A Review of The Perfect Day by Gunnar Angel Lawrence

The Perfect Day by Gunnar Angel Lawrence was a thrill-packed ride! The characters were believable and the plot frighteningly plausible. 

From the first terrorist attack to the last, I was hooked.   I found myself literally holding my breath in fear!  To read a novel that's unrealistic is one thing, but to read one so filled with scenarios that have occurred or you could imagine occurring is terrifying. 

Lawrence is a talented storyteller and I cannot wait to read another creation. My only criticism? I had a difficult time putting it down, so my work load suffered.  

 

Congratulations on a job well-done!

Catching Flies

My momma always told us, "You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Now, I don't know about you, but I don't care for flies.  And why in the name of goodness would I want to catch them?!  I know what it means: you can get farther/obtain more by being nice than not.  I'm not saying Momma is wrong, but I'm not so sure she's right either.

I've been nice--that bend-over-backwards, sweet-Southern-belle, sugary-sweet, gagging nice.  (Don't laugh!  I really have!)  And frankly, all it got me was being a doormat.  I've gone the other direction--in-your-face, shut-the-hell-up, kiss-my-grits bitch. (You can disagree here...I'm waiting...still waiting...oh, never mind!) All that got me was trouble. 

Here's where we hit the happy medium, walking that line somewhere between sweet little angel and total bitch.  I like to think I do okay at it, but it's a struggle.  It goes against my nature to be argumentative and blunt.  STOP LAUGHING!  I really am uncomfortable in that role.  I SAID STOP!  But there have been times, many times that I've been forced to be that woman.  And then, I feel that Southern belle guilt.  It's like no other.  I promise you, if you've never experienced it, it's worse than the guilt that makes you want to buy your kid a pony because you made him cry.

I'm not sure if we are born with that guilt or if it just seeps into our pores after a while.  Nature or nurture?  Anyway, I digress.  I just know it's there.  Some keep it buried WAY down deep.  Some let it out more than we like.  And then there are the ones like me, who become sarcastic.  REALLY sarcastic.  (I know, I've shocked you again!...Have you recovered?...Are you okay?)  In fact, you could say the struggle between "catching flies" and full-on bitch mode, leads to sarcasm.  (Don't you like how I justified that?) 

The moral of the story?  Don't try to catch flies with honey unless you want to join the Sarcastic Society.  Just kidding, I don't believe there's a society named that yet... But when there is, I'll be president!

Happy reading!  Keep smiling!

Big Dreams

"Mom, I'm going to build the biggest, tallest building in the world one day," says my youngest son.

"If you want to do it, you can and you will," I reply.

I have no doubt he will do anything he sets out to do.  My youngest child is very creative and artsy.  He loves to build, design and draw.  He's a big dreamer.  That's a connection I have with him.  He is always thinking of what he can do next.  And truth is, this child can follow instructions like nothing I've ever seen before.  I gave him a rubber band bracelet kit--he asked for it--and said, "I have no clue what to do with these things."  Within minutes, he was turning out one bracelet after another.  (Tha t ability to follow directions, he didn't get from me.)

My oldest son can't follow instructions because he's always in overdrive.  He's very scattered and disorganized.  But he has debating skills like you wouldn't believe. He's only 9 and he can debate any topic he reads about and make you believe he's right.  He catches me off-guard quite often with his debating skills.  There is no limit to what he can do.

My middle son is more musically inclined than the other two and loves to sing, dance and wants to play the guitar.  I had to do some digging to get this out of him.  He's relatively shy about performing in front of large groups, but loves being videoed singing and dancing.  Maybe you'll see him on one of those talent shows on television one day. 

For Christmas last year, Santa--who must have been drunk--brought a guitar, a drum set, a CD player, and about a bazillion Legos and Kinex blocks.  Whatever we can do to encourage those big dreams, we'll do.  And heaven help anyone who tries to discourage them!

Dream big!  Thanks for reading!

Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity

Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity (ADHD) is not a choice.  Children and adults with ADHD do not choose to be loud, inattentive, disruptive or impulsive.  ADHD is a chemical imbalance.  You cannot punish the ADHD out of a child.  You cannot reward the ADHD out of a child.  You can help change some of the behaviors, but the struggle will always remain. 

Can a person with ADHD use that to his/her advantage?  Of course!  I have friends who are diagnosed with ADHD and are some of the most productive people I know.  Is it difficult for them?  It can be.  Relationships can be a little challenging, because people with ADHD are usually involved in a number of things simultaneously.  And those who manage it, manage it well.  But it can drive the rest of us a little crazy. 

Is every person with ADHD just alike?  Nope, no way, not at all.  I have two children with ADHD and they are totally different.  One is unorganized and unfocused, the other is organized but has difficulty regulating his emotions.  No one treatment works for every person.  And it's more difficult to diagnose than people think.

The excessive energy means they can get more done.  The wild tales are active imaginations.  The constant chatter means they have a lot of information to learn and to share.  They are not brats, undisciplined or disrespectful.  They are unique.  They are a gift. 

When You Give Grace a Bead Reamer and Glue

When you give Grace a bead reamer, she'll need a bandage.
She'll trip on her way to get the bandage and knock over the permanent bond glue.
When she knocks over the glue, she'll bend down to pick it up and hit her head.
When she hits her head, she'll fall.
When she falls, she'll land in the glue.
When she lands in the glue, she'll stick to the floor.
When she sticks to the floor, she'll get angry and slam her hand down on her leg.
When she hits her leg, she'll forget she's holding the bead reamer until she sees the blood.
When she sees the blood, she'll remember she needs a bandage.

Lasers and Swordfights and Guns, Oh My!

Boys.  That's what this is about.  Little muddy, sticky, rock-collecting, snake-loving, sword-carrying, gunfight-imagining boys.  I am blessed to have three of them.  They're seldom quiet, seldom still, and one or more is always up to some sort of mischief. And just to let you know, I wouldn't trade them for the world. 

I'm amazed at the number of people who think that just because they role play fighting, that boys are "naturally violent".  Or preoccupied with guns and violence.  I haven't found that to be the case.  My boys also love to play boardgames, play cards, to crochet, to build, to read, to cook and a plethora of other things.  And two of my three LOVE babies.  And they're gentle and kind, caring and loving.  In fact, this year two of mine won awards at school for "Kindness and Compassion".

Do they fight?  Of course, and I hate to burst your bubble, but my sister and I fought, too. And we played with cap guns and cracked each other over the head with batons.  Do my boys fight other children?  Yes, to defend themselves.  We don't encourage physical violence, but we do encourage standing up for yourself.  Is that wrong?  I don't think so. 

My boys don't like to hear or see things that portray real violence.  The violence and death they see and hear about on television, radio or in the newspapers scares them.  They feel compassion towards people who are hurt or have lost a family member.  They don't understand why anyone would hurt another person for little or no reason. 

And yes, there is a time and place for that kind of play.  And several places are off-limits for that--school and church, to name a couple.  Otherwise, I smile and wish for earplugs when I hear the "pew, pew, pew" of imaginary laser fights.  Hey, I never said it doesn't get on my nerves, but so does the high-pitched squeal of a little girl playing with friends. 

Tween Years Come Early

My oldest child is 9. His age group is referred to as a "tween" in our church. Tweens are that mysterious group that are not children, but not quite teenagers. That "between" status that's so difficult for them (and us) to manage. They're too old for the mall play area and too young for the teen arcades. I personally think 9 is still a child, but I wouldn't let my son hear me say it.

The tween years, like everything else, seem to be surfacing earlier and earlier. My boys have had "girlfriends" since preschool. My oldest had the "birds and bees" talk at 5. One of our twins got in trouble for explaining to a little girl at school that "girls have boobs and boys don't". (And before you yell at me for teaching him a slang word, he knows the correct word.  Hell, I'm just glad the word 'penis' didn't end up in the conversation. I celebrate the little victories.)  Suffice it to say, this can be a little overwhelming to us parental types. I think my husband and I have managed okay so far. He says, "Ask your mom." And I give them answers. (Sorry, dear.)

I'm reading a couple of books right now. One is "How to Hug a Porcupine". It's aimed at those parents of tweens/preteens. And I'm finding much of it applies. 

He wants that independence, but still hangs on to the childish toys and rituals of his life. He wants to be left alone one minute and to sit in my lap the next. As confusing as it is for me, it's much more confusing for him. I'm not so old that I can't remember those days! (Now, what was I talking about?...)

He's got hormones surfacing, fears and questions about everything, and wants us near enough to help out, but not so near that we smother him. What a fine line we walk! One minute I'm the best, coolest Mom ever. The next, an embarrassment to the human race. (Note to self: call and apologize to Mom.)

My husband and I joke that, if people knew what they were getting into when they have children, and I mean what they're REALLY getting into, the human race would have ceased to exist long ago.  (Haters, don't send me nasty-grams, I love my children.  But let's be honest, they're NOT little bundles of sweetness and light ALL the time.)

I suppose we'll make it through this stage in one piece with a portion of sanity left. But I'm pretty sure it's gonna be one heck of a ride!

Thanks for reading!