Monthly Archives: December 2016

Sitting in a doctor’s office this morning, I was grateful. Deposited for a check-up, I wasn’t waiting for results that may hurdle me into panic or despair. Sure, the hideous mauve gown was less-than-fashionable and freezing, but, I’d soon be on my way back to my life bubble: planning Thing 1’s birthday, fixing a reservation date that I’ve already screwed up twice, and lining up a snack bar schedule.

 

I get so busy doing my own things during this season, that I often forget compassion.

compassion

(thanks pandawhale.com)

I miss telling someone “Merry Christmas” because I’m checking emails on my phone. Presents are bought with a checklist, instead of love and thoughtfulness (hey, at least I admit it). I put off visiting family to finish chores.

Sometimes, I forget to see the blessings: my kids’ joy when we take five minutes to look at Christmas lights. Taking the baby steps towards indie, but watching my submissions to the traditional side. Or finding an amazing graphics artist to design my logo and cover–who has an even better sense of humor. Here’s a tiny glimpse of said logo:

oc

(I did say tiny…)

If you are busy, write your to-do lists. But take time to send an email to an old friend. Mail a present and tell a bell ringer or someone holding the door, “Thank you!”

Thanks for stopping by my blog today. I appreciate each of you. Now, I need to go hunt down a basketball schedule for my kid…

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Speling Rools

When I was in fourth grade, I entered into a spelling bee at the mall where both of my parents worked, while Dad was studying to become a pastor. We kids spent lots of time on both stories, down passages where Dad walked security checks and tottering on ice skates at the indoor rink. But this contest was my big day, because I was a great speller.

 

It was down to three of us. I can’t even tell you if the other two were a girl and a boy or a monkey and a horse, but I was first up in the round. My sisters and brother were there, standing to the right, with my parents. The judge gave me the word: chocolate.

 

And I biffed it. “C-O-C-O-L-A-T-E. Chocolate.”

 

Immediately, my sister Kate’s face told me it was wrong. She tried to cheer me up by giving me a way to remember how to spell it: “I always remember it as Cho Co Late.” I was so mad that she was telling me afterwards, when I didn’t need the advice. I’d already lost.

 

That silly spelling bee and loss thrust my brain into becoming a top-notch speller. I scoffed as a high schooler when I found a package of “encildadas” in the freezer that Mom had made. I even pointed it out to her, making sure to slowly say each syllable of “enchilada” to her.

 

When Thing 2 was a wee thing, she had a funny way of saying certain things. “I want to hold you,” meant that she wanted to be picked up. Until she was eight, she asked for han-gur-burs. She had no interest in reading, while Thing 1 took to books like a fish to water. Thing 2 didn’t want to read, didn’t want to write and just wanted to have friends. Well, I didn’t want to be the overbearing Mom, so we had her in reading programs. Surely, it would be fixed.

 

It wasn’t.

 

Thing 2 has dyslexia (just like my mom). I’m still learning how to teach her methods, along with her teachers, on how to learn to spell and read. She makes notes like this:

 

explain

BUT…God has given Thing 2 a gift. I may not understand why she cannot read and spell well, but I know that her heart is enormous:

 

dino

My lesson for the day? Don’t judge a person by their spelling or grammar rules. God has given them a different gift. Even Thomas Edison’s teacher told his mother that he was defective…and he was just dyslexic.


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