He used a ray gun to control the weather, but I can do it by following these simple steps.

TO MAKE IT RAIN:

1. Check the forecast online and find out that it is not predicted to rain until late in the evening.

2. Turn on the sprinklers in the front and back yards of your home.

3. Go for a walk with your four year old and two year old daughters around the mile long nature trail behind your house, walking quickly in order to return in time to move the sprinklers to another location without flooding the yard.

4. Get halfway around the pond at the farthest point from your home.

Voila! Instant downpour!


TO MAKE IT CONTINUE:

1. Be sure that your four year old stops as often as possible in the rain to pick grass by the side of the trail. (This is the most important step if you want to ensure a really good steady rain-shower.)

2. Whenever possible, try to get your two year old to beg to be carried and then demand to be allowed to walk and then beg to be carried all while refusing to ride in the stroller that you brought along in anticipation of this situation. She is NOT a baby! This is also very helpful to make sure that the rain does not let up.

See? Only two easy steps!


TO MAKE IT STOP RAINING:

1. Arrive home.

This is the easiest of all. The second you step foot back on your own property, the sun will come out and the clouds will disappear. It really is quite amazing.

Now where was I? Oh yes, the white paint was drying, and I was returning the green paint for red or black paint.

http://www.examiner.com/family-recreation-in-fort-wayne/germanfest-s-family-fest-a-day-the-whole-family-will-enjoy

You don't even have to read it. Just click it.

"Pay the Missy!"

Can we start a chant?

This morning, my two year old, Mercy Jane, farted unexpectedly, and it was a long chain of loud farts. She gasped; her eyes got really big around, and she quickly grabbed her little bottom. Then in a tone of wonder she said, "Mommy! I have a motorcycle in my pants!"

My second article is up!

http://www.examiner.com/family-recreation-in-fort-wayne/taste-your-summer-at-auburn-s-strawberries-the-park-festival

You guys! I AM AN AUTHOR! OFFICIALLY!

Now, it's not the children's book that I'm still hoping to find a publisher for; it's something else. My friend Brenda sent me a link a few weeks ago about getting paid to write articles on the internet. I did a lot of research on the subject, and I finally found a website that I felt comfortable with. There are a lot out there, but not all of them "felt" either reputable to me or that I might be a good fit for. I was also leery of sites that accepted just any article from any person.

Anyway, I finally applied for a job with one website, but I was extremely nervous because they gave me five different mini writing assignments during the application part. Many people, well, many of you all have complimented my writing style, but it is something completely different to send my work to a professional editor hoping that it is good enough to get me a job. My tummy was a mess!

I screamed so loudly when I read my acceptance letter late at night last week, that I woke Jeremy up, and he popped up from his pillow punching, ready to defend me from anything. (My Hero!)

For the last several days, I've been attending some online classes to become oriented with the website, it's goals, the article guidelines and what-not. Then I accepted my first writing assignment and began researching the information for the article I would be writing. It's a lot more work than I expected, but I'm really enjoying the feeling of having my brain in gear again.

I finally had all of my research finished and organized, and I was ready to write my first article. I've been having trouble with my computer lately (I think it's been ever since I upgraded to Internet Explorer 9), and I just knew my computer would freeze again while I typed. It's been freezing every few hours, and I lose whatever I'm working on -- horribleness! I determined to save after every paragraph, this time. (I usually forget to save, and my only redemption are the autosave features on many websites.)

Imagine with me my horror when I found that there was no save button AND no autosave feature at my new site. !!!!! So, I needed to work as quickly as possible. The synapses in my gray matter were firing quickly and creatively. It felt so good to WRITE!

And then it happened. My mouse quit moving, my computer quit responding. I was over halfway through, and all those hyperlinks I had put in...I went into mourning even before the computer had finished its reboot. I knew it would all be lost. There was just one chance! If only the site had somehow, miraculously kept the information somewhere.

I logged back on, hoping. Hoping. HOPING.

No. It was gone.

And now my computer is too.

(Just kidding.)

I finally submitted my first article around 1:15 am last night, and I waited and waited for the verdict from my editor. I wasn't sure how he would respond, either by calling me, or emailing me, or if he thought my article was good enough, would he just post it on the website? I've been checking email and the website ALL. DAY.

And just now, The Email came. I saw his name in the Sender line, and my heart stopped beating. It really did. (I am actually typing this post while I am dead.)

(You should probably print it and keep it somewhere safe since it is a medical miracle and will be very valuable someday.)

He said, and I quote (because I am not above bragging), "Congratulations on posting your first article as the Ft. Wayne Family Recreation Examiner! I had a chance to review it, and I thought it was excellent - a solid read with a nice mix of information and insight."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you believe it?! He liked it!!!! In fact, he published it! Hooray!!!!

I am SO EXCITED! (Did you notice?)

So now, I am off to the website to see if I can find my article. I'll probably attach a link here so you can read it too, if you want. It's geared towards people who live near me, and it's informative rather than interesting, so all of you far away people won't get much out of it, but I think the number of clicks or reads I get affects my paycheck, so feel free to click away.

In fact, I'll go get that link now, and put it up here. (I like bigger paychecks!) :-)

This is my website http://www.examiner.com/family-recreation-in-fort-wayne/missy-sherron

This is my first ever article(!) Memorial Day Weekend 2011: Ft. Wayne's guide to budget-friendly family fun

And I apparently am not.

Today, the girls and I were cleaning up the toy room. We're preparing for a big garage sale on June 16-18 (if you're in my town, come out and buy something from us, please!)

In order to encourage the girls to quit goofing off, and in an effort to possibly instill a great work ethic into my children while they are still young, I decided that instead of firmly reminding them to keep working, I would use some sort of psychology on them. (See, the fact that I have no idea what sort of psychology I was using should have been a clue to me that I'm not licensed in this stuff.)

I looked at my playing daughters and with a joyful expression and gratefulness in my voice, I said, "Girls, you know what I am so happy about? I am so glad that I have girls who like to work hard and do a great job cleaning. That just makes me so glad!"

Without looking up from her play, Liberty offered a logical option, "We could also just tell you a joke to make you glad, Mommy."

So, I mentioned that I've been keeping a log of my daily activities, and I thought you'd enjoy this glimpse into one of my days and my attempts to get things done around the house.

7:40 - Get up
7:50 - Girls up: morning fun time together
8:00 - Spend time with God
8:15 - Stretch for the day (part of my healthy life-style)
8:30 - Feed the girls breakfast
8:40 - Get dressed
8:47 - Realize I did not get car seats out of the van (Jeremy has been driving my van to work because he sprained his ankle and can no longer operate the clutch pedal on his manual truck.)
8:49 - Call Meagan to brainstorm zoo options (we were planning to go the zoo together)
8:53 - Call Jeremy to see if trading vehicles is an option
9:01 - Call Meagan to back out of zoo trip
9:03 - Help Mercy get dressed
9:21 - Discuss with Liberty the idea of getting dressed, decide to let her play in her pajamas for a while longer

The girls are now riding their bikes around in circles inside the garage.

9:24 - Sit down to update daily log
9:33 - Eat breakfast: one whole wheat toast with butter, one granola bar (flax almond honey), two cups of water
9:44 - Hear garage door going up; tell Liberty that if she wants to play outside, she HAS to wear clothing.
9:46 - Supervise Liberty dressing herself. Help with shoes. Supervise Mercy putting her own socks on. Help with shoes.

10:03 - Both girls outside, time to clean living room

• Instruct girls outside not to swim in the giant mud puddle. Back to cleaning living room.


• Neighbor Meagan stops by to talk. Back to cleaning living room.


• Go outside to help Mercy with her stuck tricycle and decide to also bring trash can back from the street. Back to cleaning living room.


• Go outside to record girls riding bikes together (they were too cute not to record them). Back to cleaning living room.


• Go outside to give girls picnic snack: raisins, bananas, water. Back to cleaning living room.

10:52 - Living room finally finished, start cleaning dining room

• Hear Mercy crying, go outside to see what's wrong. Provide new cup of water to replace her spilled water. Mercy comes inside. Back to cleaning dining room.


• Stop Mercy from coloring on my important paperwork; set her up in the toy room with crayons. Back to cleaning dining room.


• Liberty comes inside to throw away her banana peel. She decides she wants to color, too.


• Mercy stops coloring to help me clean. Back to cleaning dining room.

11:19 - Dining room finally finished (except for chairs that I left in a train formation in the living room for Mercy to play with)

11:20 - Go see the picture Liberty has colored. Testify loudly of its wonderfulness.

11:23 - Snack time for Mommy: organic Greek yogurt, strawberries, one cup water

• Neighbor Dick comes over to chat

12:00 - Lunch time: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cantaloupe, pretzels

12:18 - Begin cleaning kitchen island

12:21 - Hear girls talking to our mailman Mark; go outside to join the conversation
12:25 - Deliver misdirected mail to our neighbor Melissa
12:30 - Open and read letter from friend Amy
12:36 - Start to call Amy, realize I haven't looked up our movie time yet, log onto computer to look up movie times
12:47 - Call Amy

12:56 - Change Mercy's diaper

1:02 - Receive phone call from Ginny just to chat

1:10 - Get shoes and socks back on the girls so we can walk around the pond.
1:14 - Remember to gather egg hunt receipts so that I can turn them in to the neighborhood association treasurer on our way home from the walk
1:15 - Go for walk
1:40 - Stop off at treasurer's house and end up talking for a while
2:03 - Start walking again

2:48 - Find a baby turtle!
2:52 - Take her home and put her in Hugs' and Kisses' old fish bowl
2:55 - Fill the bowl with mud, rocks, plants and water
3:02 - Convince the girls to leave the turtle and go to Rest Time in their room

3:03 - My snack time: walnuts, almonds, cranberries, sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds

3:06 - Finish cleaning kitchen island
3:10 - Straighten garage and front yard
3:17 - Clean rest of kitchen, do dishes, empty, refill and start dishwasher (that starting part, I'm particularly proud of because I usually forget it), plan for supper, set table, take out garbage
4:03 - Sort coupons, sort mail, catch up on emails
4:45 - Put chicken into oven
4:51 - Work on ladies' newsletter Sisterhood Sentinel

5:07 - Girls wake up
5:09 - Check on the turtle
5:12 - Small snack: one stick of string cheese
5:27 - Girls go outside; TURTLE LOST! Short search and rescue party begins

5:35 - We give up. Mercy goes to the park in our backyard; Liberty wails on the front porch over her lost turtle; I go inside to finish cooking supper

5:55 - Receive phone call from Jeremy to tell me to eat supper without him, he's running late getting home because a train is stopped on the tracks, and he loves me :-)

6:03 - Call girls in to wash up for supper
6:12 - Eat supper
6:23 - DADDY'S HOME!!!!!! HOORAY!!!!!
6:45 - Supper over; search for Lollipop Rainbow (the turtle) begins again

6:57 - Daddy is our hero! He finds Lollipop Rainbow! (She had buried herself in the mud at the bottom of the bowl.)

• We all play outside.


• LeRoy and Tricia and kids come over to chat, and they have to be introduced to our newest family member.


• Sharon and Deb stop by to chat on their way around the pond, and they have to be introduced to our newest family member.


• Liberty is beside herself with joy over Lollipop.

8:30 - Bath time for the girls
8:50 - Keys for Kids (our bedtime devotional book)
9:00 - Bedtime (otherwise known as Mommy and Daddy time!!)

9:20 - Jeremy calls his Dad, and I clean up the kitchen and dining room
9:34 - Research "How to Care for Painted Turtles" online
10:30 - Work on Sisterhood Sentinel, and then prepare for next week's Sunday School Lesson

1:06 - Go to bed (As you can see, I did not keep to my healthy bedtime schedule.)

And there you have it. I hope it amused you rather than boring you!

I've been making some changes to the way I order my days, and as a result, the blog has fallen by the wayside. That's not what I intended at all; it's just the way it happened.

It took me a while after moving from Iowa to begin putting down new roots here in Indiana. Additionally, while living in the apartment and waiting to find a home, I felt like I was dangling in a limbo zone where I could not get involved in a whole lot. In fact, Jeremy asked me not to get involved in much because he felt that he could not handle much more juggling or family responsibilities until he felt more settled.

But now: now we've moved, and not only have we moved into a wonderful house, we've also moved into a wonderful neighborhood. I feel like I am finally able to settle into life and get involved! A while ago, I began teaching the four and five year old Sunday School class at my church, then I started working on the ladies' newsletter, then my friend and I started planning an Easter Egg Hunt for our neighborhood, now we're starting a neighborhood mom's group together, and I've got plans in the works to begin a neighborhood events committee. Add onto that, the fact that I'm involved in a Wednesday night Ladies' Bible Study, a Thursday night mentoring relationship, a once-a-week soccer practice for Liberty, and a Saturday soccer game for Liberty. But you know the most wonderful part? I'm slowly making friends! Friends who want to get together, neighbors who come over just to chat with me during the day, people from church and the community who have gotten to know me and who ask me to participate in various activities, all while I'm trying to write and publish books, train my children to become Godly citizens, keep a clean house, be an awesomely sexy wife, and the list goes on.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that this new healthy life-style I'm trying to maintain requires that I get enough sleep at night. Can you imagine? No more getting extra work done after the kids go to bed. No more reading and writing blog posts until the wee hours of the morning. Now THAT is sad! (By the way, I've lost fourteen pounds in three months, so there's definitely an upside. But I'm still very sad about not blogging, and I'm missing out on the lives of my online friends. Do you know that I regularly compose blog posts in my mind during the day for you guys [but really for me, because I just can't help it], but I have no time at night to get those thoughts onto the computer before my bedtime? 'Tis a sad, sad thing!)

Suddenly, my plate is very full, and my life is overflowing with life! My days are filled to the fullest with activity of many kinds, so full in fact, that I began feeling very down about my ability to accomplish simple tasks and to meet deadlines as they come up. I told my mentor, "I'm a failure as a person. I'm not getting anything done! What is wrong with me?"

She suggested that I keep a running log of my daily activities so that I might be able to identify a pattern and make some appropriate changes. I took her advise this week, and that is when I realized: I am not a failure! The difference between these past few months and last year is the fact that I'm finally living! The reason I am exhausted at the end of the day and unable to summon the energy to remember my post (let alone type a post) is because I am no longer sitting on my rear end all day long wishing I could get involved.

I'm so grateful for this daily logging exercise that Sherry has suggested to me, because it helped me discover the surprising fullness in my life. Of course, I can find room for improvement in how I spend my time. Writing down what I'm doing from minute to minute has helped me cut my tendency to hop from task to task without actually finishing anything - that has been a huge improvement! Now, when I get interrupted from doing the dishes by my children or my neighbors or the telephone, instead of returning to the room and starting an entirely different task, I now look at my notebook where I wrote down what time I began washing dishes, and my brain says, "Oh yeah, I was washing dishes. I need to finish that."

Can you say, "BREAK-THROUGH!"

Or maybe you should say, "There's nothing shiny over here."

Hey, Everybody! I've missed you a lot. I've been crazy busy the last few weeks working on deadline after deadline after deadline. But things are finally settling down and I now have time to blog! Hooray!

Last weekend I went away with the ladies from my church for a weekend "Garden Party Getaway." And I WON a prize for the craziest flower-themed outfit! Yay for me! I also spent a few hours shopping and finally got hit with inspiration for my master bathroom decor. I'm extremely excited about this.

I know this post is lacking the story-telling style that I usually employ. If I'd had time yesterday to blog what was in my head, you would have laughed and laughed and fallen in love with my husband just a little bit more like I did, but I didn't have time to blog yesterday, and that story has gone clean out of my head.

My apologies. Keep your fingers crossed for a better post from me tomorrow!

PS> Can mediocrity actually have a "finest?"

Today, I met with my illustrator about the first story in my children's book series. (I've finished three stories so far.)

!!!!

Today, the sun shone gorgeously, and the temps got up to almost sixty.

!!!!

Today, my four-year-old, Liberty Grace decided it would be smart to cut a patch out of the back of my hair with a pair of scissors.

!!!!

Today, I earned my mother-of-the-year award -- both of my daughters are still living.

(Barely.)

It was late Sunday evening when I heard the crash, followed by shrieking wails from the girls' room. I jumped up from my facebook session so quickly that I knocked my chair over in the process. When I arrived at the girls' bedroom door, I found two little sisters standing there. Liberty had her arm wrapped protectively around her sister, and Mercy's large tear drops had created two rivers down her cheeks. Mercy looked up at me, sniffed in one last sob, and quavered bravely, "I'm okay, Mommy. I just hurt my back a little bit."


I didn't respond. My brain was too busy fitting puzzle pieces together. How did Mercy arrive at the door? I looked over at the crib and verified that the crib rails were all up and intact. Did she climb out? I looked again. She must have climbed out. In mild disbelief, I looked her over for injuries, kissed away her tears, tucked her back into her bed and very firmly informed her that she was NOT allowed to get out of bed without Mommy or Daddy's help; if she chose to get out by herself, there would be consequences.

Sitting at the computer once again, my mind had a chance to catch up, and I realized it was way past time for Mercy to begin climbing out. She is two and a half years old! Liberty climbed out very shortly after her first birthday. I continued working at the dining room table, until a slight noise caused me to turn to my left. Two big blue eyes stared solemnly at me from a few feet away in the kitchen. She was trying out her innocent look on me.

It didn't work.

She received her consequence, wailed to let me know that she didn't approve, got kissed and tucked back into bed, and the same stern warning administered. "Night-night, Sissy-girl. I love you."

"I love you, too, Mommy. I'll stay in my bed until you help me out in the morning, okay?"

"Okay, Honey. Great decision!"

I think I had been back at the computer about ten minutes when I heard the bedroom door creak as it opened, and the whisper of two little girls who haven't quite gotten the concept of whispering reached my ears.

Liberty: "It's okay, Mommy's gone. Let's go out into the hallway."
Mercy: "Okay, she's gone. You go first."
Liberty: "See? I'm out here. It's okay. Come here, Mercy."
Mercy: "Let's go to the kitchen, Grace!"
Liberty: "Okay, but be very quiet! You don't want Mommy to hear us."

I waited with a grin on my face (ready to be tucked away when necessary) as the girls crept very slowly down the hall and around the corner. I waited until they were far enough from their bedroom door that the sudden sight of me could not realistically send them scampering to their beds. Then I stood up.

Mercy froze and her little hands popped up horizontally on either side of her body as they always do when she is unsure of her next move. Liberty recovered quickly and jumped up shouting, "I have to go potty, Mommy!" She took off for the bathroom, knowing that that is the only reason she is allowed out of bed after tuck-in. Mercy watched her sister's flashing legs with an abrupt turn of her head, and then quickly turned back to examine my face. Not even a full second of time had passed. Around her bedtime pacifier she shouted, "I have to go potty, Mommy! Have to go potty!" and she took off like a rocket.

I almost laughed out loud. Mercy is not potty trained. We've been trying, oh yes, but she has informed me on a regular basis that she does not like to potty in the toilet or the potty chair. She does not want to be a big girl. She does not want candy or stickers or hugs. She would much rather potty in her diaper like she has always done. She has actually told me this; I am not joking with you.

I let her run, figuring I'd catch up with her in the bathroom where she would refuse to pull her diaper down or sit on the toilet. But when I could finally see into the little room, I witnessed an unusual sight. Liberty sat on the big toilet, and Mercy sat on the potty chair facing her with her diaper down around her ankles, the two of them happily singing away. I pondered for a few moments and then decided not to ruin the first good experience Mercy has had with the potty chair.

I sat back down at the computer and waited for my songsters to give up their charade. It took a long time. Finally, Liberty requested her bottom wiped (my favorite part of motherhood), and Mercy told me, "I goed potty, Mommy! Wipe my bottom, please!" I walked back into the bathroom fully expecting to find Mercy dancing around, but lo and behold, she was right! She DID go potty!

I gasped, "Mercy? Did you do this all by yourself?" I pointed at the puddle in the potty chair. She nodded proudly. "Wow! You went potty?! This is great, Mercy Jane!" I gave her a giant hug, picked her up into the air and swung her around for fun. I thought about giving her a piece of candy for finally going potty, but it was after bedtime. AND she had not really gotten out to go potty, that was just a lucky break for her. I decided a big hug and not getting a consequence for deliberately sneaking out of her room would be enough of a reward for pottying this time.

The next morning, we dismantled her crib and turned it into a big girl bed. I have some really cute pictures and a video, but I can't figure out how to get them off my phone.

Liberty has been discussing the growth of her toenails with me randomly for the past several days. Today, at lunch, she stated in her BIG IDEA voice, "Mommy! I know! I can ask God to make my toenails stop growing and stay the same for always! Right, Mommy?!"

"Well, that's right, you can ask God for that, but He wants your toenails to keep growing."

"Why?"

"Because He made you that way, and He knows it is best for your toenails to keep growing and for us to keep clipping them."

"But how does God know that is best? I don't think that is really best."

"Because He is way super smart. He is so much smarter than we are, and He knows that it is good for us to have toenails that keep growing."

Liberty pondered this while she munched on her sandwich. After two seconds of silence, she asked, "Mommy? What was your name when you were a little tiny baby?"

"My name was Melissa Jane." I thought about my verb tense as I said it but decided to roll with it.

"Ohhh," Liberty nodded knowingly. "How little were you when you were Mehwisha Jane?"

"Well, I was so little, that Grandpa, my daddy, could hold me in only one arm, like this." I demonstrated.

Mercy looked up from her plate, "Mommy? Your daddy could hold you like this?" She pantomimed holding a newborn in her arms. When I nodded, she said, "That's very little."

"Yes."

"But Mommy," Liberty wanted to know, "how come I never saw you when you were that little?"

"Because you weren't born yet."

"Why wasn't I born yet?"

While I paused to figure out the answer to that question, Mercy piped up with wonder in her voice, "Mommy! When I take my turkey out of my bread, I still have mayonnaise on my sandwich!" By the tone of her voice, this obviously was a Great Discovery.

"Wow!" I responded, matching her excitement.

"Mommy? Where you this little when Grandpa could hold you with one arm?" Liberty indicated the size of a pea with her index finger and thumb. I thought about telling her I was that little when I was inside Grandma's tummy, but held back, not wanting to answer all of the questions that would undoubtedly ensue from that bit of info.

Instead, I laughed, "Noooo!"

"How about this big?" her fingers indicated a golf ball now.

"Nooo! Babies are usually this big when they are first born, not any smaller than that." I used my hands to outline a preemie.

Mercy disagreed, "Team Umizoomi is this big, Mommy," she pointed out.

"You're right, Sissy, but Team Umizoomi is pretend. Real people are usually this big when they are babies."

"Mommy!" Liberty shouted with sudden inspiration, "I want to watch Diego when I'm done with my lunch!"

I thought about it. Since every Wednesday we have English Class (letter recognition and writing), Cooking Class (we made smoothies and smoothie pops today) and Cleaning/Health Class (they took a bath - systematically cleaning themselves, and then cleaned their bathroom - systematically following a list of items to be cleaned and learning why cleaning themselves and the things around them is important)... Anyway, since every Wednesday we have English Class, I told them they could watch an episode of Super Why which teaches them to recognize the alphabet.

"I want to watch Dora!" Mercy exclaimed.

"Sorry, Sissy, not today."

"That's because Dora is pretend," Liberty explained to her little sister.

"Yeah, and Diego is pretend, too," Mercy shot back.

"Super Why is pretend, too," I inserted, and they both looked at me in amazement.

Then Liberty's face lit up, "That's why they're this little, Mommy!" She showed me with her fingers how tall they were, and I couldn't hold it in. I laughed, and we all started laughing together.

"Mommy," Liberty told me in a thoughtful voice, "I'm glad you're not Bewhissa Jane anymore. I'm really glad your name is Mommy."

While reading a post of the same title by my friend PJ, I was reminded of an incident that happened to me a few years ago while traveling to a business meeting.

*******

In order to arrive at the morning meeting in a timely fashion, I picked up my rental car after work and began driving to the hotel where I would be staying for the night. Around ten-thirty pm, I pulled into a gas station to refuel, stretch my legs, and use the restroom. The station looked run down, a little sketchy, and distant from other businesses, and I considered picking a more well-lit place with a happier vibe, but my bladder urged me to stop here. Besides, I knew that the stretch of highway ahead of me held no exits for another several miles.

I kept my guard up while locking my car doors and sauntering into the building, and I memorized the layout of the store while walking towards the bathroom. I also took a hard look at the only person present, the cashier standing behind a counter and protected by what I could only assume was bullet-proof Plexiglas. Not reassuring.

When I opened the bathroom door, I realized two things: first that a motion sensor over the doorway had picked up the movement of the door and turned the lights on for me, and second that the bathroom was unusually long and narrow. The sink and toilet sat at the far end of the room, and I felt claustrophobic as I sat down.

I'll spare you the details (mainly because I don't remember them), but apparently, I sat on the throne long enough for the timer on the lights to go off. My first thought was one of those horror film scenes where the lights get cut off right before the gorgeous and brilliant heroine gets brutally murdered. My second thought was that the electricity to the building must have gone down. Then I finally realized the motion sensor had not had any motion to sense, so I waved my hand to turn the lights back on.

Nothing happened.

I waved again.

Again nothing.

I began wildly wiggling my arms and legs while still perched on my throne.

No result.

My heart raced along with my brain as I stopped to think about the scenario in which I had found myself trapped. Then I cleverly removed my right shoe and heaved it towards where I remembered the door to be. Then my left shoe.

Still Darkness.

I sat, wanting to cry and feeling a panic rising in my throat. I'm not normally afraid of the dark, but this darkness felt so thick and complete. I thought of the phrase "So dark you can't see your hand in front of your face," and I tried it out. Nope, no hand.

I began imagining my future. I wouldn't be missed until morning when my co-workers would wonder why I had not arrived at the meeting, and even then, how would they think to send the police to this particular restroom at this particular gas station? I thought of my cell phone locked in the car outside. I wondered if the cashier with the bushy, unkempt beard would remember seeing me walk to the restroom and wonder what was taking me so long. Then I embarrassed myself, imagining the scene if he unlocked the door with his master key and found me still sitting there, shoeless.

I finally gathered up the courage to stretch my nice clean fingers out towards where the toilet paper should be bolted to the hopefully equally clean wall. The coldness of the concrete blocks greeted my fingertips, and I had to force myself not to recoil, to continue searching. A few minutes later, I had to force myself to put my sock feet down on the dirty linoleum and step, step, step to the door.

*Shudder*

When I got to the door, I waved my hands over my head, but still nothing happened. I had to feel my way around the door until I reached the handle. When I opened the door a crack, the lights blazed on, and I quickly re-locked the door, slipped my shoes back on and ran to the sink to speed wash and disinfect my hands before the lights had time to shut themselves off again.


See, I told you all the best stories contained TMI!

Alright, you guys, I need help.

I've been back and forth on my eating habits. I think it was Saturday(?) when I finally decided, Enough of this! I am going to do right! Amazingly, I even did great while at a KFC buffet Sunday afternoon with my family. Can you believe it? (Yes, I'm patting myself on the back.)

But Wednesday evening Bible Study buffets seem to be my downfall. You see, every Wednesday night, I go to a Bible Study at church, and the ladies all bring the most deliciously tempting assortment of food. Last night, I told myself, I will be very good. So I took only a small spoonful of salad, and a small spoonful of the to-die-for chili (I'm going to have to get that recipe!) and a small amount of tortilla chips (as in seven, count 'em, seven chips). But the end of the line contained my weakness: chocolate chip cookies...and other desserts. So I stood there, thinking.

I've done a great job the past few days. In fact, I've actually eaten less calories than I'm supposed to be eating - totally by accident, I assure you - I can have some dessert. Which is true! I'm not cutting out desserts; I'm just being reasonable.

I scooped a square of banana bread with cream cheese frosting onto my plate and thought about walking away, but the next dessert was one of those beautiful concoctions covered with all sorts of colorful, chopped fruits. You know, it's very important to eat fruit. I said to myself, so I picked one of the larger pre-cut squares. (I wouldn't want to skimp on nutrition.) Again, I thought about walking away, but you know what plate was next in line? The chocolate chip cookie plate. And I truly have never seen any chocolate chip cookies in my life that looked better than those did. They were the perfect size, texture, smell, everything! I really did think about walking away. I should get points for that, right?

I took two.

Only two little circles of heaven.

That's good, right?

Of course, after the main learning and before the discussion, I went back for two or three more.

And then after the Bible Study group dismissed, I snagged another one or two.

This is getting embarrassing.

Here's how you can help: On Wednesdays BEFORE the meeting, please message, comment or email me with helpful humor like - DON'T DO IT! or IT'S NOT WORTH IT!

And if you happen to be at the Bible Study with me, I give you permission to examine my plate for excessive cookie consumption.

Galatians 6:2 says, "Carry each other's burdens," right? So, give a sister a hand! (And if you happen to be holding a few cookies in the hand you extend to me, I'll be your best friend forever.)

Whew, I am worn. flat. out.

Liberty and Mercy had a couple friends over today from about 1:00 pm to 8:30 pm, and the running and shrieking and jumping and hugging and sobbing and laughing and chocolating (it starts early) and just all around silliness was a sight to behold! The muscles on my face even now, an hour later, feel strange if they aren't smiling widely. Those four girls together were hysterical!

The non-stop action, hilarity, craziness and just plain fun reminded me of my childhood, and I'm missing my brothers and sisters badly right now. Memories of our own unique brand of nonsense games are flooding my heart and causing chuckles. What a wonderful life I've had! :-)

You remember that overgrown spider who disappeared in my bathroom a week or so ago, right?

He's back.

And taunting me from his perch 20 feet higher than my head.

I've been on high alert ever since the day he disappeared. Two days later, I moved some papers on the desk in my bedroom, and his petite cousin scurried into my desk drawer to hide. The drawer! I ask you, what was I to do?

First I shrieked. Then I prayed.

Beside himself with glee at my predicament, my husband laughed from the other side of the room while I timidly yanked the drawer open, jumped back, waited, slammed the drawer shut, jumped back, waited, yanked it open again, jumped back, waited, found a nearby ruler to stir things up a bit, then shrieked and jumped back again when the little acrobat bungee jumped from the desk to the carpet below.

"Wilfred's getting away again!" Jeremy The Vigilant informed me, thrilled that I was being bested by the same arachnid.

"That's not Wilfred!" I responded, trying desperately not to lose the creature in the fibers of the rug, "She's too small. This is his cousin, Trina. Throw me a shoe! I need a shoe!"

He tossed me a flimsy slipper and called out, "You're really going to kill a helpless little spider named Trina?"

The slipper disappointed me. I had been hoping for a sturdy, steel-toed boot to do the deed. The flexibility of the slipper meant I'd have to put my hand farther down on the shoe and thus closer to the object of my murderous intent. "I sure hope so." I muttered, not at all sure of my ability to do so. Not after Wilfred's mysterious get-away earlier that week.

I smooshed the slipper into the thick carpeting, and Trina, whether by her own powers or forced upwards by the springy fibers, jumped about a foot sideways and closer to me. I screamed again and lost all control of my arm. It slammed and slammed and slammed and slammed, until Jeremy shouted, "Stop! She's got to be dead by now!"

My heart thudded loudly in the silence. I slowly removed the slipper from the small black body and watched for a flicker of movement. Finally, convinced she wasn't faking, I stood up to get a burial shroud from the bathroom. I planned to bury her at sea in a solemn ceremony, but when I returned to the scene of her death, I couldn't find her. Not even a chalk outline helped me remember exactly where she had been.

Another few days passed. As has now become my habit, I checked the bathroom doorway and ceiling for Wilfred the Terrible upon entry, and this time, I didn't even flinch when I found his adjutant, Darius, sitting over the garden tub. I considered mustering my artillery battalion, but two resounding defeats in a row had my men discouraged. I took in their state of despair and the enemy positioned on the higher ground and decided it would be a more strategic move to let this battle pass. My troops needed more time to recover and rebuild before our next engagement; besides, lulling Darius into a false sense of security could prove to be the smartest move yet in my war against Wilfred the Terrible.

It has now been almost two weeks since my first and last sighting of Wilfred. Until yesterday. I sat in my favorite ugly upholstered rocking chair, drinking in the silence of naptime. My shoulder muscles slowly relaxed, my head finally dropped back against the headrest, and I saw him. Lounging about ten inches from the highest point of the living room's cathedral ceiling, Wilfred sits and watches.

He knows I cannot reach him. He has seen the burned out bulbs in our living room light and has correctly surmised that not even our ten foot ladder can come to our aid. Great strategist that he is, he also waited until I decorated the fireplace mantel for Valentine's Day with a length of red tulle, white lights and glass framed pictures of my love and I. He knows, he knows I will not risk firing at him only to have his heavy body drop onto the breakable items below.

For two days, we have stood at an impasse -- I, surreptitiously glancing at him from time to time, pretending that he matters naught to me, and he, laughing to himself as he reclines on my living room wall, his legs crossed, his chin resting on his knees, observing my habits, learning my movements.

I will tell only you this: I am feeling at a distinct disadvantage. Thankfully, spiders cannot read -- I would eat my blog before allowing him to know how I am feeling at this moment.

The other day, Liberty, Mercy and I were at the chiropractor's office. Dr. C has become a friend, and the girls just love to visit with him. He took note of Mercy's purple, polka-dotted baby doll top, sparkly jeans and crisp white hair bow, and he told her, "Mercy, you look so pretty today."

Now, I've taught my girls to say "Thank you," when someone says something nice about them, but Mercy just looked earnestly into his face and said matter of factly, "Yep." Then she nodded to reaffirm his assessment of her looks.

Dr. C and I both laughed, "Nothing like an extra dose of self-esteem, huh?" he said jokingly.

A little bit later, Dr. C told Liberty, "Oh, Liberty, that huge diamond on your shirt is so sparkly!" Liberty nodded and pointed to her hair bow, "And look at this, Dr. C!" she encouraged him. "It is so pretty, too!"

"Yeah, you missed a compliment, there, Dr. C," I muttered facetiously for only him to hear. We laughed again and started talking about how hard it is for some people accept compliments. He pointed out that most adults, when complimented, instead of graciously accepting it with a thank you, try to put themselves down. Apparently, that is one of his pet peeves because he continued talking about it while he worked on my spine.

A few minutes later, we were discussing another subject when Liberty asked Dr. C a technical question about one of the machines nearby. He answered her and then said to me, "She's going to be an engineer like her daddy when she grows up."

"No, I don't think so. That's Mercy."

"Why do you say that?" he wanted to know.

"Because Mercy's brain works like her daddy's, and Liberty's definitely works like mine."

"Ah, then Liberty's going to be an incredible mommy when she grows up," he complimented me.

But I didn't recognize the compliment - my mind was still focused on what Liberty might grow up to be. I could see her being a good mommy, so I nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

He cracked up laughing and when he could breathe again, said, "Now I see how your girls learned to accept compliments!"

On my drive into town today, Liberty's concerned voice piped up from the back seat. "Mommy, do you have your money with you?" She asked this because a few weeks ago, we tried to eat at Subway using a check to pay. We now know that our Subway does not accept checks, even the checks of nice, innocent-looking people like us. I wonder if our crossed fingers gave us away?

"Yes, I do, honey."

"Oh, good, Mommy. How much do you have?"

"Enough."

"Is 'enough' a lot of money?" she wanted to know.

"Well," I thought about it, "'enough' means God has given us all the money that He thinks we need."

She squealed, "Oh, good! Now we can buy everything! This is GREAT, Mommy!"

I laughed. "Actually, it would not be a good decision to buy everything with our money." I saw a teaching moment on the horizon and reached for it. "We should talk to God and ask Him what He wants us to do with the money He gives us. Then, we can spend the money on only the best things."

She was impressed, "Oh! You're right, Mommy! I know what the best things are! We need to buy a horse, so I can ride on him." (This is her latest obsession.) "And after that, we can buy the best puppet." (Puppy.) "And then a kitty cat for our house, because it is the best. And then..."

While her best list grew, I had to laugh silently, because my best list looks like this: living room furniture, dining room table and chairs, back deck... And I'm quite certain my list was a direct revelation from God! ;-)

*Note to self: get that kid a horse! We can keep it in the basement.*