Once Again, Blowing Stuff Up

Yeah, I know, my friends at Homeland Security are loving this. I'm going to tell you a secret about myself. My daughter likes to play on Neopets. Except, as I'd like to remind any men who think they'd like to marry her, she has expensive taste. And, because she is only 6, she sucks at all the games at which you earn the points to buy the expensive little "things". So, being the indulgent parent, I play the games, earn the points, and she spends them. I'm telling you, marrying her off is going to be SUCH a chore.

Anyway, when I'm frustrated with something, I log in to her account, and I blow things up. She gets points, I release stress. Well, I've been blowing stuff up all night. See, when I started this Nano book, I had no idea how challenging it was going to be to me spiritually. I've written books before, but this is the first one, other than the one I'm editing to include more spiritual tones, that is overtly a spiritual book. Well, there was also the one... but we won't go there, okay? And, as much as I'd like to proudly have the "I did the Nano thing" banner again this year, it's not going to happen.

Along the journey, I realized that there is something more important than my goals. EEK! I'm growing. This is hard for a goal-driven person like me. To have to step back and say, the goal isn't important. Because even though I initially said that was the goal, the important thing became God saying, "Hey, there's something important I need to teach you here." I have less than 24 hours left in the challenge, and only 24,000 words written out of 50,000. You do the math. Yes, I've had 20K days (that nearly killed me, and I did NOTHING but write), but I'm not going to do it. I'm not even going to try.

I'm dancing around these chapters right now, because while this book is a definite parallel of the Hosea story, I've taken enough artistic license and deviated from the Bible that there's some differences. Maybe enough that only people who I tell it's a Hosea book will see it for what it is. I don't know. What I do know is that here I am, in a room full of drug dealers, and there's this one-Tony. He's trying to save Gomer from the drug lord and bring her back to Hosea. He's so honorable, he's so amazing, and yet, I have to kill him. There's this part of me that wants Tony and Gomer to end up together, because he's such an amazing man and he loves her so much. And yet, he has to bring Gomer and Hosea back together.

I've written the book out of order, because I was so excited to blow things up. The big explosion? Tony dies in it. Yeah, I know, I ruined the book. It's only halfway. :) But somehow, I have to get Tony and the drug lord to the building before it blows up. AND, I have to make Gomer willing to go with Hosea after it happens. She doesn't have to love him at this point, but she has to go.

In this struggle, I'm learning something about God. He doesn't want these bad things to happen to us. He doesn't want us to get blown up. But like Tony, we have choices. He's made the conscious decision to be where he is at. He's chosen to seek his own form of vengeance rather than trusting in the Lord, and even though he is a wonderful loving man who has good intentions, he's still going to have to live the consequences of his actions. Which is a lot like how we are in our relationships with God. Our intentions are good, but sometimes we're not exactly doing what He wants us to be doing. And sometimes that means suffering negative consquences. The good news is that in the end, we're going to end up in Paradise with God. But the journey itself-it's not going to be perfect or easy.

So what on earth does this have to do with blowing stuff up? I'm sort of in a holding pattern right now, because as I started thinking about what this book meant to me, God did one of his famous taps on my shoulder and now I'm supposed to be reading commentaries about Hosea. As if. Yes, I'm going to do it. And no, I'm not procrastinating. I am researching, so if you want to share any suggestions, please do so. Believe it or not, blowing stuff up helps me think. So I'm off in Neopia, blowing up bad guys, earning points for my kiddo, and by the end of this stage in the journey, I expect she'll be a fully spoiled Neopian Millionaire.

And no, my beloved Tori, I have not forgotten about our beloved Veronica (or Jericho, another shared passion). I am just so freaking homicidal over both shows that I have no comments that I won't get arrested over, so I'll wait until I'm calm and have viewed them again. *batting eyelashes*

Taking Courage

God is so not funny most of the time. Seriously. I was debating about church tonight, That Man was working again, and it had started to snow. But I just felt this God tug at my heart that I needed to go. So okay, fine. I packed up the kiddos and braved the snow to head to church. The roads weren't bad, so I was pretty happy. I get to church, no big deal.

And the topic was the Serenity prayer, and they were going to be talking about courage and wisdom. Okay. Fine. Nothing I really needed, but I'll bite. Now, I have to be nice in saying this, because I found out that people from my church read my blog, but I also have to be honest. It was *SO* not what I was hoping for. A couple bits of Bible nuggets, but mostly their personal stories. Blech. I've been needing to dig in the Word, so it just wasn't soul filling. However, I always do get good things out of anything, so I did pick up a couple things.

Finally, the guest speaker, Bob Krulish, says something that made God do His fun little, "HEY DUMMY" prod. Bob was talking about his battle with colon cancer and how when he got the news, he asked God if he should be worried, God said no, and because of the things God had already brought him through, he trusted God and didn't worry. Huh. Okay, Lord, what exactly does this have to do with me?

Well, we got out of church, and the little snow had turned into a lot of snow. As I wiped the snow off my car, I noticed police cars with lights on heading in the exact direction I have to go. Lovely.

See, I have this huge fear: driving in snow. I lay the blame solely on my parents, who spent my entire childhood groaning about how it was sooo dangerous to drive on the snow. Before I ever took the wheel, I was terrified of driving in snow. So here I am, a neurotic adult who's afraid to drive in snow. It's seriously so bad that I will do anything to avoid driving in it. If I have to go to work in snow, I make That Man drive me. I literally shake in fear when I'm behind the wheel in snow-white knuckled and the whole bit.

So while they didn't share a whole lot of Bible verses on courage, I had a few of my own in my arsenal. After all, I did make my daughter memorize Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." As I think I mentioned before, I was motivated solely in my desire to memorize it myself. And it served me well, as I drove home.

The Lord was with me. He's with me wherever I go. I just need the prod to remember it. During my careful maneuvers, I said this verse over and over, remembering what Bob had said-God has saved me from a number of hard times. And when He said He was with me, I had no choice but to believe Him. He's been faithful to me and He has NEVER broken a promise to me.

See, the point of my going to church tonight was not that I needed to hear the message so much as I needed to encounter God in the tangible way of driving through the snow and ice without the fear that consumes me. Oh, don't get me wrong. I was still afraid. God doesn't take the fear away. But He does give courage. If you are willing to take it. Because the funny thing about taking courage is that you have to act. You have to move. God will move with you.

It took 40 minutes to make a 15 minute trip. But we made it safely and without incident. God kept us safe, despite bad roads, that as the news reported later, was the cause of several bad accidents.

The most humbling part of it all is that the final song we sang (one of my favorites), Pledge, went through my head, especially the chorus, which says:
Forgive me now
I don't know how
To love You like I should
I pledge my vow to learn somehow
To love You like I should

I don't know how to love God the way I should. I wish I did. But nights like tonight, when I take a little more courage, and trust Him even in a silly thing like driving in the snow, I learn just a little more about the incredible God I call my own.

The Joy of my Life

Yes, it's another kiddo post. Actually, it's a random post. I had a better, funnier, title for it, but last time I had a fiendishly clever title, my boss found it, didn't appreciate it, and I had to delete. So pretend I had a fiendishly clever title, and it'll make my day.

We were in the grocery store, and the kiddos had been good, plus candy bars were on sale for twenty five cents. I bought the baby some Skittles. The older child yelled loudly, "Look, Mom! S&M's!" At which point, both girls started babbling about S&M excitedly. Everyone in the checkout lane began to stare at us. I just had to smile and nod and keep saying, "Yes, those are called SKITTLES." So the kids started arguing with me that it was really called S&M. After all, my six year old IS learning to read, so she KNOWS that it starts with an "S" and they're shaped like M&Ms, so they HAVE to be S&Ms, right?

Birth control... I highly recommend using it.

Actually, as much as I say that, I do have to say the kiddos are the joy of my life. Even though they are downstairs screaming and That Man is working late again, I wouldn't trade them for anything. I spent the afternoon in B's class, helping out, and it was loads of fun. For a second I thought I might enjoy being a kindergarten teacher, and then I realized it was the cold medicine talking.

Yes, I am still sick.

I spent the night of my previous blog up all night with a puking baby. Didn't get much sleep. No sleep + developing cold = full blown cold nightmare. My friend Julie called today, and I recognized the croak in her voice. She told me that it was week two for her. I can't afford to be sick right now. This class session ends Thursday, and I start a new, accelerated session on Saturday.

And because I just can't get enough insanity in my life, I bit the bullet and joined ACFW today. I even chatted with my buddies who've been twisting my arm about it and they're searching for CPs for me. Apparently, I need to adjust this cold medication.

But hey, the kiddos have stopped screaming,so that means they've either stopped fighting or they've finally succeeded in killing each other. I was hoping for the house blowing up since it's currently trashed, but since I'm still sitting here in my bed praying for death, their evil plot didn't work. Ah well, it would be a trifle inconvenient right now to be homeless, so I suppose it's probably a good thing they didn't blow up the house. (And for all you worrywarts, NO, they do not have access to explosives or anything capable of making a fire. There's a reason we don't have knobs on the stove. However, they are smart enough to figure out a way of doing it without the necessary implements).

Okay, they've been quiet for ten minutes. Must go check. Oh wait. Never mind. Here they come. Brace yourselves.

Now it's vomit

I wish I were kidding. I say that a lot, sadly. For those of you without children, you might add this to reasons why birth control is a really good option.

That Man's family comes from a mountain town about an hour and a half away. It's a beautiful place, although it has the distinction of often being the coldest place in the continental U.S. Which is why my dream is to have a SUMMER home there. We spent one snowy Thanksgiving there and froze our butts off. However, it is gorgeous, so it was with mixed feelings that I got in the car to make the trek.

Anyway, we headed out, and it was a gorgeous day. I brought The Mistress to try to get some writing done. At this rate, it'll take a miracle to make the Nano goal. However, I'm coming down with a cold, so after hitting page 100 (sigh), I took a nap. Which, as we got ready to turn off the highway to head up the pass was rudely interrupted by a child blowing chunks.

Literally.

I woke up to little pieces of vomit flying past me. We pulled over and cleaned up best we could. However, we still had a half hour drive to the nearest town. We drove, in the stench of vomit, until we got to town, which fortunately, has a Family Dollar store. She'd puked all over the new clothes I'd bought her, plus her coat. So I bought her more new clothes.

We headed off to the church, and it's one of those old, historic churches. I think, but not 100%, I remember being told it was the first Catholic church in town. Maybe the first church period. Anyway, they don't have a restroom, it's so old. Fortunately, the priest was in residence, so we went next door to the rectory and I was able to get her cleaned up and changed there.

The funeral was good, I assume. The baby threw a fit in the very beginning, so I took her outside. I was sad to miss most of it, but I did hear a very nice portion of a tribute to Zay that was very sweet. It made me wish I'd known her when she was young, rather than as a dying old woman. Even though I do have some wonderful memories of her.

Then, we buried her, and it was a beautiful day. It had snowed the night before, but it was so warm and nice we didn't even need coats. It was cool-she was buried with her husband, and their plot was with their lifelong best friends who'd also been their next door neighbors. They even have one headstone for the four of them. After that, we visited the family plot and paid our respects to That Man's grandmother and great grandparents. It's weird to do that, because I really appreciate the grave sites and family memorials. And yet, as I explained to my daughter when we discussed whether or not she'd view Zay's body, it's just a body. She's gone up to heaven.

Anyway... afterwards, we went to a friend's home for a meal, and sick kiddo started feeling bad again, so she just laid in a chair. However, after we'd eaten a bit (she didn't have anything to eat), That Man came to get me-she'd gone outside and thrown up again. At least she didn't do it in a house full of mourners.

So, we quickly packed up and headed out. Kiddos fell asleep right away. I thought, cool, I can sleep too.

Guess what woke me up?

Fortunately, this time, we had the trash can right there for her to throw up in. But I'll tell you, that sound and smell of puke will keep a body wide awake.

We got home, kiddo now feels great. I, however, am feeling like crap. No puke so far, but I definitely feel like I was hit by a freight train. Things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving-that we took That Man's car AND he's got an all leather interior. Much easier to clean up. :)

Turkey Day (and crap!)

Yeah, still on that train.

Went to bed last night to find that my bedroom smelled of man butt. It's pretty funny, because we ended up doing the "chase the man around the room with air freshener" game. Actually, once I got him out of the room, I used the can on his side of the bed. Yes, single gals, this is what you get to look forward to in marriage-man butt.

So this morning, I woke up, got ready for the big Turkey event, and headed over to my FIL's for the big family event. Okay, I don't have a clever way to say it, but basically, the crap was that I found out DH's great aunt passed away last night. Zay has been really sick for a while, and we knew it was going to happen soon-we intentionally planned on having this huge Thanksgiving because we were pretty sure it would be Zay's last. I realize it's semi selfish, but I'm so disappointed that our chance to say goodbye never happened. It really was her time to go and her suffering is over now.

It makes me realize that we never know how long any of us are going to have-and I know that while I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, I didn't have to see her at a point when she probably wouldn't have recognized us anyway. And I'll get the chance to see her again. It'll be neat-because she'll have the presence of mind to finally tell the stories of growing up in the mining towns and all the cool historical stuff I always wanted to know. But who knows, maybe we won't want to talk about that stuff at all, we'll just be chillin with the big dude instead.

Okay, being depressing now... off to go play around with Google.

Finding the Missing Poopy

Some days are just well... crappy. And, as I've blogged about before, mine tend to be literal.

I woke up this morning to, "Mommy! Poopy!" I let the critter out of her cage to find her stark naked, except for a princess tiara (on backwards) and her socks-one pink, one purple. I REALLY wanted to take a picture for my blog, but I was afraid I'd get in trouble for kiddie um, bad stuff that I won't say so the pervs don't get me when googling. She was very cute. However, her "poopy" comment meant one thing. The little turkey had gone poopy, and since her diaper was MIA, I had to dig through the pit known as her room to find it.

At which point, I step into a puddle of what can only be pee. Ah, I love this mommy business. I search for diaper and find it-completely dry. So I begin looking for the rest of her bowel functions. I tear apart the room, and don't find it. I give up because I want to clean up the puddle o' pee before the dog finds it and decides to add to it.

That mission accomplished, the little monster decides she needs to eat. I don't know why they made feeding children part of parenting. Geez! I mean, if I stopped feeding them, they'd stop going to the bathroom. ;) Anyway, kiddo gets fed and we head downstairs. She's going through a nonstop eating phase, so after she ate her yogurt, my yogurt, my pastry, an orange, my banana, she stood in the living room, happily chomping on HER banana, smiling, she starts to pee in the middle of the family room. I try to coax her into stopping and going to the toilet, but no. God help you if you bother this child while eating. You'd think I was trying to kill her rather than keep her from peeing on my carpet.

Sooo... yet again I get to clean up pee before the dog smells it and decides to re-mark his territory. I get THAT cleaned up, and realize that with all the errands I have to run, I have to get running before it gets too late. I take kiddos upstairs to find their shoes and socks. What do I smell by the sock drawer, but poop. Is it the missing poopy? I start digging (their room is a total mess-stuffed animals and blankets everywhere-they're playing some weird game with them), hoping the poop isn't on something important. I can't find it. B walks in and says, "Ew, Mom, it stinks like poop in here." I had to bite back what my mom used to tell me, even though it was probably fitting for the situation. "No s**t Sherlock." Literally.

I made her help me look, and despite our best efforts, we could not find the poop anywhere. And then, it stopped stinking, so I thought, well, maybe the baby has gas. Sometimes she farts and thinks she's got poop. We packed up ourselves, ran our errands, put the baby down for a nap, and when I got her up, I smelled it again. BAD. I looked around. No poop. She was dry, and yes, I sniffed to see if she had gas. Negative.

We went shopping, came home, and I sit down at the computer to get a little work done. HA! The dog curls up beside me, falls asleep, and just when I least expect it, he lets one rip. Yep, it's the dog. The nasty poop smell we've been blaming on the baby and trying to track all day-Wasn't her. The ugly black thing sitting next to me is the culprit. He follows me around all day, and of course, I never thought to sniff HIS butt. I mean, come on!

At this point, I'm going to assume that the missing poopy that woke me up this morning was, in fact gas. However, don't be surprised if weeks from now, I'm cleaning their room, and in some random and bizarre place, I find the missing poopy. Because you see, crap happens. And when you combine my luck with a dog and a potty training child, it happens a lot more often, and in a lot of really strange places.

You Scoundrel!!

Yes, I am ranting at the Veronica Mars writers. Okay, let me back up.

First, up until the final scene of the show, it was the BEST this season. Best, I tell you, best. Was very happy with the tender moment between Veronica and Logan and that they were finally getting back on track. But those stupid, rotten, monstrous writers can't even have them happy for an episode. The last scene... I wanted to cry. I felt so bad for Logan. You could see his heart breaking.

It's funny, I began watching the show becasue I liked her so much. At this point, I'm liking her less because she's still the same person she was when I first started watching the show. She's still funny, still smart, still kick-butt. But we keep dealing with the same emotional mess over and over. Don't get me wrong, I love getting emotionally messy. But as a writer, I'm also a fixer. And I want to see things fixed. Or at least on the path to healing. Midway through the third season, and I'm not seeing it.

I know what she's been through, and maybe that's why I'm so mad. Doesn't she deserve a break? A chance at happiness? Why is she still sabotaging herself?

Who knows, maybe all these questions will feed nicely into the next episode, which appears to have some dire circumstances for Veronica, and it'll be the wakeup call for her to grow.

I was much pleased to see in the preview that we'll be seeing Mac, although sad that someone's going to die. I bet it's her, since we haven't seen her since early in the season. :( I like Mac.

Eating the elephant one bite at a time

Which is exactly how you write a book. Even if it's that foul tasting Nano elephant. There ain't enough ketchup in the world to make it taste good.

I'm bummed because I'm pretty far from the goal at this point. Only 17K words. But you know, it's 17K more than I had at the beginning of the month. And I still have time. It's not over until the fat lady sings.

So how do you face such a grotesque challenge of writing an impossible number of words? One word at a time. One sentence at a time. One page at a time. And even when you're dead tired, and it's super late, and you really don't want to write, you open up that document and put down a word. Then two. Then three. Before you know it, you have a whole sentence. And then a paragraph. And then a page. Which is how I got in five pages.

The good news is my class took their final tonight. The bad news is it's going to be a pain to grade it all. The other good news is that I don't have to teach again for another ten days. The final ten days of the challenge. :) I'm not cooking Thanksgiving, I have no pressing engagements, so I might maybe be able to actually *gasp* have some time to myself.

Which is probably just an invitation for the universe to explode, but until it does, I'm going to live in blissful anticipation of having a few moments that others don't have a claim on. And maybe kill a few drug dealers. Tee Hee.

Killing people is such HARD work

I am still working on the suckage referred to as my Nano book. I should change my word counters on the blog, since they're way outdated, but I don't remember how. And I'm too lazy to figure it out. I did head out to the Mother Ship last night and got about ten pages written. I'd have done more, except I ran into a guy from college who I usually run into, say hi, and that's that, but last night, he decided he needed to take a trip down memory lane. Ah well, such is life. It's ten more pages than what I had before.

Trying to get some done tonight, and I'm starting to get irritated because I'm ready to just blow up the bad guys already. The one bad guy just makes my skin crawl. I've also realized just how much I need to research. OH! I just realized who would know the answers to my questions. I love having smart writer friends who don't think I'm weird when I ask my questions. Anyway, I always thought that killing off a few bad guys would be really easy. Um, not so much. Because you have to make sure the readers are okay with them dying, and that all the other characters are sympathetic, and blah blah blah.

I'm also irritated because once again, my CPs thought my hero was um, yucky. How is it that I can think this man is soooo freaking awesome and hot and tormented and sensitive and all things a hero in the making should be and they think he's a total loser? Am I just attracted to losers? And I'm sorta scared, because as I write this Nano book, with a heroine who, by today's standards, is a loser, I worry-do I have a hope of bringing out all the things I love about her on to the page so that my readers fall in love with her and want her to win just as badly as I do?

I was talking to Joni about it today, and she got excited because she could tell how passionate I am about this story and how much the Lord is revealing to me. As I told her, I'm not so sure about the market for this book. Do you know how much it sucks to be familiar with the market, to know what's selling, and to realize that the book you're writing does not fit into that category at the moment? But I just feel like God is taking me on this crazy journey for a reason and there's something He wants to reveal to me through this story.

Is it weird that I talk about God working through me on a book and yet I also am killing people in the same book? More to the point, I'm blowing them up. I honestly thought I was only a chapter away. But nooooo.... all the other stuff has to get dealt with before we can blow them up. I still have to figure out how to get all the baddies in there at once. And I don't want to kill off Tony, but I think I have to. It's nice to have a martyr in an allegorical book, doncha think?

Crazy Crazy Days...

So I was originally going to blog about the fact that I've had a couple of meltdowns this week due to all the stress in my life. But you've probably figured that out, eh?

However, our friend who's dealing with a rough divorce is in town, and somehow he's ended up staying with us. Which is fine, I'm glad we're able to provide for his need right now. In talking with him, though, I find I keep repeating the same message-the one I've been having to remember for myself with my family and other things. But I'm going to save that message for the enemy prayer blog, which I'll hopefully do tonight.

Then, I got an email from a friend asking me if an offer to stay with us I'd made was still open. I called her and we talked-so come next month, we've got a houseguest for an unspecified amount of time.

It's a crazy thing-on one hand, it's completely not in my personality to allow anyone withing my sacred fortress. However, God has been leading us in this direction for a while. One of the things I've always felt convicted on is that if we have the ability to meet a person's need, we need to do so. It's a conviction that has grown stronger over time. Then, when my brain got totally messed up because of reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne and I'd thought that it would be cool to live in community with others. We have friends who open their spare bedrooms to people who need a place to stay. We've always said we'd like to do something like that but never knew of anyone who needed it.

So here is is... our chance to live the faith we've said we wanted to live. All this time, I've felt like I've been waiting for God to jump up and say, "okay, here it is..." Well, it's happening.

The friend visiting now, he's looking for guidance-on being a husband, a father, a Christian. Are we living our lives in such a way that the things we're telling him, teaching him, come to life? Or are we just the hypocrites he's seen in so many others who've disappointed him?

The trouble with saying you believe something is that at some point, you'll be expected to live it. The trouble with a lot of people who claim to have faith is that they never take that actual step of living it. I finally picked up the new Jars of Clay CD, Good Monsters, today, and I think the most interesting thing about it (besides the fact that *gasp* I'm blogging about music other than Todd's) is that one of the main themes of most of the songs, at least in my opinion, is living out your faith in an authentic way-living what you believe.

Am I succeeding? Not so much as I like. Even though I feel like I'm able to act in ways that express my faith, I still am shamed by how little I live what I believe. When we went out with our friend last night, another friend, joined us. Truth be told, the guy is a former friend who stole a lot of money from That Man. What surprised me was how much compassion That Man and his other friend had for this guy. The money that was stolen really hit That Man hard at the time. Honestly, I'd forgotten this guy existed. And yet, the way he was welcomed back into the fold surprised me. I realized that there is still a lot of places in my heart needing to be swept out.

Ultimately, the biggest challenge that comes with living out your faith is that it reveals places where your faith needs to be strengthened. It's crazy-my life is crazy enough as it is. And yet, the craziness excites me. I long for that closeness with God, that further refining of my sinful nature into a more holy creation.

Bureaucracy kills me

I'm having to deal with my annual rehire stuff and it sucks because we have to do the whole employment verification thing. Usually not a problem because I use my passport. Sadly, I let it expire last year because when I got married, I never changed my name on my passport. In order to renew it, I need to change my name. Which necessitates going down to the courthouse for a certified copy of my marriage license. Department of State wants the "official" stuff, not a copy of what I've got here at home.

Fortunately, though, I do have my marriage certificate handy. Why? Because my Social Security card is AWOL. Which I need, since I can't use my passport. And now that I think about it, it seems odd to me that my passport will do, and yet it really doesn't prove my social security number. I guess as long as they think you are who they say you are, they assume you're honest about that. Anyway, dropped kiddo off at school, drove down to Social Security office.

Got my number. Ten people ahead of me. Baby having a great time. Security Guard gets kudos because he offered me paper and crayons to entertain baby. Two hours later, my number is called. As I go through the process of getting my card, Social Security guy says, "Did you get married?" Um, yes. A looooong time ago. At which point he informs me that when I went through this horrific process back when I got married, they sent me a new card, but never bothered changing my name. All documented, mind you. But in order to get this all fixed up, I had to prove I got married. So the guy asks me how far away I live and if I can bring him my marriage license. To his credit, he was very nice, and said when I came back, I could just come to his window, let him know I was here, and he'd get to me right away.

As I said, I DO know exactly where my marriage certificate is, so I ran home, grabbed it, raced back. At this point, it's a race against the clock because I have a bus due at my house in 30 minutes. Yes, it's taken THAT long. I got back to the office, and my guy is nowhere in sight. I did meet some very nice ladies who took to the now cranky baby, and she charmed them, thus keeping her occupied. As I waited for my guy, started calling hubby and everyone else I knew who could potentially meet my child at the bus. Of course, that's about when my guy shows up, ready for me. Got everything straightened out, raced out of there, and headed home, noticing my spedometer is not working. Prayed I wouldn't get pulled over for speeding.

I'm two miles from home, and the bus is arriving at my house. The phone rings. That Man (after calling a whole slew of folks) got a hold of my neighbor, whose son is friends with my daughter, and he met her at my door, just as she was trying to get in. Whew!

Sooo... all that work and I now am the proud owner of a piece of paper that says my card is in the mail.

Which means I should probably also find time to head over to the county now and get my marriage license so I can renew my passport. Given my luck regarding documents that I didn't think I needed, I'll probably have a burning use for it in the near future. Guess I'd better be prepared. Which means I should also brave the whole birth registry thing and get the baby's birth certificate because I didn't want to spend several hours waiting for THAT particular piece of paper.

Hours of my life wasted because bureaucracy demands exact pieces of paper to prove... what, exactly? If I were a less honest person, I could just go down the street, give them my $25, and have one, that while it wouldn't bear my name, it would at least do the trick.

Previews suck

Okay, this is mostly for Tori, but since you all decided to read my blog, you're getting a Veronica rant. TeeHee. The preview for the next one has me scared. I do NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT want the Veronica/Logan thing to end. I seriously was ready to choke her in this episode when she refused to trust him. I wanted to kill her and hold him and cry when he gave that line about the reason he didn't want to tell her was that he'd feared the look of judgement on her face. Yes, I know she has trust issues (which, BTW, is why I adore the character arcs in this show). HOWEVER, it is time she GROWS. We've been stuck in the "do not trust" arc, and I'm getting tired of it.

Which, for you non Veronica watchers (you mutant freaks!) who write, is an excellent lesson in characterization. (I'm telling you, buy the DVD sets-you need to see how flawlessly they're developed. All but the bus crash-that bit) Thomas has done an excellent job of establishing Veronica's lack of trust issues. However, we're now into Season Three, and we're in round two of Veronica/Logan (who truly belong together) and Veronica's refusal to trust him is holding them back. Logan (except when he was dealing with his own personal trauma arc stuff) has consistently proven (esepecially in this go-around) that despite things that look bad, that he can be trusted. At least by any other reasonable human being.

I like what she's learning and being shown now-the girl looking for her missing boyfriend and not caring if boyfriend was cheating (he wasn't) so long as he was okay. A good smack in the face after she'd been yet again proven wrong for not trusting Logan. So these rotten previews showing trouble in the waters because she now thinks that if she really loved him, she'd trust him, are not to my liking. Granted, the last previews that irritated me had nothing to do with the episode, so maybe there's hope. But seriously. I want her to grow up. For me to be satisfied with her growth arc, she needs to trust him. To put her faith in him and be rewarded. To see that it is okay to trust, and that even the big, bad Veronica Mars needs someone else.

Huh. That sounds like a pretty good story, eh?

Oh, and I usually don't tell you when I post on my other blog, but today I will, because I have a huge rant on my Enemy Prayer Blog and it's something that's been heavy on my heart for a while.

Why I have a love/hate relationship with Technology

First off, I would like to know WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY we can put a man on the moon, but we can't get rid of menstrual cramps. I'm telling you, the second thing I do when I walk through those pearly gates (after greeting and having a LONG conversation with the King) is hunting down that Eve chick and shaking the crap out of her for placing this curse on womankind. Anyway, for the first time in a long time, I had to spend the day in bed, it hurt so bad to move. ICK.

That Man, being male, did his duty by me at the mention of female malfunctions, handed me the laptop and took the kiddos so I could have a little peace.

If ever there was an argument for God, this would be it. Despite all our attempts to be God and "fix" the things that He made, we are still fighting the age-old female plague. Don't give me your talk of the pill and all that garbage. It don't work on me. All it does is make my body think it's pregnant, which means I puke 24/7. Yippee. Nope, we don't have it all figured out.

Anyway, I am WAY behind on the Nano goal. So I decided to be productive in my pain. And I got nearly 10K written. I've decided to treat this like an editorial deadline, and act like I have a contract riding on the end of the month. The reassuring thing about technology is that it allowed me to obsessively track my progress with a click of a button rather than having to stop and manually count. Score one for the computer nerds.

But, because I do have a job to do, I decided that I should probably earn my keep and *gasp* get some work done. Okay, I do it every day. However, despite my best efforts, it looks like I got nothing done. Why? Because of technology. I finally gave up trying to make this one set of code work. I'm going to give it a go tomorrow on the desktop, I think. The problem with the laptop is the touch mouse, I don't care what anyone else says, does not give me the precision a regular mouse gives me and I can't c&p properly to save my life. So I wasted a couple of hours on a project that I still can't get right because technology won't let me do what I want to do. I know, wah, wah, wah, but if you were at my house, you'd have heard me screaming all sorts of bad words.

As for the book-that lovely piece of explosive (pun intended) literature that I've been working on most of the day-well, it's coming along nicely. I'm almost (FINALLY) getting the H and the h in the same room, however, as an uninvited secondary character informed me, my H is not yet ready to actually see her yet. I also apparently like tormenting pregnant women, because I have yet another pregnant heroine in the hospital. It does advance the plot, which is good, because I accidentally messed up the way I was getting to the next point and this does the job nicely. It's so irritating when characters take over and decide that the nice clean way you've created to get them where they need to be blows up in your face. Literally. But it's all good. She's facing her demons, he's facing his demons, and in about another 40 pages, they'll be facing each other-and realizing that they're each other's demons. Give me another couple hundred pages and that realization will smack them in the face with the truth that they are their own demon and until they get a little Sword of the Spirit action going, those demons ain't going nowhere.

Fortunately, the one thing technology has yet to do is control my very fertile imagination. However, I would definitely support a device (that I control, naturally) that would just extract these thoughts from my brain and put them to paper for me. By the time my hands get the original thought on paper, my brain is twenty steps ahead and I've forgotten what goes in between.

Finally, I really hate this new Blogger Beta piece of garbage. The old Blogger was easier. I want it back. *whines*

Serial Mom

Watching it now... *big happy smile* There's something beautiful about a serial killer mom. Can the story about my life be Terrorist Mom? KABOOM!

I blew up another warehouse last night. I didn't intend to, it just sort of happened. But there my characters were, and my heroine had the nerve to start going off on some stupid backstory reminiscent tirade about how she became a meth addict. Like my readers care. *rolling eyes* So, I stopped her in her tracks by blowing up the warehouse she was walking past. That'll serve her for not advancing my plot. You want to wander down memory lane? I'll blow it up.

Oh, the joy of a creative imagination...

Last night was a trying evening. That Man called me at five to say he was on his way home. Fifteen minutes later, he called back to say he got a call to work late. Twenty four hours later, he came home. I am not kidding. We won't discuss the stress of being locked in the house with the dog and children. The real reason I'll never knock off That Man-Those Kids.

So here I am, watching a movie about a serial killer mom (YES!) and trying to figure out what to do with this book. Do you think I could get away with blowing up another warehouse? Yeah, I know, how does it advance the plot or the romance? It doesn't. I know where it's SUPPOSED to be going, but I can't seem to get the steps in between right. The thing is, this book is not supposed to be a romantic suspense. It's a heartwarming story of redemption. But these stupid drug dealers want to make it a suspense. I don't want to solve some mystery surrounding this drug ring. Is that so hard to understand? The other two stories related to these characters are not suspense.

Maybe I'll watch The Princess Bride instead. There's something romantic about a man who says nothing except, "As you wish."

Things I do/do not recommend

Seeing the Broadway version of The Lion King. Highly recommended-the musical numbers are great.

Not recommended: Doing it while fighting a stomach virus.

Okay, so what I thought was a stomach virus turned migraine was really a stomach virus AND a migraine. Yesterday was not fun.

We went to the Lion King, which is what we got DSD for Christmas-my alumni association had a deal where we went to dinner and the show. Not recommended: eating mystery buffet food when the only other food you've been eating for the past two days consists of the BRAT diet. I did not, however, hurl. This is a good thing. Definitely recommended when dressed to the nines at a formal function.

The show was good. The only thing that threw me (DUH) was that the voices were different. When you've watched a show eight hundred million times with the same voices, listening to your favorite lines delivered by a different voice with a different tone is a bit surreal.
The costumes were cool-I wish I'd taken my friend's recommendation to bring binoculars. Definitely would recommend that now.

Sitting near an exit. This was just a nice lagniappe, however, I am so glad that the tickets we got were close. Definitely recommend that one, especially since there's only a ten minute intermission, long enough to jump up, beat the rest of the hordes travelling to the restroom, and get back in time for curtain. I know, TMI, but seriously, my stomach was not in a happy mood. The military folks definitely should use that as torture method for prisoners. Give them an upset stomach, then make them sit through a Broadway show (where they don't let you back in if you get up-and we paid too much money for those tickets to allow that to happen), and by the end of the first act, they'll be ready to talk.

Washing your face before going to bed. Just thought I'd throw that one in, but I definitely recommend it. Especially after wearing makeup. I know, *gasp* , can you believe I actually did my hair and wore makeup? There is no photographic evidence of this, however. :)

All in all, it was a great night. That Man also took pity on me and drove the babysitter home, even though he had an early morning to start a long day coming up. :)

However, on the NOT recommended list, I'd be remiss if I didn't say, "going to McDonalds for lunch the next day." I'd made plans with my mentor mom a few days ago to meet for lunch today, and she'd suggested McDonalds so the kids weren't bored, and well, my stomach is REALLY not happy with me right now. I'd feel just fine if I wouldn't eat or drink anything. Ugh.

Ick, Ick, and more Ick

I probably shouldn't be blogging tonight, since the computer makes me want to hurl.

First, for Tori, my analysis of Veronica Mars: I AM SO MAD THAT DADDY-O GOT WITH THE MARRIED WOMAN. And yes, I was slightly irritated that the preview had nothing to do with the episode. But glad there wasn't any Logan/Veronica nastiness. Next episode will be interesting: Logan specifically said, "trust me," and it's going to be interesting to see what happens. :)

Then, That Man came home with a tummyache. I decided to avoid getting sick myself and slept on the couch. Except just as I started to fall asleep, the kiddos started crying. The usual growing pains in the middle of the night, and they wanted me to sleep with them. Lovely. Squeezing mommy and two girls in a twin bed is not fun. I don't recommend it. The two year old decided to spend the night playing, jumping on the bed, and disrupting our sleep. I decided to move back to the couch, making note that we really have to get them in separate bedrooms soon. I feel bad for her sister having to deal with that night after night.

Just as I got to sleep, I wake to crying kiddos again. That Man was in there, comforting the baby, who'd put all of their rubber bands on her ankles and wrists, cutting off her circulation. He was just getting up for work and heard her crying. So, I went to my own bed. I got an hour of sleep before the kiddos got me up.

I got up in time to realize that my tummy was upset as well. After I emptied the contents of my stomach, I went back to bed, putting the TV on in my bedroom for them to watch in my bed. I know. Lovely. Spent the morning in bed, waiting for death, and got up to get B to school. As I was driving, the light sensitivity about killed me. Which is when I realized the headache and nausea were not a virus I caught from That Man, but a migraine. Took my pills, put a blanket over the windows, put the baby to bed and went to sleep.

I still feel like death. But I'm trying to keep myself up a litle while so I can actually sleep tonight.

The dog did it...

So we know I'm nuts, right? And I'm totally stressed out by the fact that my phone will NOT stop ringing with idiots calling to make sure I voted. Then I sat down to pay bills with a two year old who wanted to color on them. As I stressed about wondering where money for a bill due next week was coming, God smacked me and said, "remember that thing in the Bible that says give us THIS day our daily bread?" Oh. Yeah.

So I'm working on my to do list from yesterday, I still have four items left to complete. One of which is "Order books". As in, the books I'll be reading and discussing this month. As I placed my order, putting in one from my good friend Loreth Anne White , I remembered that I was supposed to enter her contest of being caught reading one of her books.

Okay, total brain spasm-I looked up and noticed yet another mess the two year old made. I will survive toddlerhood. I will survive toddlerhood.

Anyway, when I went to look for the book I do have, who should I notice curled up with it, but The Dog. Here I've been blaming my kiddos for absconding with my books, when in fact, my dog is a closet romance reader.

Right. Eighteen minutes until Veronica, and if that stupid moronic Rob Thomas broke up Veronica and Logan and those previews that looked like he was cheating are true, I'm going to throw something through the TV and yell really loud. It's a good thing That Man took the kiddos to church tonight.

HA! I did my civic duty

Yep, I voted. But sadly, or should I say, much to my frustration in not being able to give certain people an emphatic no, almost all of the abusive ads I've had to endure over the past two months were for people who don't represent my district.

WHAT!?! I lost countless hours of my life to listen to garbage that had absolutely no effect on my vote? Oh, the tragedy. Now you know why I don't watch much TV. The worst part, though, was that I even got phone calls and flyers in the mail from candidates who weren't even in my district. I have such confidence in these people's abilities to manage my tax dollars effectively, don't you?

I did, however, get much satisfaction in some of my "no" votes. I definitely cackled as I pushed the little "no" button. If I had to improve the voting process, I'd have them make the "no" button really big, really bold, and make a really satisfying "NO" noise. :) All of the amendments and referendums, I'm proud to say, I voted NO on. :)

Now, some folks who know where I live and know the significant ballot issues I faced might be surprised that I'd vote no on everything. Allow me to illuminate. First off, I am a true conservative. None of this wishy-washy political hype that Americans think is conservative. I am a thousand times more conservative than the so-called conservatives in our country. However, I am also a thousand times more liberal than most of the so-called liberals in our country. That Jesus guy? I actually think we need to live like he taught. *gasp* (Yes, I know, my love for homicide kinda sorta goes against that, but hey, we're working on other sin in my life right now, okay?)

But anyway, the main reason I vote no on all amendments and referendums is the deception involved. For example, about half of them read, "Without increasing taxes, we'll increase funding for this project." Oh really? Could you explain how that's going to happen? Because I may not be a math whiz, but here's something I do know. Considering that many important projects are already underfunded, and you aren't getting new money, where exactly is the money coming from? Uh huh. That's what I thought. I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER vote for an increase in funding for ANYTHING unless I know exactly where the money is coming from.

Then, there's the abusive phone calls I got about some of the ballot issues. "You're a bad parent unless you increase school funding." Really? So while you're wasting my time, calling to convince me that I need to be a better parent, who exactly is watching YOUR children? The whole racist/bigot/homophobe accusations if I don't vote for the ballot measures dealing with those issues? Do NOT get me started. What all of this garbage boils down to is this: when you decide to attack me personally and offend me by leaving insulting messages on my answering machine, you can guarantee that I will NOT support your ballot measure.

Mostly, though, I have to say that I tend to vote the way I do because I want as little governmental intervention in my life as possible. I understand some of it to some degree, but some of it borders on ridiculous.

For the next election, I have a plan. I'm going to keep a spreadsheet of all the idiotic ads, phone calls, mailings, personal visits from neighbors I've never met who supposedly care about us, and the people who are the least abusive are the ones who'll be getting my vote. Politicians-take note.

Finally, because I think he's got some great points on voting (which are much less shallow than mine), take a look at what Will Samson has to say. I really do believe that if we as voters took the time to reflect on those thoughts before voting, and if our candidates understood the importance of living what they say they stand for, we could make a difference.

Which leads to a final post that Samson wrote about morality that really touched me. I realize it's too late to do anything for this election. But we do have a big election-one that will determine our next president-coming up very soon. People are already lining up and picking their favorites. Let's not be so hasty in our choices. The person who will be getting my vote isn't going to be the prettiest guy or gal, or the one with the right letter behind their name, or the one with the smoothest talk. I want straight talk. I want honesty. I don't want these campaign ads that distort the facts. I don't want the "anything to win" mentality.

Each election has gotten worse in the attacks, in the garbage, in the things I find morally reprehensible. I am a conservative Christian, but let me be perfectly clear. I would rather vote for a candidate who is openly gay or openly an adulterer or openly a murderer than a candidate who is going to lie to and decieve the American public. And no, this is not a slam on our current president-because while he may be guilty of some of those things, so are a lot of those attacking him. It goes both ways, and I can assure you that the way I will be voting will depend largely on the factors above.

If you haven't voted today, go out and do it. Thousands of men and women died so you have the right, millions more would be willing to die for the opportunity to do so themselves. Besides, Rudy Giuliani, John McCain, Roy Romer, and Nancy Pelosi called today to make sure I'd be at the polls. Might as well make it worth all the trouble they took to record their messages and send them through the automated phone harrassment system. See, both the Democrats and the Republicans are desperate for my vote. *laughs hysterically*

Kiddo stories...

You know how your kids will do something really funny, and you think, I've *so* got to tell this story...

Well, it happened today.

And in between doing the mommy thing, the wife thing, chatting with Jayne about a way fun event we're planning for SH (hehehe you guys are going to love it), racing kiddos to school, stopping by my FIL's, visiting radio shack, the grocery store, prepping for class, getting royally P-O'd at certain events in the news that I'm still not calm enough about to share in a nice sort of way, picking up the sitter, making dinner, teaching a roomful of folks about depreciation (ACK!), planning the rest of the week, watching Shallow Hal (LOVE that movie! There are some amazing scenes with awesome characterization), working on the boards (still working on a few more updates I want to do), and TRYING to Nano,

I completely forgot what it was.

But I'm telling you, it was soooooo good.

P.S. Homeland Security, if you're reading this, and you see a lot of activity on my computer visiting sites about meth labs, gangs, drug addicts, blowing things up, etc., I promise it's for the Nano book. Maybe you could have a chat with some editors about buying it so that way you can buy it, read it, and cross me off your list.

On giving...

Got a phone call today from Becky, one of the girls in our small group. She asked what I thought of taking all the kiddos to Wal-Mart to let them pick out things to put in a box for Operation Christmas Child . I said it sounded great, sign me up.

So it began... eight kids, two adults, and Wal-Mart on a Sunday night. Do not attempt this at home. Now see, I've always said I wanted ten, so I figured this would be great practice. Two of the kiddos were mine, six belonged to another gal (actually, two are hers, the rest are foster kids). You know how I always gripe about my terrorists? They were little angels-the other kids were a little rowdy, but nothing I'd say was terrible or anything we couldn't handle. Not that I'd be eager to take eight kids shopping on a regular basis, but it was still a good time. I asked Becky, who doesn't have any kids yet (although when she does, she's going to be a terrific mom), "did you ever think you'd be wandering Wal-Mart with eight kids?" She gave a very emphatic no. :)

It was fun, watching these kiddos take the time to choose gifts for children for whom this may be all they get for Christmas. They chose things that they would have chosen for themselves. They were frustrated by the limitations on size (shoebox size). The older boys, who are around 9, thought that since we had socks on our list, the kids would probably need underwear. It occurred to me that in some of the poorer countries, they probably wouldn't know what to do with it, let alone care whether or not they wore whitey tighteys or boxers (yes, we had this debate). My daughter thought that if we were buying them socks, we ought to also buy shoes. Which makes sense, but how do you buy shoes for kiddos you've never met? Maybe next year, we'll catch a sale at the end of summer and stock up on sandals-you can fudge the sizes on those a little better. The boys also debated about brushes versus combs-some boys like combs, and some like brushes. For a couple of them, I settled the debate by getting a brush and comb set. The kids also wanted to share their favorite video games and DVDs. It never occurred to them that some children don't have access to those things, let alone to the power supply that they'd need to operate it.

As we drove home, my daughter asked me, "Mom, if these kids need all this stuff that we already have plenty of, don't you think they need food, too? Why didn't we buy them food?" Sure, I gave the simple answer of transport and spoilage issues, but I sure felt guilty about throwing away the corn dog her little sister didn't finish. And I remembered the child we sponsor through World Vision . I said a prayer for her, and hoped that tonight, she'll have enough food in her belly.

When we got home, the girls wanted to read a book, so we compromised and did a Bible lesson. I have these cards that we read, and I pulled one at random. This particular lesson was on frankincense. We learned about frankincense and how it was one of the gifts baby Jesus received. It made me realize that this was a good lesson to tie into our activity-we can't give Jesus a gift, not literally, but as it says in Matthew 25:40, what we do for the least of His people, we do for Him. In celebrating the birth of Christ (and yes, I know it did not literally happen at Christmas), I think the best gift we can give is to those who are in need. Really, it is a gift we should give every day.

I figured it cost us about $25 per box to fill it, and since we let the kids choose what they wanted, we could have probably done it for less. Add in $7 a box to send it, and for less than what you'd spend on a gift for your own child, you can give another child a gift of hope. I think we pay $35 a month to sponsor our World Vision child. I'm not saying this to say, "oh look how great we are, look how much money we spend." Honestly, it's not all that much. So I hope, that as you prepare to purchase gifts for friends and loved ones, also remember to buy a present for Jesus.

I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut

There I am, minding my own business and being a good girl, yet sharing what's on my heart. And then I start working on the good ole Nano book. I begin writing the first scene in my heroine's point of view. It occurred to me that a pregnant meth addict isn't going to go over so well with the CBA. And the whole prayer thing isn't going to go over so well in the mainstream market.

Which led me to remembering that whole thing I JUST posted about seeking him first. Um, yeah, that one. You know, where I basically said that if HE didn't come first than my writing was just another form of Baal worship?

Yeah. So anyway, we have a pregnant meth addict for a heroine. Doncha just wanna go out and buy the book? I should mention, though, because now that I am committed to just writing what I need to write and not caring about the market until it's done and I can decide what to do from there, I am doing research on pregnant meth addicts. I suddenly felt really convicted, because I found a forum where they post and stuff... strangers would come on and post awful things about these poor women. One poster even suggested helping them kick the habit by euthanizing them. It made me sick. If I were trying to kick a habit and looking for support-to be faced with those comments-ugh. Maybe I need to write this book for a reason.

Why I hate my new book

I've mentioned that this is a Hosea book, right?

I need to rewind for a minute and mention a conversation I had with a friend. She was talking about her writing and how she felt that she was a Hosea. She said, "Everyone wants to be an Isaiah, but no one wants to be a Hosea." Um, okay. I sorta got where she was going with it.

And then I start writing this book-the book I didn't want to write. This family fascinates me. It started as I was editing my current book, and one of the secondaries casually mentions that his wife left him and the kids, leaving just a note. As a mother who adores my children (yes, even when they're blowing up my house), to just leave your kids like that, well, it's so unthinkable. I didn't want to write her story, nor did I want to like her. Which is pretty stupid if you're writing a book where the goal is to get your readers to like the character, right?

As I thought about this book and whether or not I could really write it, a thought hit me. This is my Hosea book. Here's this hero, with a wife who has gone and done the unthinkable. Not only does he have to take her back, but he has to chase her and fight for her to come back to their family. So I've been thinking a lot about Hosea. Yesterday, as I realized that I am in the midst of lots and lots of cop talk that will probably have to get cut in the final draft, I decided that I should probably dig in to Hosea. If I'm going to write a Hosea book, I might was well read it, right?

I think my brain is going to explode. I say that a lot, I know, and it's only by the grace of God that it hasn't already. But as I dug in, of course I discovered all the things I already knew, like Homer is fighting for his unfaithful wife, Gomer, and the Lord is fighting for his unfaithful people, the Israelites. Here's what made my brain start to short circuit.

I realized that we are all Gomers.

We are all a part of the unfaithful people, chasing after that which is not of God. We don't seek Him, we seek all of the other things. Worse, we aren't even honest about it. "No, Lord, we're not chasing after Baal," we argue. I mean, until I started digging in my Bible, I didn't even know who or what Baal was. And Asherah poles? I can't recall that I've ever actually seen one. What does an Asherah pole look like?

I can only guess what they looked like in Biblical times, but I do know what they look like in modern times. I think about the things I chase after, and I've come to realize that a lot of them are Baals. My focus isn't on God, but on those things. And while I say, "I want to honor God with it," the goal isn't God, but attaining that thing, or that goal. Honoring God is a part of the equation, but it isn't the THE answer. If it's not the answer, then it's nothing more than putting up an Asherah pole or worshipping Baal.

Which leads me to why I hate this book. On the surface, I am nothing like my adulterous drug addicted heroine. And yet, I am everything like her. It really sucks when all you're trying to do is write a book that people will like enough to buy, and instead you find your own heart being changed.

So instead of spending the month Nano-ing my heart out, it looks like God is going to be doing a little heart cleaning on me. Gotta love how that one works.

All the crap I signed up for

I don't think I need to elaborate on what a crappy day I had.

Nothing that I could describe as catastrophic crap, but just a whole bunch of little things that really served as constant irritants. It's a good thing I'm not really a psycho and I just play at it, because otherwise, I would have gone postal.

The good news is that our mentor mom, Marian, gave me a big hug and gave us girls all some good words of wisdom. In all this crap that we stress over, how much of it really matters in the long run? In eternity, will it matter that our houses were a mess here on earth? Will it matter that all these little details driving me nuts weren't perfect? Will I even remember?

And even though it put things into perspective, I still want to just scream because it's so stinking hard. Even worse, I realized that God has given me everything I asked for. Okay, so I'm not married to a billionaire prince. But those girls, including the one who spent the whole day crying over nothing and driving me insane because I could not put her down or get anything meaningful done? I prayed for them. I didn't pray for the crying or the fit that had little old ladies in Wendy's acting like they were going to call social services. But you know, those things come with having babies.

So as much as I whine and say, "WHY?", I have to put it in perspective. And no, it doesn't make my headache go away or that sick feeling of drowning in all the stress dissipate, but at least I can realize that tomorrow will be another day. Maybe it'll be full of puking kiddos (since she usually gets whiny like this just before getting sick) and maybe it'll be all hugs, kisses, and smiles. Either way, it's the life I signed up for.

Which reminds me of the Bible study I did today-even if I mess it up, God is still going to bring the work He began in me, the purpose for which He put me on this earth, to completion.

And then, when I came home from teaching tonight, That Man was dilligently working in the garage to clear out my parking space so I could park indoors for the first time in a year. Yeah, it made me feel all gooey inside. I got me a good man. Except, of course, when he's stinking up the bedroom with his man butt odors. Then again, when I signed up for being a wife, I signed up for that too.

So the next time you're handed a super crappy day, remember-you asked for it. Sorta. LOL

I'm so excited....

And I just can't hide it...

Okay, so I went to bed, fully intending to sleep because tomorrow is Thursday, and as we all know, it's the worst day of my week. However, a problem kept bugging me. This whole blowing up the meth lab thing... I'd envisioned it as my heroine getting in some good old fashioned vigilante justice and blowing the place sky high.

And then, as I began counting my explosives before drifting off to dreamland, I realized that within CBA confines, I'd never be able to pull it off. Which got me to thinking of other scenarios. I needed her to feel responsible for it. I needed for her to be thinking she was the lowest form of pond scum, because we all know this is a Hosea story, the book is about her finding redemption.

The writer types understand that mental restlessness that will not allow you to sleep until you've got it puzzled out. The rest of you ought to be grateful. Miraculously, it came rather quickly, and rather than hoping I remember it in the morning, I wrote it.

It is so beautiful. We have explosives, we have fire, we have shrapnel, we have dead bodies, we have injured people, it is a beautiful melee of baddies getting their due. I love my job. And, I think I know exactly where to put the exploding pants for my SOTEP girls.

And now, I really must sleep.

FINALLY!!!! I get to blow something up and kill people!!

I am sooooo excited. So here I am, 1885 words into my Nano book and I FINALLY get to unleash my wickedly homicidal mind.

I decided to go with the Hosea story.

Which freaks me out slightly because it is going to be soooo hard to make my heroine sympathetic. I've been stressing about it ever since Mike told me about his wife leaving him. He's a stupid secondary in my current editing nightmare, and he's demanding that I tell HIS story and get him back together with the wife who left him and their kids with no warning, just a note.

Which got me to thinking-why would a woman with a great husband and great kids just up and leave? As I started writing today, I found it. And I found some beautiful, brilliantly fun things that I get to do.

One: She's living in a house that doubles as a meth lab. It's gonna get blown up. :)
Two: The icky, nasty drug lord and his cronies living there-they're gonna get blown up too. :)
Three: My heroine is going to have a baby! Yippee!!

I swear, I have babies on the mind because this is my third book in a row with a pregnant heroine. Ahahahahahaha

I am so excited. *doing mega happy dance* Babies, Murder, and Blowing Stuff up... life does not get any better than this.