unlocked the door. As she walked inside, she was surprised to find it dark and quiet. Mom never left the house without turning a light on. “Mom? Are you home?” she called as she walked further inside, threading her keys between her fingers like her father had taught her. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she walked towards the studio, her mother’s retreat. Maybe she’s so wrapped up in a project she didn’t hear me, Marissa thought hopefully. She was surprised to find that the curtains had been drawn about the windows. Mom always left them open so she could see out into the house. Something was definitely wrong.
She slowly opened the door. “Mom?”
“SURPRISE!!!” several voices cried out at once as light flooded the darkened room.
Marissa screamed and jumped a good foot in the air. The small room was filled with smiling people, balloons and streamers. “Good grief, Mother,” she said, trying to remain annoyed but failing as a smile spread across her face. “Scaring the life out of me as a birthday present isn’t the best idea in the world.”
“Everyone needs a little jolt every now and again,” Mom replied with a smile.
“Who’s giving who gray hairs now?” Marissa retorted.
Laughing, Mom threw her arms around her daughter. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said and planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.
As her nerves settled, Marissa looked about the room, taking in more details than she had in her brief glance earlier. She was surrounded by friends and family. Even her history teacher, whose name she’d been cursing all the way home, was there. Mom’s worktable groaned under the burden of presents that had been stacked precariously on top. There were balloons and streamers everywhere with a large banner across the center of the room reading in hand-drawn and elaborately flourished letters:
Ye Olde Mayd’s Commemoration of Birth
Wyshing Marissa Gregory Joye and Prosperity
“Old maid?” Marissa questioned, raising one eyebrow.
“Well, you’re not yet married, that makes you an old maid by some culture’s standards,” Mom shrugged.
Marissa laughed. It was impossible to feel angry with her. The frustrations she’d felt earlier melted away as everyone around her wished her happy birthday.
“Sorry I made you walk home today,” Mrs. Thomas said apologetically. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“I take back all the horrid things I said on that walk. But you weren’t the only one. I have some friends who were in my bad graces too for not answering their phones.” She turned to the huddle of three girls coming towards her.
“Your mother wouldn’t let us!”
“Yeah, she made us turn in our phones when we arrived. Jake’s called me three times! He probably thinks I’m ignoring him.”
“Why didn’t you just bring him along? You know my mom wouldn’t have cared,” Marissa replied.
“Oh, he said I should have some girl time.”
“Yet he’s called you three times? What kind of girl time is that?”
“He probably just wants to know that I got here safely.” A popular song started blaring in the corner of the room. “Oh, that’s him!”
Marissa laughed as her friend practically ran to get her phone. “Thanks, guys, this was awesome.”
“It was your mom’s idea. We just went along with it.”
A short woman with shaggy blonde hair walked over to Marissa. “Happy birthday, my dear,” she said, hugging her.
“Thanks Aunt Chrissy,” Marissa replied. “But I thought you weren’t going to make it this year.”
Aunt Chrissy winked, “Have I ever missed your birthday?”
Marissa didn’t have a chance respond as her mother shouted over the noise, “Will everyone please take a seat? It’s time for cake and presents!”
There was some scurrying as people took their seats. Then Marissa’s father walked in carrying a large, chocolate frosted cake with “Happy Birthday Marissa” written across the top. Two lit candles, a one and an eight, flickered with his movement as the crowd of party-goers began singing loudly. When the chorus finally ended, Marissa closed her eyes and blew out the candles.
“While we cut the cake, we’d like to share eighteen years of Marissa with you,” Dad said as Marissa groaned.
“Do we have to?”
He laughed and went over to his computer. With a click of a button the presentation began on one of the walls of the studio. The title slide read:
Marissa Louise Gregory
January 17, 1993
The show continued with photographs and home videos ranging from her birth until just the past week when she’d had a snowball fight with her parents out on the front lawn. As it continued there was a lot of laughter and at times Marissa wanted nothing more than to crawl under her chair. The last slide went up and the screen went blank. “And thus concludes the known life of Marissa Gregory,” her dad said. “May the next eighteen years be just as eventful and joyous.”
Everyone clapped and then Mom passed around pieces of cake. “And now we will open the presents before they cause my worktable to collapse.”
This was met with more laughter and Marissa took gift after gift and slowly unwrapped them. There were new DVD’s, jewelry, a laptop from her grandmother, and various other items. As she opened them, she excitedly looked for the package from Aunt Chrissy. She always gave the best gifts and there was something in the twinkle in her icy blue eyes that made Marissa sure that this year would be no disappointment. Finally her mother brought her a long envelope. Marissa tried to hold back her disappointment. Just a card? After eighteen years of historic reproductions and exotic gifts she was getting a card? She looked uncertainly at Aunt Chrissy.
“Well, open it silly,” Aunt Chrissy said, the playful light never leaving her eyes.
Marissa turned over the envelope and slowly tore it open. Inside was just a plain piece of lined paper. She pulled out and unfolded it, allowing a plane ticket to fall in her lap. “Wait a minute, what’s this?”
“You tell me.”
Studying the ticket, Marissa found the destination. “New Mexico?”
“You’re going to join me for my latest expedition studying the cliff-dwellers,” Aunt Chrissy replied excitedly. “Happy birthday!”
Marissa’s disappointment fled in the wake of giddy excitement. “You mean I finally get to come with you on when of your expeditions?”
“I believe that’s what I said. Unless of course you are no longer interested in being an archaeologist.”
“This is the best present ever! When do we leave?”
“Well, your mother seemed to think you needed to finish high school first and I must admit that I do agree,” Aunt Chrissy conceded. “So you’ll be coming out the first of June and we’ll make a summer of it.”
Marissa couldn’t contain her excitement. She threw her arms around her aunt. “Thank you so much! This is going to be awesome!”
“Yes, it probably will be.”
The rest of the party went by in a blur. Marissa hardly noticed the other guests wishing her a happy birthday and expressing their excitement for her. “New Mexico,” one of her friends said. “You’ll be in a different country!”
“New Mexico is one of the fifty states you blonde,” a different friend said.
“Well, it’s almost a different country. I’m so jealous!”
“Yeah, deserts, rattlesnakes and scorpions. Real jealous,” another said. “But I am happy for you Marissa. I’m just glad it’s you and not me.”
Marissa laughed. “You just wait; this is going to be the adventure of a lifetime. My first field experience!”
“Well, I’m sure for a history geek like you it will be thrilling.”
She couldn’t let her friends spoil her mood. All of her other gifts paled in comparison to the plain envelope that held her plane tickets. She was finally going to go on an adventure like Aunt Chrissy. And best of all, Aunt Chrissy would be her guide.
January 28, 2013
Help Me Get There
We all have those things that crop up that we really want to do. Whether it’s going to a concert by our favorite artist or planning the dream get away with those most important to us, we all have things we want to do and places we want to see. And nine out of ten it takes money to do those things. This is where I need you to help me out.
Here’s what I want to do:
There is a writers’ conference coming up in my area that I’d really like to attend. Why? Well, for starters, it gives me an opportunity to hang out with other authors face-to-face. We can share ideas, take joy in our successes and commiserate in our fails together. It also will provide me with classes on how to improve my writing and marketing abilities. And there’s the ability to spread word about my books to a new group of people, potentially increasing my readership which would be great! All in all, it sounds pretty good right?
Here’s what I need:
The conference has a registration fee in order to attend. With my husband in school and two little ones at home, I’m sure you can imagine what my budget looks like. I’ve talked to my sweetie and he’s agreed that the money I make off of my books is the money that we can use for fun stuff. And this conference will be a big fun stuff. :) Well, big for a college student budget. Early-bird registration is $55. To make that from sales of my books, I would need to sell 15 books on Amazon. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, I’ve reached that point where many of the people that bought the first have already bought the second, so sales are slow. So, what can we do?
This is my proposal:
We can do a little fundraiser! And what fundraiser doesn’t have prizes? Prizes, you say? That’s right, prizes! Now, I’m on a student budget which means the prizes aren’t going to be big or glamorous, but here’s what I’m thinking we’ll do. The prizes will be based on how many sales I can get in these last few days of January and the month of February. Throughout the month I’ll keep you updated on where we’ve gotten. The prizes will be as follows:
15 sales: A big thank you blog post for helping me make my goal
20 sales: The thank you blog AND I will release a new story in March/April as a FREE ebook on Smashwords. What will the story be about? Well, that’s where you will come in again. I will do a poll on my Facebook fanpage and quiz you on what genre you’d like to see me try. I’ll give it my level best and we’ll see how I do! I’ll write the story during the month of February. Whether or not it comes out, will be dependent on sales!
25 sales: The thank you blog, new story AND a random drawing for a free, signed copy of my newest book, Finding Prince Charming. The drawing will be from fans of my Facebook page, so if you haven’t “liked” Jessica L. Elliott on Facebook yet, go ahead and do it today!
30 sales or more: The thank you blog, new story, book drawing AND a random drawing for a $10 gift card to Barnes and Noble. Why Barnes and Noble? Because we’re readers! :)
So, that sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn’t it? All I ask from you is that you tell others about Charming Academy and Finding Prince Charming . The more interest we can generate, the more sales we’ll see. I will also try to set up a book signing for the end of February in my local area. As part of the fundraiser, I’m putting a discount on CreateSpace for the books. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose, you ask? No, because I make more from sales on CreateSpace than I do from Amazon. By doing the discount, the books will make the same amount from either place. So, if you send your friends to my estore, give them the discount code GWHQ24H9. This will give them 20% off their purchase of Charming Academy.
Now it’s time! Go talk to your friends, share with your neighbors and help me get to the Kansas Writer’s Association Scene Conference! Thank you! :)
Charming Academy estore: https://www.createspace.com/3784472
Here’s what I want to do:
There is a writers’ conference coming up in my area that I’d really like to attend. Why? Well, for starters, it gives me an opportunity to hang out with other authors face-to-face. We can share ideas, take joy in our successes and commiserate in our fails together. It also will provide me with classes on how to improve my writing and marketing abilities. And there’s the ability to spread word about my books to a new group of people, potentially increasing my readership which would be great! All in all, it sounds pretty good right?
Here’s what I need:
The conference has a registration fee in order to attend. With my husband in school and two little ones at home, I’m sure you can imagine what my budget looks like. I’ve talked to my sweetie and he’s agreed that the money I make off of my books is the money that we can use for fun stuff. And this conference will be a big fun stuff. :) Well, big for a college student budget. Early-bird registration is $55. To make that from sales of my books, I would need to sell 15 books on Amazon. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, I’ve reached that point where many of the people that bought the first have already bought the second, so sales are slow. So, what can we do?
This is my proposal:
We can do a little fundraiser! And what fundraiser doesn’t have prizes? Prizes, you say? That’s right, prizes! Now, I’m on a student budget which means the prizes aren’t going to be big or glamorous, but here’s what I’m thinking we’ll do. The prizes will be based on how many sales I can get in these last few days of January and the month of February. Throughout the month I’ll keep you updated on where we’ve gotten. The prizes will be as follows:
15 sales: A big thank you blog post for helping me make my goal
20 sales: The thank you blog AND I will release a new story in March/April as a FREE ebook on Smashwords. What will the story be about? Well, that’s where you will come in again. I will do a poll on my Facebook fanpage and quiz you on what genre you’d like to see me try. I’ll give it my level best and we’ll see how I do! I’ll write the story during the month of February. Whether or not it comes out, will be dependent on sales!
25 sales: The thank you blog, new story AND a random drawing for a free, signed copy of my newest book, Finding Prince Charming. The drawing will be from fans of my Facebook page, so if you haven’t “liked” Jessica L. Elliott on Facebook yet, go ahead and do it today!
30 sales or more: The thank you blog, new story, book drawing AND a random drawing for a $10 gift card to Barnes and Noble. Why Barnes and Noble? Because we’re readers! :)
So, that sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn’t it? All I ask from you is that you tell others about Charming Academy and Finding Prince Charming . The more interest we can generate, the more sales we’ll see. I will also try to set up a book signing for the end of February in my local area. As part of the fundraiser, I’m putting a discount on CreateSpace for the books. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose, you ask? No, because I make more from sales on CreateSpace than I do from Amazon. By doing the discount, the books will make the same amount from either place. So, if you send your friends to my estore, give them the discount code GWHQ24H9. This will give them 20% off their purchase of Charming Academy.
Now it’s time! Go talk to your friends, share with your neighbors and help me get to the Kansas Writer’s Association Scene Conference! Thank you! :)
Charming Academy estore: https://www.createspace.com/3784472
January 22, 2013
Birthday Bash!
Normally Mondays are my blog days, but yesterday was my son's birthday. My little guy turned two and what a delightful party we had!
I started getting things ready Sunday night. Or rather, I tried to. The one thing I love almost as much as writing is baking. I love being in my kitchen beating a cake batter or smelling the sweet aroma of cookies wafting through the house (or apartment as is the case right now). So Sunday night I decided that I was going to make Gary's birthday cake and that since he loves The Little Engine That Could, this year I would make him a train cake. I beat the batter and poured it into a pan. For a half-hour the apartment smelled of yellow cake. I got it out when the beeper sounded and then set it out to cool. Unfortunately because it was nighttime and I was really tired, I only gave it about half an hour to rest before deciding that if I set on the tray, it could cool overnight and I'd shape and frost it in the morning. But when I got the cake out of the pan, it did what all cakes do when they are removed too soon: it crumbled. I was too tired to try to come up with any solutions right then, so I went to bed and determined I'd buy new cake mix in the morning.
Morning came and I went to the store. I decided as I wandered the aisles that instead of shaping the cake to be a train, I would just draw one on with frosting. I bought a chocolate cake batter and a yellow cake batter. Since I was not having much success with shaped cakes, I'd make him a marble cake. I got home in time to start cleaning up and making breakfast. My sister and her fiance were coming for breakfast and to go look at a house with us. They arrived, we had a delicious breakfast of French toast with peach cinnamon syrup, bacon and apples. Then we had another house-hunting adventure. This time we were looking at a house for my sister and her fiance. They really like the house, but with him being in the military they know it would be best to continue renting. But we looked at the house as an option if my little family were to stay in the area. Then the four of us would buy the house together and then when they got orders elsewhere, Jonathan and I would stay in the house and they wouldn't have to worry about trying to sell it. Gary liked it because the current owner has a puppy and he loves dogs.
We went back to the apartment, made the cake and then sent Gary on a walk with his aunt and uncle-to-be. While they were out, Jonathan and I started setting up all the toys that a family at church had given us. They were cleaning out and had thought of Gary. Their timing was perfect; just in time for Gary's birthday. So we set up those toys, set out the presents that we had bought him and waited for my family to arrive before sending word to those at the park to come back. Once everyone was situated, Gary and Jonathan walked into the apartment to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday. Gary made a beeline to his presents and bounced from toy to toy, excited to find out what each one did. He opened his presents and couldn't keep away from many of them; especially not a toy laptop.
After lunch we had some quiet time before heading over to my family's house for a fondue dinner. Gary then got his cake and was able to blow out his candle. Or at least to try to. :) It can be hard when you're little, so he got a little assistance. It was a fun-filled day and he had a blast. It was great being able to spend some time with my little guy and not really worry about anything else. So happy birthday to my sweet little prince.
I started getting things ready Sunday night. Or rather, I tried to. The one thing I love almost as much as writing is baking. I love being in my kitchen beating a cake batter or smelling the sweet aroma of cookies wafting through the house (or apartment as is the case right now). So Sunday night I decided that I was going to make Gary's birthday cake and that since he loves The Little Engine That Could, this year I would make him a train cake. I beat the batter and poured it into a pan. For a half-hour the apartment smelled of yellow cake. I got it out when the beeper sounded and then set it out to cool. Unfortunately because it was nighttime and I was really tired, I only gave it about half an hour to rest before deciding that if I set on the tray, it could cool overnight and I'd shape and frost it in the morning. But when I got the cake out of the pan, it did what all cakes do when they are removed too soon: it crumbled. I was too tired to try to come up with any solutions right then, so I went to bed and determined I'd buy new cake mix in the morning.
Morning came and I went to the store. I decided as I wandered the aisles that instead of shaping the cake to be a train, I would just draw one on with frosting. I bought a chocolate cake batter and a yellow cake batter. Since I was not having much success with shaped cakes, I'd make him a marble cake. I got home in time to start cleaning up and making breakfast. My sister and her fiance were coming for breakfast and to go look at a house with us. They arrived, we had a delicious breakfast of French toast with peach cinnamon syrup, bacon and apples. Then we had another house-hunting adventure. This time we were looking at a house for my sister and her fiance. They really like the house, but with him being in the military they know it would be best to continue renting. But we looked at the house as an option if my little family were to stay in the area. Then the four of us would buy the house together and then when they got orders elsewhere, Jonathan and I would stay in the house and they wouldn't have to worry about trying to sell it. Gary liked it because the current owner has a puppy and he loves dogs.
We went back to the apartment, made the cake and then sent Gary on a walk with his aunt and uncle-to-be. While they were out, Jonathan and I started setting up all the toys that a family at church had given us. They were cleaning out and had thought of Gary. Their timing was perfect; just in time for Gary's birthday. So we set up those toys, set out the presents that we had bought him and waited for my family to arrive before sending word to those at the park to come back. Once everyone was situated, Gary and Jonathan walked into the apartment to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday. Gary made a beeline to his presents and bounced from toy to toy, excited to find out what each one did. He opened his presents and couldn't keep away from many of them; especially not a toy laptop.
After lunch we had some quiet time before heading over to my family's house for a fondue dinner. Gary then got his cake and was able to blow out his candle. Or at least to try to. :) It can be hard when you're little, so he got a little assistance. It was a fun-filled day and he had a blast. It was great being able to spend some time with my little guy and not really worry about anything else. So happy birthday to my sweet little prince.
January 14, 2013
A Shout Out For the Indies!
I recently joined a Facebook group for independent writers, (https://www.facebook.com/groups/indie...) in other words authors who choose for whatever reason to self-publish rather than be traditionally published. In the short time I have been a member I have made new friends, learned quite a bit about what it means to be an independent author, and gained valuable insight into improving my books and marketability. The support from author to author has been phenomenal. I posted a question about audiobooks and within hours had several responses with resources, advice and encouragement. I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support and have tried my best to give back as other authors post their questions, concerns and comments (though as a newbie myself, my help has been rather limited).
I’ve also been saddened as I read the woes of these talented writers: companies not taking their work seriously because they have self-published, traditionally published authors looking down on them, being rejected at a bookstore because of the printer that they went through and so on. So today I’m taking a stand for the indie writer. It takes a lot of work to self-publish. It’s the DIY forum in the publishing industry. And like any DIY forum, that doesn’t necessarily make it the easier one.
For starters, why would an author self-publish? There could be a variety of reasons. I’ll share mine with you.
1) I’m horribly impatient. It can take years to find a traditional publisher willing to take your work and then there are still months to wait before your name is in print and your book is on bookstore shelves. I didn’t want to wait years or even months to share my writing with the world. Self-publishing gave me a way to share my stories and see my name in print without a long waiting period. I’m still looking into traditional publishing because I see the advantages of that forum as well, but for now indie publishing works out well for me. People can find and purchase my stories and I can continue to share what I love most.
2) I am a control freak! I’m the oldest child in my family and am as stereotypical oldest child as it is possible to be. You remember your big brother/sister bossing you around? Yeah, that would be me. I’m bossy, sometimes controlling and things WILL be done MY way and there is NO highway option. Self-publishing lets me control my stories. I set my own deadlines and can, when life intervenes with my well-laid plans, change them as necessary. I can write whatever I want to and no one is going to tell me that it isn’t marketable or that it’s not what readers expect from me. There are always people interested in any type of story. And readers deserve to be surprised every now and again.
3) I did it for you, the reader. Being self-published allows me to make my book available to my readers and keep them in mind. For example, I have total control over my books’ pricing. My husband, my greatest marketing ally, is in school and our little family is living on a student’s budget right now. Anyone who has been in school knows how tight that is. We know that times are tough and we set the books’ prices accordingly. Yes, we make a profit off of our sales, but we also make sure that it is reasonable for our readers. As we can, we set up discounts and promotions to help make my stories affordable as well as enjoyable. I also control my website. When you visit it and send me an email, no one filters them for me. I get each and every one of them without having to wait.
Those are just a few reasons someone might self-publish. It doesn’t mean they aren’t talented or that their story isn’t worthwhile. Let’s be honest; we’ve all read books that left us wondering what the publisher saw in it. But just because I personally didn’t enjoy the story doesn’t mean that no one else in the world liked it either. The self-published author puts in just as much heart, soul and work into their craft as a traditionally published author. It takes the same amount of dedication and courage. I have to believe in my story and its worth because if I don’t, I’m not going to share it. I have to be dedicated to spreading the word and building my readership because I don’t have a marketing team to do it for me. My story is my own and I’m responsible for making it the best it can be. In a way, the self-published author puts in more to their story because they know that it’s only going to succeed if they push it themselves. Time is put into editing, revising, rewriting, and perfecting their story so that when you pick it up, they know you’re getting the story as they envisioned it. Some of us may dream of that big publisher, but at the end of the day how many of us actually know who published the books on our shelves? I certainly don’t know all of them. I know some of them because I took advantage of school book orders to build up my classroom library, which is now my children’s library. But for the most part, I have no idea who published the books on my shelves and it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone took the time to create a story worth reading and then had the guts to put it out there. Whether they did it by themselves or went through a publishing company, that’s quite an accomplishment and shouldn’t be looked down on.
There are a lot of myths about self-published authors. Some think they only do it because they can’t get a traditional publisher. Not true! Many of these indie writers would be more than capable of getting a traditional publisher interested in their work. It’s a matter of whether or not they wanted to put that work in to get the publisher. Others may think that there would be an overabundance of spelling/grammatical errors. Let me tell you, that’s true of any book whether indie or traditional. I’ve read traditionally published books with terrible grammar and creative spelling. It’s not a problem found only within the indie realm. And for those who think that indie writers aren’t as good, you’re missing out on some great stories. In some ways, the indie writer has to try even harder to have a good story and takes a bigger risk in releasing it. When an author has gone through a traditional publisher, they’ve had someone unrelated and unbiased say that their work is worth reading. The indie author doesn’t have that same advantage. While Mom is awesome and we love her, she’s just a little biased and is definitely going to think our writing is perfect! (Love you Mommy!) The indie writer puts his work out there hoping that it’s as good as his mom thinks it is.
So here’s to the indie authors! If you are a writer thinking of publishing, give some thought to going indie. It isn’t for every author, but for some it’s the best thing in the world. Who knows? Your story might go farther than you thought it would.
I’ve also been saddened as I read the woes of these talented writers: companies not taking their work seriously because they have self-published, traditionally published authors looking down on them, being rejected at a bookstore because of the printer that they went through and so on. So today I’m taking a stand for the indie writer. It takes a lot of work to self-publish. It’s the DIY forum in the publishing industry. And like any DIY forum, that doesn’t necessarily make it the easier one.
For starters, why would an author self-publish? There could be a variety of reasons. I’ll share mine with you.
1) I’m horribly impatient. It can take years to find a traditional publisher willing to take your work and then there are still months to wait before your name is in print and your book is on bookstore shelves. I didn’t want to wait years or even months to share my writing with the world. Self-publishing gave me a way to share my stories and see my name in print without a long waiting period. I’m still looking into traditional publishing because I see the advantages of that forum as well, but for now indie publishing works out well for me. People can find and purchase my stories and I can continue to share what I love most.
2) I am a control freak! I’m the oldest child in my family and am as stereotypical oldest child as it is possible to be. You remember your big brother/sister bossing you around? Yeah, that would be me. I’m bossy, sometimes controlling and things WILL be done MY way and there is NO highway option. Self-publishing lets me control my stories. I set my own deadlines and can, when life intervenes with my well-laid plans, change them as necessary. I can write whatever I want to and no one is going to tell me that it isn’t marketable or that it’s not what readers expect from me. There are always people interested in any type of story. And readers deserve to be surprised every now and again.
3) I did it for you, the reader. Being self-published allows me to make my book available to my readers and keep them in mind. For example, I have total control over my books’ pricing. My husband, my greatest marketing ally, is in school and our little family is living on a student’s budget right now. Anyone who has been in school knows how tight that is. We know that times are tough and we set the books’ prices accordingly. Yes, we make a profit off of our sales, but we also make sure that it is reasonable for our readers. As we can, we set up discounts and promotions to help make my stories affordable as well as enjoyable. I also control my website. When you visit it and send me an email, no one filters them for me. I get each and every one of them without having to wait.
Those are just a few reasons someone might self-publish. It doesn’t mean they aren’t talented or that their story isn’t worthwhile. Let’s be honest; we’ve all read books that left us wondering what the publisher saw in it. But just because I personally didn’t enjoy the story doesn’t mean that no one else in the world liked it either. The self-published author puts in just as much heart, soul and work into their craft as a traditionally published author. It takes the same amount of dedication and courage. I have to believe in my story and its worth because if I don’t, I’m not going to share it. I have to be dedicated to spreading the word and building my readership because I don’t have a marketing team to do it for me. My story is my own and I’m responsible for making it the best it can be. In a way, the self-published author puts in more to their story because they know that it’s only going to succeed if they push it themselves. Time is put into editing, revising, rewriting, and perfecting their story so that when you pick it up, they know you’re getting the story as they envisioned it. Some of us may dream of that big publisher, but at the end of the day how many of us actually know who published the books on our shelves? I certainly don’t know all of them. I know some of them because I took advantage of school book orders to build up my classroom library, which is now my children’s library. But for the most part, I have no idea who published the books on my shelves and it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone took the time to create a story worth reading and then had the guts to put it out there. Whether they did it by themselves or went through a publishing company, that’s quite an accomplishment and shouldn’t be looked down on.
There are a lot of myths about self-published authors. Some think they only do it because they can’t get a traditional publisher. Not true! Many of these indie writers would be more than capable of getting a traditional publisher interested in their work. It’s a matter of whether or not they wanted to put that work in to get the publisher. Others may think that there would be an overabundance of spelling/grammatical errors. Let me tell you, that’s true of any book whether indie or traditional. I’ve read traditionally published books with terrible grammar and creative spelling. It’s not a problem found only within the indie realm. And for those who think that indie writers aren’t as good, you’re missing out on some great stories. In some ways, the indie writer has to try even harder to have a good story and takes a bigger risk in releasing it. When an author has gone through a traditional publisher, they’ve had someone unrelated and unbiased say that their work is worth reading. The indie author doesn’t have that same advantage. While Mom is awesome and we love her, she’s just a little biased and is definitely going to think our writing is perfect! (Love you Mommy!) The indie writer puts his work out there hoping that it’s as good as his mom thinks it is.
So here’s to the indie authors! If you are a writer thinking of publishing, give some thought to going indie. It isn’t for every author, but for some it’s the best thing in the world. Who knows? Your story might go farther than you thought it would.
January 8, 2013
On the Road Dreaming of Home
This weekend my little family, accompanied by my sister, went on a road trip for a job interview for my husband. He got us up at some unmentionable hour (the sun wouldn’t rise until about three hours later) and we packed up our car, put our sleeping little ones in their seats, and set off for Liberal, Kansas. It’s about a four hour drive, we discovered. One with lots of open fields and wide, open skies. It’s the stereotypical view of Kansas, and I loved it! There’s something immensely free about being surrounded by nothing but earth and sky. Something that speaks to the inner soul. But perhaps I feel that way because Kansas has always been my home and I love every little nuance of it.
Since Liberal is such a long ways from where we live, we had decided that it would be best to do everything in one visit: check out the housing, the schools and the community. We had left home so early in the morning so that we could attend church with the congregation there. We were welcomed in like old friends who had been away for far too long. Then we went to look at houses. The first house was a little Victorian home built in 1906. The pictures of the house on the online listing were charming and I immediately fell in love with it. Going inside did not disappoint! The house was charming, beautiful and everything I had dreamed of. The rooms were a mite small, but that would be okay. We don’t have a lot of furniture and we could easily arrange things to give the small space an open feeling. The parlor could be a music room. A window seat could be built in the alcove for mid-afternoon reading. The kitchen was perfectly sized for baking, canning and any other cooking projects I might take on. Outside was a beautiful, trellised porch with established rosebushes. I could have the most beautiful garden and be able to sit in the shade and enjoy the sweet fragrance of roses. My mind began making this little house my dream home and I fell more deeply in love with it than before.
Then we went to the second house and had just the opposite experience. Arriving there we could see wires from the house, to the garage and then to the workshop. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the wires, just a tangled mess attaching the buildings together. Walking inside we noticed that while the house appeared from the outside to have two levels, it was in fact just a ranch house with ridiculously high ceilings. The cabinets in the kitchen extended to the ceiling and in opening them we realized that we would have to buy a step ladder to even hope to use all of the shelving. The same kind of ridiculous shelving was to be found in a linen closet and the bathroom. The bedrooms were decently sized, but we were having difficulty figuring out why the listing had claimed it had four bedrooms when we had only seen two. Then we went to the basement. If we hadn’t already decided this was not the house for us, we did then! It looked like it had been taken directly from the set of Criminal Minds or some other murder mystery show. It was unfinished and there were more wires hanging exposed along the walls and from the ceiling. There was a bizarre communal shower thing in the middle of the room with a filthy drain underneath it. Someone had attempted to build two bedrooms down there by adding raised platforms so that it wouldn’t be directly on the concrete floor. As an author, my imagination began spinning with the horrible things that could have been done in that dank, disgusting space. We quickly walked back upstairs and declined seeing the garages or workshop. In the car, my husband admitted to being afraid of what might be in there. Half-jokingly, he said, “There could be a dead body.”
We then went to the third house. The only real problem with this one was that the current occupant owns dogs. Very loud, yappy dogs. My sister is not overly fond of animals and especially not of ones that growl and bark incessantly. We looked at the living areas and peeked into the bedrooms and down into the basement. The person living there must really love Dale Earnhart and Dale Jr. because there was Nascar memorabilia everywhere! Having our two-year-old son with us, we were instantly making sure that he was in someone’s arms and not able to touch anything. But the space was nice and we could see how it could be used as a playroom for our children. It wasn’t as charming as the Victorian home we had looked at first, but it was a nice home nonetheless and would be a great place for our children.
We thanked the realtor for showing us the homes and after getting some paperwork about each of the houses (we threw away the paperwork regarding the axe murderer’s house), we went to our hotel and just vegged out for the rest of the evening. We all knew that the next day would be long and busy with Jonathan’s interview.
Early the next morning we were all up and on the road again, this time a twenty-thirty minute drive to Kismet-Plains high school, Southwestern Heights. When we walked in, everyone was excited to see us and welcomed us to their school. The secretary brought Gary some toys to play with while Daddy was in his interview. My sister and I, who had planned on just sitting in the office or teacher’s lounge during the interview process, were soon invited to join Jonathan in the principal’s office. We were very impressed with the school and the area. The principal showed us the school, pointing out their planetarium, auditorium and their library. He asked each of us questions about what we liked to do, where we wanted to live, and other little things. My sister was very impressed that she was included in everything even though she would not be moving out with us if we got the job. “That was just really nice that they were genuinely interested in everything that you’re doing and even what I’m doing,” she said when we left several hours later.
The four hour drive home was very long and tiring. Gary and Abigail were both sick to death of their carseats and the last hour of the drive was spent trying to keep one or both calmed down. But overall the trip had been successful. When we had moments of peace, we dreamed and planned what we could do if we came to live in the area. It was a great trip and now all we have to do is wait to hear what the final decision will be. With any luck, we’ll be moving to a little house in southwestern Kansas sometime this summer. In the meantime, we’ll continue to dream.
Since Liberal is such a long ways from where we live, we had decided that it would be best to do everything in one visit: check out the housing, the schools and the community. We had left home so early in the morning so that we could attend church with the congregation there. We were welcomed in like old friends who had been away for far too long. Then we went to look at houses. The first house was a little Victorian home built in 1906. The pictures of the house on the online listing were charming and I immediately fell in love with it. Going inside did not disappoint! The house was charming, beautiful and everything I had dreamed of. The rooms were a mite small, but that would be okay. We don’t have a lot of furniture and we could easily arrange things to give the small space an open feeling. The parlor could be a music room. A window seat could be built in the alcove for mid-afternoon reading. The kitchen was perfectly sized for baking, canning and any other cooking projects I might take on. Outside was a beautiful, trellised porch with established rosebushes. I could have the most beautiful garden and be able to sit in the shade and enjoy the sweet fragrance of roses. My mind began making this little house my dream home and I fell more deeply in love with it than before.
Then we went to the second house and had just the opposite experience. Arriving there we could see wires from the house, to the garage and then to the workshop. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the wires, just a tangled mess attaching the buildings together. Walking inside we noticed that while the house appeared from the outside to have two levels, it was in fact just a ranch house with ridiculously high ceilings. The cabinets in the kitchen extended to the ceiling and in opening them we realized that we would have to buy a step ladder to even hope to use all of the shelving. The same kind of ridiculous shelving was to be found in a linen closet and the bathroom. The bedrooms were decently sized, but we were having difficulty figuring out why the listing had claimed it had four bedrooms when we had only seen two. Then we went to the basement. If we hadn’t already decided this was not the house for us, we did then! It looked like it had been taken directly from the set of Criminal Minds or some other murder mystery show. It was unfinished and there were more wires hanging exposed along the walls and from the ceiling. There was a bizarre communal shower thing in the middle of the room with a filthy drain underneath it. Someone had attempted to build two bedrooms down there by adding raised platforms so that it wouldn’t be directly on the concrete floor. As an author, my imagination began spinning with the horrible things that could have been done in that dank, disgusting space. We quickly walked back upstairs and declined seeing the garages or workshop. In the car, my husband admitted to being afraid of what might be in there. Half-jokingly, he said, “There could be a dead body.”
We then went to the third house. The only real problem with this one was that the current occupant owns dogs. Very loud, yappy dogs. My sister is not overly fond of animals and especially not of ones that growl and bark incessantly. We looked at the living areas and peeked into the bedrooms and down into the basement. The person living there must really love Dale Earnhart and Dale Jr. because there was Nascar memorabilia everywhere! Having our two-year-old son with us, we were instantly making sure that he was in someone’s arms and not able to touch anything. But the space was nice and we could see how it could be used as a playroom for our children. It wasn’t as charming as the Victorian home we had looked at first, but it was a nice home nonetheless and would be a great place for our children.
We thanked the realtor for showing us the homes and after getting some paperwork about each of the houses (we threw away the paperwork regarding the axe murderer’s house), we went to our hotel and just vegged out for the rest of the evening. We all knew that the next day would be long and busy with Jonathan’s interview.
Early the next morning we were all up and on the road again, this time a twenty-thirty minute drive to Kismet-Plains high school, Southwestern Heights. When we walked in, everyone was excited to see us and welcomed us to their school. The secretary brought Gary some toys to play with while Daddy was in his interview. My sister and I, who had planned on just sitting in the office or teacher’s lounge during the interview process, were soon invited to join Jonathan in the principal’s office. We were very impressed with the school and the area. The principal showed us the school, pointing out their planetarium, auditorium and their library. He asked each of us questions about what we liked to do, where we wanted to live, and other little things. My sister was very impressed that she was included in everything even though she would not be moving out with us if we got the job. “That was just really nice that they were genuinely interested in everything that you’re doing and even what I’m doing,” she said when we left several hours later.
The four hour drive home was very long and tiring. Gary and Abigail were both sick to death of their carseats and the last hour of the drive was spent trying to keep one or both calmed down. But overall the trip had been successful. When we had moments of peace, we dreamed and planned what we could do if we came to live in the area. It was a great trip and now all we have to do is wait to hear what the final decision will be. With any luck, we’ll be moving to a little house in southwestern Kansas sometime this summer. In the meantime, we’ll continue to dream.
January 3, 2013
Resolutions
It's a new year and that means that people the world over are setting goals to accomplish in 2013. I'm no different and have set myself several goals for the coming year. Some of them are pretty standard, like losing those extra pounds left over from having a baby and the holidays. Note to self: having a baby right before the holidays was maybe not helpful to my weight-loss goals.
But most of my goals are writing related and I'm going to share them with you for two reasons:
1) If you know what my goals are, it forces me to actually accomplish something. I would hate to disappoint you.
2) It lets you know what to expect this year and gives you something to look forward to.
So my writing goals for this year include:
1) Finish "Mischief, Mayhem and NOT Burning the House Down" before the January 14 submission date for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest. If for some reason "Mischief" is not ready, Finding Prince Charming will be submitted in its place. In either case, "Mischief" will be finished and released by March 2013
2) The third book in the "Charming" series will be written and released by the end of the year. Working title: "Prince Charming's Search".
3) Once my brother is home from his mission (mid-April), I will start a children's story series entitled "The Many Adventures of Dinky Doink and Lanky Lou" to be illustrated by said brother. Hopefully the first will be released in May or June 2013.
Other book related goals will be:
1) At least one blog post a week.
2) A Facebook post daily.
3) Book trailers for each of the completed books (currently that would be Charming Academy and Finding Prince Charming).
4) Possible creation of an audio version of Charming Academy. We're still working out the details for that.
Anyway, those are my goals this year; along with losing the baby weight from having Abigail and a few other miscellaneous things. I hope all of you had a safe and wonderful New Year's celebration. What are your New Year's Resolutions?
But most of my goals are writing related and I'm going to share them with you for two reasons:
1) If you know what my goals are, it forces me to actually accomplish something. I would hate to disappoint you.
2) It lets you know what to expect this year and gives you something to look forward to.
So my writing goals for this year include:
1) Finish "Mischief, Mayhem and NOT Burning the House Down" before the January 14 submission date for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest. If for some reason "Mischief" is not ready, Finding Prince Charming will be submitted in its place. In either case, "Mischief" will be finished and released by March 2013
2) The third book in the "Charming" series will be written and released by the end of the year. Working title: "Prince Charming's Search".
3) Once my brother is home from his mission (mid-April), I will start a children's story series entitled "The Many Adventures of Dinky Doink and Lanky Lou" to be illustrated by said brother. Hopefully the first will be released in May or June 2013.
Other book related goals will be:
1) At least one blog post a week.
2) A Facebook post daily.
3) Book trailers for each of the completed books (currently that would be Charming Academy and Finding Prince Charming).
4) Possible creation of an audio version of Charming Academy. We're still working out the details for that.
Anyway, those are my goals this year; along with losing the baby weight from having Abigail and a few other miscellaneous things. I hope all of you had a safe and wonderful New Year's celebration. What are your New Year's Resolutions?
