MM: A Date with Destiny

The prompt: It's not like it hasn't been broken before.

What came out of my head:

"What? What hasn't?"

"What's that," Wesley asked, pretending not to understand. His lab partner, Destiny, leaned on the table, trying to look into Wesley's eyes, but he wouldn't make eye contact. She looked at him until he shifted his eyes in her direction. He looked at her long braids first as they fell over the unlit Bunsen burner. If it had been on, she would have done a great Michael Jackson impression at that moment. His eyes ran up her braids - they were so tiny, he just wanted to touch one - until they stopped at her gaze, her eyebrows narrowed in impatience.

"I said I had to miss the study group with you tomorrow? And you said what sounded like, 'sure. Go 'head. It's not like it hasn't been broken before?' What were you referring to? My word?"

"What? No! No way," Wesley replied quickly, his hands gesturing "no" in agreement. He snorted a nervous little laugh while Destiny waited again for his explanation. How was he going to get around telling her that's he's been having a running relationship with her in his head and what he was actually saying was that it wasn't like his heart hadn't been broken before?

"Because I keep my word, Wes."

He liked how she called him Wes. No one else did. He had been a nerd as long as he could remember and it was difficult to make any real bonds with any of his peers, let alone pretty ones like Destiny. And when you add in the whole racial difference...well, she was not in his world, clearly. She was on Earth. No! Venus. She was a Venusian goddess and he was a space cadet. She had graced him with a nickname that was cooler than he was and she was the only one to call him that so he felt really special when she came around and called his name.

"I...I know you do, Destiny. I know you keep your word. I was just, just thinking about something, that's all."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's not important," Wesley turned to face her to change the subject. Destiny didn't back up and Wesley noticed that. This was why he loved her. "Listen, you go to your audition. It's important. We'll study later. No big deal." Destiny put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. She kept it there while she smiled at him. "You're the best, Wes." Giggling at her own rhyme, she let his hand go and leaned on the table, propping her head in her hand. She continued looking at Wesley and smiling.

"You know, you have been so great with all this, Wes. I really hate that we have to have a science credit in a school known for churning out great actors. I mean, you're supposed to be able to pick your own path in college, right? Why should I pay to study stuff I'm not going to use? I mean, I'm going to be a great actress," Destiny shook her braids back as she spoke, then quickly lowered her voice and her head in seriousness. "I'd give anything to be that, Wes." Wesley thought her eyes flashed a golden-like color, but he had never dared look so deeply into her eyes before so he couldn't be sure they weren't her usual color. Destiny shook her head again, as if to shake off bad vibes, and stood up to grab her books. "I'm glad you're helping me," she said in her regular voice again.

"Me too," Wesley whispered in reply. Destiny stood in place for a moment, a look of consideration on her face. "Listen, it's just an audition but it can take a long time, you know? I shouldn't do it," she said as if arguing with herself. "I should concentrate and meditate and...." She bit down on her lower lip for a moment. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll sit all the way in the back and you can whisper science nothings in my ear."

Wesley turned red immediately and worried Destiny would notice. But she didn't act like she did. Then again, she was an actress so who knew for sure but her. "Umm," he said in thought.

"Yeah," she said more enthusiastically this time as if agreeing with herself and Wesley was not in the conversation. "It'll be cool to have you there, actually. You can be in my world for a while. I'm ALWAYS in yours, after all. I swear we live in this lab." She looked around in mock disgust, rolling her eyes but smiling again when she looked at Wesley. "Let's do this, Brutus."

Wesley smiled and ran his fingers through his short locks in embarrassment. "I..I guess so," he replied. Looking at Destiny who called him Wes and just invited him to be in her world, Wesley grew a little braver. "What's the play? What role will you go after?"

"It's an August Wilson play," Destiny replied enthusiastically. "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. Know it?" Destiny didn't wait for Wesley to respond. "I'm going to try for the role of Dussie Mae." Destiny put her hand on her hips, turned her head slightly and tilted it down so she could look up at Wesley with sexy eyes. "It's a very sense-u-al role," she said slowly.

Wesley's eyes grew big. He swallowed his excitement and said nothing, again hoping his body didn't betray his mind. "Sounds, um, interesting." Turning back to the table, Wesley began to close his own books. "I can go, sure. I'd love to help [myself to] you," he said and thought at the same time.

"That. Would be. Fantastic, dear Wes," Destiny replied happily. "How about I meet you at the theater tomorrow night at 8:30?"

"8:30? Wow, kinda late, huh?"

"Well, there are a lot of people trying out," Destiny answered, adjusting her bag and looking around the table again to be sure she had everything. "They gave us special times to come so we didn't have to wait around too long."

"Oh, oh ok. No problem. 8:30. At the theater."

"Back door," she said.

"Back?"

"Yeah. We, umm, have to hang out back there before the audition so they can keep track of us." Destiny looked around as if someone had come into the room. "But afterward, we can sit in the back of the theater and watch everyone else."

Wesley welcomed the opportunity to just watch her if he could. "It's a...date," he said bravely.

"Yeah," Destiny smiled and gave him a wink. "A date with Destiny."

Classes the next day were no where near as intriguing as they usually were for Wesley. All those theorems in his math class and wonderful discussions about genetic engineering in his ethics class went over his head as he thought about seeing Destiny in her world. He'd have to remember to actually bring the books they needed to study for the next test.

After classes were done for the day, Wesley went back to his dorm to wait and pace and think about what to wear. "I can't do anything out of the ordinary. She'll suspect. But she did call it a date," he argued with himself. "I can put on a sweater maybe. It's kinda chilly out there, after all."

By eight o'clock, Wesley's hands were starting to sweat as he kept opening and closing them, looking out the window. The theater was on his side of campus but located off campus so he'd have to walk up a street and take a side road to get there. It was a pretty old theater. He saw it once during a campus tour years ago. He was actually amazed they kept it around but he had heard the theater people refused to let anyone touch it. They apparently had all kinds of superstitions and rituals, like not whistling back stage and saying break a leg, he had heard. Theater people could be a species unto themselves, except for Destiny. She stood alone.

Wesley willed the clock to read 8:15 so he could leave. It wouldn't take him long. He didn't want to seem too eager and get there too early nor be late. But at 8:15 on the nose, he left. Books forgotten.

The street was quieter and darker than he remembered. But maybe he had never walked it before in the dark. The school was in a rural town so there were no street lights unless the street residents pitched in and paid for them, which they refused to do. Kept the college kids out, they said. But the theater was in the neighborhood so sometimes they had to deal with a little raucous behavior.

Wesley turned down the rocky road that ended at the theater and was surprised to not see much activity. He did see a person or two but it was hard to tell. They were in dark clothing. Maybe costumes? And they seemed to scurry away as if they saw him but didn't want him to see them.

The theater was a dark, round structure that looked as if it were sleeping. Wesley felt the urge to tiptoe around it, following a white, arrow-shaped sign that read BACKSTAGE. He looked behind him as he crept along on the crunchy rocks and drew a breath when he thought he saw a figure looking around the corner at him but then it darted away.

Wesley couldn't recall where people parked. "The parking lot must be on the other side," he thought. "That's got to be where the cars are." At the back door, Wesley saw there was a light on overhead. The heavy looking metal door looked tightly shut. As he walked up to look for a doorbell or something, the door quietly popped open. A hand reached out and wrapped around it. It was a female hand and Wesley stepped back in slight alarm until he saw Destiny slowly put her head out the door. She had that serious look on her face that instantly changed to the happy look she always gave Wesley. Suddenly Destiny reminded Wesley of one of those clowns who would look sad, wave his hand up over his face to reveal a bright smile, and then wave his hand back down again to reveal his sad face. He wasn't really sure if he was seeing the real her or not. Wesley never liked clowns.

Destiny stuck out her manicured hand. "Hey Wes," she said softly, which seemed contrary to the wide smile on her face. "Come on in, boyfriend. We've just gotta be a little quiet," she said, as if to answer his silent question.

Wesley stepped inside on the wooden floor, the door closing so quietly behind him that he had to turn around to be certain Destiny had closed it and was there. He looked around at all the wooden beams and ropes hanging from the ceiling. Dark corners lurked everywhere. Velvet ropes on their golden stands were gathered against a wall and stairs on either side of him looked to lead to more beams, wider ones above him. Destiny had not let go of his hand and had begun to walk toward a doorway. As they entered, Wesley could see it was a large dressing room to one side of the doorway and a drawn curtain on the other side.

"Auditions going ok," he asked. "Sounds so quiet out there."

"Umm hmm," Destiny said, leading him toward the curtain but not looking back.

"It's like it's sound proof or something," Wesley said nervously. Destiny's hand was cool but he was still happy to be holding it. He looked around for the other actors but saw no one.

"Are you the last audition of the night," he asked.

"Yes. This is it," Destiny replied.

At the curtain, Destiny stopped and turned to face Wesley. She put her hands on his shoulders as if she were ready to waltz. "Acting is my life, Wesley, you know?"

"I know," Wesley replied.

"I love it. I love the theater and I want the theater to love me."

"It will," Wesley said, mesmerized by Destiny's golden eyes. He did feel as if they were dancing now. She smiled at him. The dance was slow and Wesley didn't want it to end.

"You have always been so sweet to me, Wesley. I could tell, you know," she said, looking down shyly but never taking her hands away. "I could tell you liked me and I liked you too, you know? You were cool. Taught me so much about those stupid chemicals." Destiny quietly laughed to no one. Wesley felt himself stepping backward into the curtain. Destiny was leading the dance now.

"But those chemicals won't make me rich and famous."

"I could," Wesley said. The fear was gone and he felt free to say all he ever wanted to. "I'll be rich one day, Destiny. You could marry me and be in all the plays you want. I'd finance them."

"Ohh I knew you were special, Wes. I knew it." Destiny stopped, sliding her hands down his arms, she gently grabbed Wesley's wrists. "I knew you would be the one to help me. And I... I assumed..."

"What?"

"Well," Destiny began to walk toward him again pushing him back as she stepped forward. He felt the curtain around him. "You had such a sweet, innocent way about you. I assumed you were a virgin, no?"

Wesley cleared his throat, looking down at their feet. They were still moving. Why didn't he feel it? "Well," he answered slowly. "Only because I was looking for the right one, you know?"

"I do know, Wes. I know it well. It's hard to find the right one. But it has to be the right one. The innocent one," she said. Wesley could feel warm lights above him as Destiny stepped closer to him, embracing him, her face coming close to his but not touching him. "The one willing to sacrifice his all. For me."

"For you," Wesley repeated, allowing his hands to touch her waist but not daring to bring his face any closer to hers than she did to his.

"That's why it hurts me,"

"Hurts? It doesn't have to..."

"It hurts me that I don't get to keep you. But I need the theater to love me."

"Destiny," Wesley whispered.

"I have to be willing to make a sacrifice for it and my sacrifice has to work both ways. It is the ultimate love. That you'll lay down your life for a friend."

"Anything for you, Destiny," Wesley said, but even though his mouth spoke for itself, his head was racing with wild, confusing thoughts.

"Anything?" Destiny stepped in closer, her eyes closing with Wesley's as she brushed his lips with hers. They were still dancing. Moving. But not in circles. She was moving forward. He was moving back. Wesley opened his eyes to take Destiny in once again. She grabbed his hands and stepped back slowly, as far as she could go. Wesley saw the hooded figures step from behind the curtains and form a semi circle around the couple. He heard the electronic sound of a door opening and looked around but saw nothing.

The figures slowly walked forward as Wesley quickly looked at each of them. Holding hands, he and Destiny slowly walked - her forward, him backward.

"Destiny?"

"Thank you, Wes. Thank you for your sacrifice. The theater will love me most of all for sure now." As she smiled, she let go of Wesley's hands. Surprised, he stepped back to regain his footing but found nothing as he felt the sudden heat and was no more.

The theater closed the hidden door in the wooden floor. The applause of the other figures in the audience drowned out the screams of the sacrifice in the fire pit, out of their view. They rose for Destiny, their newest star, as the stage curtains closed upon her, encircling her in their ghostly embrace.

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What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

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MM: The Bitter Taste of Life

The prompt: "When the shoebox rattled and moved, I decided I should open it..."

What came out of my head:
"When the shoebox rattled and moved, I decided I should open it," Tracy read. Matthew snuggled up to Tracy as she paused. She was waiting for him to plead for her to keep going. When he didn't, she looked down to see if he was asleep. His eyes were open but the light in them was dim.

"Matt? Are you ok? Tired?"

"I'm ok. I like the story."

"Really?"

"Umm hmm."

Tracy sighed but kept reading. "I pushed up the lid with my thumb to see if anything tried to get out. The magician had warned me not to open the box while he was away. But I had left the doughnut - my favorite doughnut - right next to the box when I went to answer the phone and now it was gone. That chocolate-covered-lemon-filled goodness was gone. And I wanted it back."

Tracy looked down at Matthew again. He loved doughnuts but no reaction. Tracy leaned to the side a little to get a better view. Matthew's head moved with her and continued to rest on her arm. Tracy propped the book open on her lap, sunk her fingers into his soft, curly hair and squeezed like she was shopping for melons.

"Hmm, not overly ripe, not too soft. Just right."

"I'm not fruit, mom," Matthew said without looking up. He was too tired now to even protest her not finishing the story. His eyelids would softly close then snap open like a windowshade opened by an invisible hand.

"Are you tired sweetie?"?

"A little," Matthew said, his eyes closed once again. "Let's finish it tomorrow."

Tracy stroked his head again and leaned over to take his temperature with her kiss. "You need to rest. Tomorrow you'll go to the hospital, you'll see how the count looks, huh? You'll get the magic elixir, you know? You'll feel a little better. A lot better. I promise."

Matthew said nothing. He had been living with his cancer for five of his 10 years. He had reached a place where his chemotherapy was more for his mother's benefit than his own. He was tired more than she cared to recognize. She refused to see it because she had her hope. She spent time on the chemo circuit, the group of parents she saw every time she took Matthew for his treatments. They supported each other. Shared research and news of miracle cures. That was where she had heard of the 3-month program at the private German hospital. They could devote the precious time needed to look for the root of his mysterious cancer so that a proper treatment could be set in place or, dared she hope, a cure could be found. She just needed the funds. It was more than her husband's salary as a police officer could bear. She was the one with the faith. She had to be the one to find the way.

She slid her arm from under Matthew's head and laid him on his pillow. She kissed his forehead again. "Am I warm," Matthew asked.

"That wasn't for me, baby. That was for you."

Covering him up, she laid his book on the nightstand and clutched herself as she looked around his neat room. He didn't even have the energy to be messy anymore. What she wouldn't give to be stepping over toys on the floor again like she did when he was little.

Flipping the switch on his wall, she looked over at him again. With the onset of his illness, she had never gotten out of the habit of watching him breathe. She closed his door softly then stepped around the creaky floorboard to walk the short distance to the next bedroom.

She checked on the twins, Lisa and Evan, as they slept in their cribs. Sniffing the air, she smelled their new baby essence. Stepping to their beds she looked down at each of them, watching their creaseless lips close briefly then part as they silently huffed in their sleep.

She tiptoed from their room and opened the adjacent door. Her husband, Aaron, was as sound asleep as the rest and she didn't want to disturb him. He had a busy day the next day and he needed his rest.

Creeping down the steps, she walked carefully to the kitchen to start her tea. She typically would drink a cup while prowling the web; visiting her favorite cancer chat rooms and reading up on the latest news on Cell Phone, the science e-magazine that had the latest controversial research on all sorts of diseases. Sometimes the articles focused on the metaphysical and the spiritual, revealing some surreal methods people took to cure themselves or their loved ones. Sometimes it talked of the ones who opted to take control of how they would live and when they would die.

As her water got hot in the kitchen, she powered up her laptop in the living room, then went back to prepare the cup of tea. She mixed and stirred the liquid in her favorite Moms Rule mug. Then she got a saucer from one cabinet as she looked in the next one for the can of almonds she had placed on the top shelf.

She took the tea and nuts back to her favorite chair, placing the items on the table beside her. The laptop sat on the ottoman, singing its brief song of introduction. She sipped the large cup of tea as she waited, frowning a bit at the heat and slightly bitter taste. When the welcoming screen had come and gone, she called up her favorite sites and made her rounds. There was no need to study the latest research tonight. She would check in on all her friends instead. She took another sip of the tea as she called up her blog and began to write the posts she had been conjuring in her head all day. She shook her head, trying to fight the fatigue, and continued to write until she had emptied herself on the screen.

Minimizing the blog, she called up her email to check in with her brother who worked for the Bank of London and was sometimes online at this hour. Except she kept herself invisible to him and opted to email him instead. He was online for clients but he wouldn't be checking his email until he was on the tube going home.

Tracy laid her head back and closed her eyes for a moment, daydreaming of a healthy and happy Matthew. Being 9 1/2 years older than the babies, she imagined him relishing his big brother role, finally able to keep up with the life he should have.

Tracy finished off the tea and ate a couple of the almonds. She bit one last one in half and put the other half of it on the plate. Setting the laptop back on the ottoman in front of her, she propped up her feet, pulled the blanket off the arm of the chair that she kept there and covered herself. She laid her head back and imagined the peace that she longed for Matthew to have, the peace he would have, the peace she now gave him just as she had given the rest of what she had.

The insurance money would surely be enough to fund his trip to Germany, she thought. They would be able to pay off the house, have at least some money for all the kids to go to college, but more importantly, there would be money for Matthew's radical treatment. She had heard through the circuit of the privileged few children who had had miraculous turnarounds at the clinic. She knew in her heart, Matthew's hope was there.

As she rested, her eyes flew open as she remembered a link she wanted to include in her post. The one that referred to her post from 6 months ago when she first started eating almonds for their health benefit. She needed to make sure she fixed that, and fought back the blurriness in her eyes as she made her final change.

"There," she said. "It is done." The smell of almonds was now a fixture in her home. Her blog said so. She loved them. Her husband had witnessed that. When the mortician smelled the almond smell on her, they would say, "She loved almonds, that's all." No one would suspect a thing as her grieving family claimed the money they deserved so they could finally live the life she had dreamed for them all along.

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What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

MM: Hour Farther

Prompt: If I weren't allergic to sweating, I'd...

What came out of my head:

"If I weren't allergic to sweating, I'd be out here every day, strutting my stuff, walking this off, getting back to where I belong." Hannah puffed as she spoke.

"And where's that," asked Mimi, Hannah's best friend.

Hannah focused on her pace and tried not to answer Mimi too quickly. Maybe she'll just forget she asked. But Hannah knew her friend, Naomi, whom she liked to call Mimi, too well and Mimi knew Hannah just as well. She kept in quick step with Hannah and waited for Hannah to reply.

"Whew," Hannah finally said. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this speed walking with you. And in this cold February air!"

"It's not exactly all that speedy. We're not even moving our arms like we should. It's really just a brisk walk. Not too bad, huh? And we'll warm up too!"

Hannah took a breath as she continued the real conversation. "With David."

Mimi understood. "You've been thinking about this," Mimi said, half asking, half assuming. Hannah had married Steve after only a year together. It was Hannah meeting Steve, dating Steve, moving in with Steve and saying yes to a proposal all in one year's time. Mimi was certainly the type to tell her to slow down but at the same time, they were both well into their 30's, in solid careers, relatively stable financially, what could Mimi really say? It would have been cool - except for David.

"Hannah, are things not ok with Steve?"

"Steve is fine. He's OK. He works hard, you know? He saves his money. He wants to build our home. Talks about kids. But..."

"Yes?"

"I'm not...cherished."

"Cherished," Mimi repeated.

"You know, he's not the most romantic guy in the world. He doesn't open my door for me. He doesn't kiss me in the morning."

"Before or after you brush your teeth," Mimi joked. Hannah looked over and rolled her eyes as she blew out another breath of air.

"And David was all that," Mimi said, sarcastically.

"He was," said Hannah.

"And you don't think you're romanticizing him in the least?"

"What? No! He was sweet. He was good to me. If he and I had worked out..." Hannah stopped in her tracks, wiping the sweat off her forehead before letting out another huge sigh and looking Mimi in the eye. "Steven might not have made it."

Mimi looked down the street as she considered her words. "David left, Hannah. Remember? He wasn't ready for a relationship or whatever his problem was and he was too wishy washy. I mean how many times do you need to have him stepping in and out of your life like some stray cat?"

"I know," Hannah said, slightly defensive. "But that was 5 years ago. We were in our 20s when all that went down."

"You've been talking to him," Naomi asked, suddenly realizing this can't be out of the blue.

"He regrets letting me go." Hannah quickly turned her gaze and started to walk again. "He's got a great job in Las Vegas right now. Working with the mayor. He likes it but he sees the messy lives of the people around him, on that strip, you know? And it's made him think about his priorities."

Mimi was silent.

"Steven doesn't even care about my dreams, Mimi!"

"He cares. He's just not as emotional about this stuff."

"Yeah well, David always cared," Hannah said. "That's why I'm meeting him."

What?" It was Mimi's turn to stop suddenly. "Meeting him where? When?"

Hannah looked at Mimi with excitement shining in her eyes. "March 8th," she replied. "Steven's going on a business trip and he's leaving on Friday, the 6th. David is going to be in town really late on that Saturday night. He wants me to meet him at 2 a.m. at the diner we used to go to for Sunday morning breakfast."

"2 in the morning? Is he nuts? Are you? I can't let you go out by yourself like that, girl!"

"I can handle myself, Mimi. I'm a big girl."

"Hannah..."

"No, Naomi." Hannah began to walk again. She had made up her mind.

March came in like a lion, bringing snow and ice to once again clog up the roads. The groundhog hadn't seen his shadow after all and it seemed like Spring would never come. Mimi woke up the very late on the 7th. She had hung out late with Hannah the previous night. It was a Saturday so she wasn't going to spring out of bed like she did every day for work. No, she would lay there and think a bit about her day. She flipped on the TV. Seeing the names of shows pass her by on the guide, a commercial showing a ticking clock caught her attention. "Don't forget to Spring ahead at 2 a.m." a chipper voice reminded her.

"Wait a minute. It's daylight savings time? Already?" Mimi suddenly felt as if she had the answer but didn't know the question. "Hannah. She's meeting David. At 2. Why 2?" She flipped over to grab her cell phone. She called Hannah but the voice mail picked up after only 1 ring. "Shoot!" She quickly re-pressed the send key, looking to switch over to Hannah's home number. Still no reply. She looked at the clock. "It's 12. Wow, 12! Even she has got to be up by now. I wonder if David came in early." Mimi's mouth twisted into a sneer at the thought of him. "David."

Mimi called around to all of Hannah's usual haunts to no avail. Not knowing what to do, she drove by Hannah's house. No car was in the driveway. "Dang it." Mimi remembered some errands she needed to do in some of the same areas Hannah frequented like the mall and the local grocery store. The hours passed but still no call, no sign of Hannah.

Mimi tried to forget by returning home, plopping back on her bed, and looking for a movie to take her mind of her friend and her soon-to-be past tense marriage. "If it's what she wants, I guess." Exhausted, Mimi laid back and soon drifted off to the lullaby of her thoughts.

When she woke again it was already near midnight. "Oh man!" Mimi sat up momentarily confused. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room and the brightness of the TV that continued to play. She saw the clock. "She's got to be home by now," she said to herself as she felt around her bed for her phone. No voice mails, no missed calls, no texts. Mimi speed dialed Hannah. Voice mail answered yet again.

"Come on, woman. Don't make me go out after you." It was already going on 12:30. Too early to catch Hannah at the diner. Mimi's phone sang out, but it wasn't Hannah's ringtone. It was Mimi's little sister Sasha, who was away at college. She was known for making phone calls at odd times, like when she was a little buzzed at a frat party. That's when all the emotional baggage would be thrown open and Mimi would have to be the one to pack it again. It was 1:30 by the time Sasha was ready to release Mimi and Mimi ran out to her car as soon as her sister was gone.

"Two," she asked herself as she fumbled with car keys. "What is it about that time?"

The diner was a good 20 minutes away, 3 towns over. It was late enough for her to make good time, she hoped. Mimi watched her clock as she shifted through the light traffic. She sped off the exit and waited impatiently as red lights taunted her and slowed her progress. It was 1:55 by the time she reached the diner. She drove around the lot looking for Hannah's car and spotted it near the handicapped parking on the side of the diner.

Mimi looked at her watch, tapping it's face as she looked carefully in the windows for signs of Hannah. The watch was reading 1:57 and Mimi could not clearly see where her friend was inside the diner. She walked in the diner's foyer, peeking through the inner glass door. She saw the familiar long brown waves. Hannah was at the counter - alone. "1:58," Mimi said, stepping back into the shadows of the foyer to wait for David. She looked out the windows expectantly. She looked in on Hannah who was looking around discreetly but with clear eagerness. Each time the door swung open, Mimi retreated back into her corner spot. But it was not David. "1:59."

A pair of young women walked in laughing. "Oh man, it's time to Spring ahead! At 2, you set the clocks to 3!"

"Two," Mimi repeated. Then she stepped out of the shadows and went in to sit next to her friend.

Hannah drew in a breath when she saw Mimi standing next to her but she was not surprised. Mimi sat on the other side of her so they could both watch the door, but Hannah had already come to realize what had happened.

The young women had been seated at a table behind the friends. Still talking about the time, one of the women gasped as she watched the waitress set the time on the diner clock. "Look at that! At 2, we spring ahead to 3. It's as if time went from 1:59 to 3 a.m. and 2 got lost in the shuffle!"

"Oh yeah! How weird," her friend exclaimed.

Mimi smiled a sad smile at Hannah as she quietly sat next to her friend and waited for a time that would never arrive.

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What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

Before He Turns 9...

...my son will be able to ride a bike without training wheels. That's what he did yesterday. Sure, seems like he should have known by now. I'm pretty sure I was riding solo by then. But we don't live in the world I grew up in. I learned on the street in front of my own house. Mr. T, amazingly more protective of our boy than I am, said he wasn't ready for that since he couldn't control himself. And since I don't let him out alone, nor do I let him out in the cold, the opportunities were few and far between. Saturday was a perfect day. Mr. T took the kids out to ride their bikes and he finally got him to balance.

"Are you proud of me," he asked me.

"Absolutely."

The wheels are off.



...my son will be able to throw and catch a baseball. That was something else he did on Saturday. Son said he wanted to play Little League. How can I say no to a physical activity? So I signed him up but I told Mr. T that I was already Son's Cub Scouts partner. He was going to have to play ball and do the Little League thing with him. He played baseball in high school, after all, so who else?

The Little League association sent emails about clinics they were planning in February. Since Son has never played outside of the great stadium of the Wii, I was glad he'd get a chance to see what he was in for and get some practice. But the clinics never happened. The season starts at the end of April. So Mr. T took the kids out to play in the back yard and, more importantly, to throw the ball. I was in the house Twittering away. Soon I heard bawling and sat up to fine-tune my ears. The side door in the kitchen was open so I could hear clearly and it sure sounded like my kid.

Uh oh.

He came up the stairs with his usual open-mouthed cry, his cheeks shiny from the tears.

"What happened?"

"The ballllll hi-it me!"

Sigh. Lord, how do I do this?

"You can't do this," I told him, wiping his face.

He looked at me.

"I know it hurt and I'm not saying it can't hurt and you can't cry about it. But you wanted to play baseball, remember? Remember I told you that ball will probably hit you sometimes. It's no fun, but it's possible. Look, I know it hurt but this is what you want to do?"

He shook his head yes.

"Then this is one of those things that you're going to have to learn how to handle. You have to learn how to get the ball so you don't get hit too much. How to get out of the way, maybe. You're not being a baby by crying when you do get hit, but you've got to make yourself harder for this. I know it's not easy. You tell me if you don't want to play baseball now."

"I want to play."

"OK. Then let's clean up your face. You look good. No bruising. You're good. Let's get tough for this. You get hurt, you cry. OK. But let's not do that yell-it-out thing you do, OK? If you want this, go for it."

He wiped his face and went back out. I watched them from the window. Mr. T was not throwing hard so I figured the ball wouldn't be leaving a mark. I watched him throw it to Son. I watched Son try to catch it. I watched Son throw it back and - though I'm no expert - I think I detect a bit of an arm on him. He may actually have a bit of talent to work with here. Whew! But he is his father's son. And many cousins have done the basketball thing too. One is on the verge of pro. I suppose it's not all that strange that Son may have a little athlete in him.

When he came back in..."Guess what, mommy. I can throw and catch the ball now."

I'm nodded. "I'm not surprised."

...my son will know the facts of life. He knows the overview but no details as of yet. But he asked me today. "How do babies get in stomachs?" and I was not interested in laying it all out right then. I'm not afraid to. I'm not a coddler in the least and I use real words for real things. I was just feeling lazy on a beautiful Sunday and I wasn't up for The Talk.

Sigh. "I can't do this today, Son."

"Can I ask Daddy?"

"Go ahead." He hustles on out. "But I bet you he won't be up for it either," I call after him.

He was back in a minute.

"Well?"

"He wouldn't say."

"I'll tell you, Son. Just not today, ok? It's not a quick conversation."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

And you can bet he'll hold me to it, one of these days this week, before he turns 9.

MM: Thy Kingdom Saved

My prompt of the day was temporarily interrupted by my need to rant due to the idiotic challenge of Rush Lamebaugh. I now return to my regularly scheduled prompt.

The prompt: She adjusted his bow tie....

What came out of my head:
She adjusted his bow tie and stood back to admire her husband. Cinderella and her King. It was hard to believe the hurdles they once had to jump through to get to where they were and now they were facing the biggest hurdle of their lives - the continuation of their very existence.

The Kingdom of Happily Ever After was in the greatest depression it has experienced since The Great Depression of the 1920s that existed on the planet Earth. The KHEA governing body even had a proposal on the table to change the name of the province to Thy Kingdom Come as their perpetual prayer to God for help, but the legislators decided to keep the issue on the table until they had all had a chance to take stock of what was before them and the consequences of executing such major changes in response to what would surely be a temporary setback. Depressions didn't last forever - on Earth or in KHEA.

But the proponents for the change were citing the changes that were now instilled in the very DNA of the Earth children and they did not see how those changes could be reversed in one generation. "It took decades and decades to get them as jaded as they are," said Senator Grumpy. "What's going to change them back in a flash?"

So now, Cinderella and her King were preparing for the last ball to be held in the kingdom. Budget cuts had forced the King to look deeply into how he spent the Kingdom's finances and this was certainly a misuse of taxpayer's money right now, given the great need to pump more into the KHEA healthcare system for the sake of Kingdom residents who were slowly dying from lack of oxygen.

Everyone in KHEA was affected, but some were hit harder and faster than others. The creatures of the air - the same ones who helped Cinderella to make her first ball gown, the fairies, even the witches - were no longer flying. The Giant had escaped Jack and Mother Goose country to quietly retire in KHEA, but his home in the sky has collapsed as clouds began to wither away and die and his retirement fund was wiped out.

The problem was that the air in KHEA was not the same oxygen known to man on Earth. KHEA oxygen was part hydrogrn, part nitrogren, and part wishes, hopes and dreams of the children on Earth. The wishes, hopes and dream, a.k.a. WHD, was being depleted as the children of Earth were forced to mature before their chronological age dictated that they should. The crimes perpetrated against them by those in whose care they were entrusted slowly eroded their sense of wonder. Every resident of KHEA knew that WHD from Earth helped form the air of the Kingdom of Happily Ever After and it had to continue if the residents of this world were to continue.

"Rapunzel said she would play the flute for us tonight and The Prince-Formerly-Known-As-The-Beast said he would let his staff sing for us tonight. It should be a grand time had by all - even if it is the last dance before we are extinct."

"Do not worry, my darling," her King said. "The Little Mermaid is going to be doing a lecture and demonstration on underwater living and breathing. Surely one of the good witches can cast a spell on us and send our Kingdom underwater to survive until change comes."

"I hope you are right," Cinderella sighed. She stroked her pet Bambi as Thumper snuggled against her leg to comfort her. "It is very difficult now. Even the Billy Goats Gruff had to take side jobs as trash collectors because their hours were cut short. And I don't know how many times I can listen to Tom Thumb go on and on about feeling shortchanged. It's wearisome."

As the couple strolled down their palatial hallway, Goldilocks came running up to them. The couple had taken her in ever since The Three Bears Mortgage Company foreclosed on her home. "Did you hear," she breathed. "Change! Change has come to the children of Earth!"

"Goldi, have you been nipping at the porridge again? How many times can we pay for your recovery," Cinderella asked, annoyed by the pipe-curled girl.

"No! I'm telling the truth!"

"She is! She is, your highnesses!" Pinocchio had found his way to the palace to deliver the news in person.

"Pinocchio! Shouldn't you be getting ready for your news broadcast? You know you are the only one we can trust with your nose for news." Pinocchio had vied for the job along with Hansel who had Gretel in tow to be weather girl. Jack and Jill tried but never stood a chance because they were always falling down on the job. The news station had decided that with Pinocchio's special nasal abilities, the audience would be most comfortable trusting his reports.

"I heard it through the grapevine!"

"The giant's grapevine?"

"The very one! He was down on Earth again...."

"Ugh," The King gasped. "He knows they think he is Big Foot. I keep telling him to stop exposing himself and us that way!"

"Well," Pinocchio continued. "He was down there, ummm, in their month of January during the inauguration of the King of America."

"I believe that country is run by democracy, not theocracy, Pinocchio," The King reminded him.

"Yeah, well. The Prince-Formerly-Known-As-The-Beast gave Beauty the right to vote and remember how that turned out for them," he replied.

"They got couple's therapy and they are fine now," Cinderella reminded him.

"Nevertheless," Pinocchio continued. "There was this vote down there and the people elected someone who did not come from the royal clan of Bush or Kennedy or Clinton. Imagine that! They elected a commoner!"

"No!" Cinderella and The King were in amazement.

"Yes," Goldilocks shrieked. "But that's not the best part. It's the children..."

"The children,"The King asked.

"Yes, they finally got what they needed. Apparently this commoner Barack Obama gave them all a much-needed infusion of Wishes, Hopes and Dreams! We were dying because the children were dying and now they are becoming revived!"

As The King, Cinderella, Goldilocks and Pinocchio continued to talk, they noticed a brightness start to fall over the great hall of the palace.

"My word, is that what I think it is," Cinderella asked. She gazed up at the massive skylight in the ceiling. Everyone gasped and ran outside.

The trees were already laden with wide-eyed woodland creatures as they stared at the sky. Trolls stood hand in hand with pigs. Red Riding Hood sat atop the Fox's shoulders to get a better look. Witches, birds and fairies were once again in the air all trying to catch the rainbows that filled the sky though rain was nowhere to be found.

"It's true," Cinderella breathed. "The children must have found renewed hope and purpose. The dreams of some of the older children must have come true. Somehow they kept hope alive. It's the only way we could be renewed so swiftly! I can breathe again!"

"Indeed, my Queen," The King said. "Change has finally come."

***************************************************************************

What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

A Letter to Lamebaugh

Dear Rush,

How DARE you. Do I typically care what you have to say? No. I don't. But you want to challenge our president as if he were some common senator now? Actually, I'm kind of sickened by the fact that I even have to share him with you at all. You don't deserve someone trying to help your ignorant behind. You ought to be glad the man is CHRISTIAN and knows how to turn the other cheek - repeatedly.

Lest you forget what you said, I quote:

Just come on this program. Let's have a little debate. You tell me how wrong I am and you can convince the rest of the Americans that don't agree with you how wrong we all are. You're a smart guy, Mr. President. You don't need these hacks to front for you. You've debated the best! You've debated Hillary Clinton. You've debated John Edwards. You've debated Joe Biden. You've debated Dennis Kucinich. You've debated the best out there. You are one of the most gifted public speakers of our age. I would think, Mr. President, you would jump at this opportunity. Don't send lightweights like Begala and Carville to do your bidding -- and forget about the ballerina, Emanuel. He's got things to do in his office. These people, compared to you, Mr. President, are rhetorical chum.

All I can say is how dare you. PRESIDENT Obama is in the White House. Which of our last white presidents did you challenge to a debate AFTER the race was over? Excuse you but this is what many people are talking about when we say racial issues are not gone. Not buried. Not a thing of the past. It is typical, so freakin' TYPICAL, for the black person to have won the race and STILL have to prove himself and show how he did in fact win fair and square and that yes, he deserves the job. The man has been in office less than THREE MONTHS and you, Lamebaugh, have the AUDACITY to want him to answer to you? To explain himself to you? Who are you again? The fact that you don't even see how ridiculous you are proves that many of your ilk retain this sense of entitlement that is at the base of the destruction we are all suffering now.

There is no sense trying to speak reason to you for it is incapable of penetrating your rock-like head. I know you would not agree with me, but that is because you have not lived life as a person of color. But I tell you now that what you are doing is indeed racist at it's very core and I will now stand out the way because while there will be many of us who will let this crap roll off our backs, many more will be rising up to help you see just how moronic you are. Like this sistah, Verite. And oh, I'm afraid to even go see what Field Negro has to say. He is not known to mince words but he will certainly mince you.

I would ask you to have some respect but it is clear that whatever you were born with has been lost in the tide of your political nonsense.

Enough now. You are not worth wasting more of my precious blog space.

With great consternation,

MM: Remember the Time?

Prompt: You look through the peephole of your front door and see this:

What came out of my head:
Ashes. There were ashes everywhere. Lisa's eye widened to take in as much as she could. The dark grey sky made it hard to see and it seemed like a storm was coming. Or had already come and gone. She drew in a breath and pushed away from the door.

"What the..." she whispered. Her heart quickened as she tried to process what she saw. Afraid to draw back the curtain from the window beside the door, she leaned into the door again. Closing her eyes she got as close as she could and willed herself to look again.

Ashes. There were still ashes everywhere. Not so much like there was just a house fire but as if the whole world had burned around her. The wind was stirring up the dust and the isolation of the world outside her door threatened to envelope her soul. She quickly stepped away, looking around, trying to decide what to do; who to call.

She looked at the window again. The heavy curtain blocked most of the light but the edges were so much brighter than the light she had just seen through the peep hole of her door.

She sucked in all the air she could and let out a slow, long breath. Stepping to the window she carefully touched the curtain and let each finger fall on the material before shutting her eyes again and allowing her hand to let the light in. The brightness lit up the darkness she saw behind her closed lids and curiosity won as she looked fully on to the scene outside.

It was...as it should be. Bright. Sunny. Lisa pressed her hands against the glass and stared in confusion. Children rode by on bikes, chased each other around parked cars. One neighbor in a football jersey spoke to another as he washed his car. Lisa shook her head. Closed and reopened her eyes. She grew calm as she realized her order had been restored.

The ringing doorbell made her jump.

She was still new to the area and didn't know a soul yet. She wasn't worried but she couldn't get her mother's parting words out of her mind. "I know you're a liberated woman, Lisa, but be careful in that big city, ok? All this peace and love your generation keeps spouting doesn't negate that there are evil doers out there." Lisa couldn't convince her mother to leave the dark ages and step into the 60s but she could certainly step into it for herself. And she did. Alone. A feminist who could take care of herself.

Still, it didn't hurt to be safe. Who could it be? She looked out the peephole once again. Ashes filled the streets once again and this time, she looked harder. Were those...

"People," she said out loud. "Those look like people but they aren't moving." She spotted the charred clothes of the corpses and recognized the jersey of her car-washing neighbor. Looking around there was something hidden under a car. The shape was familiar. The bent metal reshaped itself in her mind and she recognized it for the child's bicycle it was.

"Oh my God. The bomb. They dropped the bomb." As she said the words, Lisa could see the sky light up and a mobile puff of smoke start to streak across the sky. Sirens began to blast and she dropped to her knees waiting to feel the impact. As she cowered she remembered the children playing.

The doorbell's chime sent Lisa scurrying across the floor. "Go away," she shouted, crawling backward as she spoke. But the bell was persistent and rang again. Lisa gasped, unsure of what to do and looked at the window yet again. The same bright light shone down to the floor and the doorbell rang again.

"No. No. No!" Lisa sprung up from the floor, her lips curled in contempt for whatever it was that was trying to torment her. She refused to look out the tiny hole again. This time she would face it head on. Grabbing the knob, she yanked open the door with all her might.

The young curly-headed teen stood smiling outside the screen. He adjusted his glasses as he held up pamphlets. "Hi there. My name is Adam. Did you know that our country stands at the brink of nuclear devastation? It could happen at any minute. Join our cause. Help us save our world."

***************************************************************************

What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

MM: Escape to Self

The prompt: They began their journey after nightfall.

What came out of my head:
They began their journey after nightfall. Stumbling over branches. Nicked by sharp limbs. Tripped by their urgency to escape. It was safest to travel while hiding under the opaque skirt of Mother Nature but that wasn't why they ran. They were born nocturnal beings. Running in the dark wasn't scary. See, they had no choice. Sleep by day, work by night. This was what came naturally to them. Alicia would always say, "Anybody can be a day person. Heck, everybody's doing it! It takes someone with skill and stamina to sleep in the midst of all that noise and to not be driven mad by the silence of the night." For years Alicia thought herself a loaner because she could never find a kindred spirit who understood how it felt to be energized by the stars and moon. Solar energy? Pish posh! Try celestial energy, my friend. In the night you could wish upon a star or sing by the light of the silvery moon. Try that with the sun. You'd just put an eye out!

She found that friend, but Alicia got tired of defending herself. She was tired of over caffeinating in order to stay awake. She was beginning to fool no one and it was getting dangerous. In her world, everyone needed their "full sleep" and God had made it clear that that sleep should commence when the sun was fully in it's sleeping chamber, hidden away just over the horizon, and cease when it was fully visible once again. Of course sometimes you did not actually see the sun. So the Daytrippers made it easy. When the sky was no longer bright, it was time to say good night. Anyone not abiding by this law would be prosecuted, persecuted, then executed. No exceptions.

So she ran. To where, she wasn't sure. She was just tired of people asking her, "Why do you sleep so late? How can you be so alert at the end of the day? What's wrong with you, anyway?" They were beginning to suspect. They were a society of like-minded people and they would not know how to live with anyone not of like mind.

And she ran. They could survive out "there" wherever there was, right? They could do it. It wasn't going to be easy.

And she ran. Away from the torment of 9 to 5. Away from the day time soaps and talk shows that dominated television. Away from the top of the morning until she saw the expanse of sky, the looming moon that lit her way, the shimmery pathway that looked slippery but felt soft as air, and she embraced the freedom of that dark space, her breath catching in the wind making it hard to breathe out, yet the soft strokes on her cheeks were welcoming.

And she ran to a place where the night never ends.

She was unrecognizable when they found her body at the bottom of the cliff. Her running companion had no choice but to lead them to her and by doing so he sentenced himself to life under the watchful eye of the Daytrippers who were determined to get him to conform.

Then there was Alicia. The mortician did his best to put the pieces back together again and he did. She was a work of art. So he framed her, sealed her in a special solution that would preserve her for all eternity and displayed her in a place of honor in his facility where she could be admired day and night, forever in the light.

***************************************************************************

What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

MM: Memories

The prompt: "Where on earth did you find that?"

What came out of my head:

“Where on earth did you find that,” she asked. She had hoped that her voice didn’t betray too much nor show too little interest. She really did want to know how he managed to find something she thought she had so cleverly hidden. So much so that she had forgotten about it herself over the course of their 2-year relationship.

She took the plunge with him. Allowing him into her space. Letting him share her home, her food, her bed. She’d never manage to stick it out so long before but something about this one felt right. He was a snuggler. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that yet but it was nice to come home to. He wanted to be everywhere she was. That still took a little getting used to.

“Cat got your tongue huh?” He looked at her and waited.

“OK, OK.” She sighed. “There was…another. She was special. Very unexpected, you know.”

Still he looked and simply listened.

“She was sweet but, I don’t know, stand-offish too. Liked her space, you know? I got used to that. Everyone having their own space.” She sat down so he sat beside her, watching and listening intently.

“I got used to that and it was nice. Except she never liked to go out. I never understood it. I tried but she wouldn’t have it unless SHE felt like and then, when she did, she was so freaking disloyal. Chasing every cat in town! Here I am thinking she’s into me!”

He touched her arm.

“I know. She left one day. Never came back and this… this was all I had left of her.”

She felt the smoothness of the leather as if it were as new as the day she bought it.

“She felt tied down by it, you know. Maybe she thought it was a symbol of commitment. Maybe she thought it meant she was mine and she couldn’t be with anyone else.” She shrugged. “Maybe she just didn’t like it. You like it?”

He snorted in reply.

“Oh come on. No need to be so judgmental. It’s not that bad. Jesse’s gone now, Max. You’re here now. No need to be jealous. She chased one too many fly-by-night relationships and I don’t know what ever happened to her. She never bothered to find me again. And I thought I’d be alone. And it’s taking some getting used to, Max. But you’re here now.”

She stroked him the way he liked and if he were a cat, he surely would have purred. “Yeah, you’re a man of few words, Max, but I know what you like.”

She stroked the leather again as she admired it.

“This wasn't cheap, you know. Here. It’s yours now.”

Max began to paw her. “Chill, chill. I know what you want,” she smiled slyly and slowly got up from the sofa to head to the coat rack by the door.

“I know chains can be a little difficult to deal with,” she said, “but I think you can handle it. I think you’re here to stay. Right, Max?” She slowly bent down as Max slowly crawled across the floor.

“This is for you, my boy.” She slipped the smooth leather collar over his head.

“There’s you go. Nice huh? See I told you I know what you want. Right? Speak boy!”

Max barked and jumped up in excitement as the chain of the leash rattled in response.

“Ah yes! My beautiful baby. Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

***************************************************************************

What's this about, Monica?

You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!

While you're here, the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition is wrapping up this month. Have you voted for us today? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

My Own March Madness

FIRST: If it's March, then it must be THE countdown. Thirteen more days until the big 9. Son will be 9, though he acts like he's 6 way too much. Figuring out what to do is getting tougher as the bigger parties are no longer required and he's happy to celebrate with a few friends. No more Chuck E. Cheese. No Bounce U (that place is expensive anyway). No Lil' Gym. So what can he do? Laser tag? Mr. T. said the facility was too dirty. He was thinking to take him to Medieval Times in Jersey but he barely eats as it is and I don't see him eating there. We'd have to go to McDonald's before we went to dinner! Disney World? Come on little dude. Be real! Bowling? Eh. It's still an option since he suggested it. Maybe another sleepover he said. No thanks! Let's hope I can avoid that. I need at least a year in between those anyway. Whatever it is, I'm hoping I won't need a personal loan to afford it. Fingers crossed.

SECOND: I've been resubmitting my flash fiction lately but I haven't been writing as much of those as I'd like. So March will be my month to grab some story starters from some books a friend loaned me and from prompts other friends post and let's see what comes out of my head every day, Mon-Fri. I'm still thinking about when I'll do it. It will have to be about the same time every day but when am I consistently free? Getting up earlier is out of the question. I'll work something out but no matter what, I start on March 2nd. Hopefully I'll entertain you for the month. A personal challenge to myself. My own March madness.

THIRD: This is it! This is the month the contest wraps up. Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

Sacrifice for the Lambs

Parenting is hard. You knew that. But just in case you didn't because you don't deal with children in any way or you didn't know because you are one of those parents that lets the kids raise themselves, I'm just here to reiterate to the world that parenting is hard. So much self-sacrifice and you never really think of all the little things you may need to sacrifice occasionally or for a really long time, waiting on that magical time when they are old enough to do something or grown up and gone, gone, gone, woah oh oh oh.

You may have to get up early when you're a night owl because I think most kids are wired to wake up with the birds lest they miss a cartoon re-run.

You may have to go to bed late no matter how tired you are because of homework that never ends. "Are we done yet?" "No. I have another worksheet in my folder." Ugh.

You may have to miss that favorite TV show for the same reason, so you DVR it but can you watch it? Probably not because you want to sleep, which you can't do as much as you'd like so the shows pile up and then you delete them because you're running out of space.

You may have to miss some activity you'd like to do so they can have activities of their own. After all, they need to be exposed to things and develop a life of their own.

You do have to ALWAYS rephrase things in your head before you say something the wrong way or that you don't mean, thus risking damaging their psyches or opening yourself to questions you aren't ready to answer.

You may have to miss work to take them to an appointment or to go to their school or because they are sick or because you are exhausted and the only rest you will get is when they go to school and you finally get the house to yourself.

You may have to live in a pigsty, no matter how much you hate it because sweeping every day is exhausting and asking repeatedly for the bookbags and clothes and small, pointy toys to be removed from the common areas makes you tired of hearing your own voice.

You may have to settle for quickies in the middle of the night when you'd rather sleep instead of slow-pace in the well-rested mornings because someone is forever slamming open your bedroom door just to do a little dance and then leave.

You may have to lock the bathroom door or else be forced to referee an argument from your porcelain throne. You really should just go ahead and lock that door.

You may have to put on a rubber glove to do anything in the backseat of your own car because it's always a dumping ground of the little inhabitants who insist they need to bring everything they own with them everywhere they go and then leave it there for future automobile entertainment.

You may have to eat a lot of cereal because the rest of the good food disappears faster then morning bagels in the office kitchen. They are ALWAYS hungry and will tell you so in a really whiny voice.

You may have to wear clothes you are tired of so they can buy the books in the school bookclub or get new shoes that never last more than a year anyway or simply save for some future thing you know you are going to want for them.

And just when you think you have nothing left to give and no more patience, they crawl like a cat to your side on the sofa and kiss you just because you are you. They stare at you while you watch TV just "because I love you." They work hard to find a joke that makes you laugh and run in triumph to tell the other one they succeeded. They tell daddy, "You need to treat mommy like a queen," because something in them tells them that's how it should be. And you fall in love with them all over again.

Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

Super Me!

Visited Kerri who sent me to get sheroed. So I did. That's right. Don't mess with me.



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Walking a Mile

Everyone has to deal with something, right? Diabetes, MS, ADD, anorexia, something. I've been pondering writings about life with a live-in lodger of some ailment. I thought, "What would I think about on a daily basis if it were me? Could it be me?"

I've told you my main health thing - eczema. Does it compare to some of the really life-threatening illnesses? Does anyone's specific ailment compare to another's? Sure it does. Be honest. We all count our blessings that someone else's cross isn't ours to bear. And when you are at whatever YOUR worst is, is it not a personal hell for you that seems no one else will ever experience? It's not selfish to me to feel this way. How we express it is a different thing, but I'm not writing about that expression. I'm just giving you a glimpse of me living with my own thing - daily.

What do I think about.

1 - Clothing choices. Never wearing anything synthetic. At my best, I can get away with it. At my worst, it's 100% cotton, baby. There is also never wearing anything sleeveless without a shrug or something tagging along, unless I am on a distant island where no one knows me and I therefore don't care what they think. Years of topical steroids have thinned my skin so that it looks like I have some sort of stretch marks, when really it's a loss of elasticity in places. Needless to say, summer can be maddening. Why care? Have you shopped lately? I can't escape the sleeveless shi(r)t but do I want to dress like I'm 80 and about to plow? Yeah. I do have strong feelings about this.

2 - Food choices. I love oranges and tangerines and orange juice. LOVE THEM. Haven't had them in years upon years. When I was pregnant with my first child, I saw clearly the effect the acid from this fruit has on my skin. So no fresh oranges (for my kids either). Or apples. Or pears. Or acidic anything. Kind of limits the wonderful fruit choices. Other foods to beware? Anything with milk in it. But milk isn't good for the digestive system of many of us anyway, so maybe that's a good thing.

3 - Pregnancy choices. Part of the reason why baby #3 is a hard decision to make is because of what I may have to live with. Your favorite rough leather purse? Smooth as silk compared to how I can be. When I am in full flare-up mode the comments range from "Are you wearing makeup? Looks nice!" (I'm not.) to "Were you burned in a fire?" Yep. Been asked that at least twice. A great self-esteem builder.

4 - Living at the doctor's office. I was born with eczema but I did not look like it nor did it affect my life until college when I lived off campus with a couple of friends in a house where animals used to live. I'm not allergic to them, per se, but dust is all the dead cells people and animals leave behind. Mites eat that up and dig deep into carpets and such. I am allergic to the mites. And trees. And grass. And winter. And spring. And summer. After diagnosis, I was predictable. Mini flare ups in certain places on my body at certain times of the year. Livable. After pregnancy, I was unpredictable and remain so. Stress, food, fabric, anything can set me off. I am on my 5th dermatologist since my 1st pregnancy but so far he's a keeper. Still, after a while, your skin knows your tricks and the meds don't work like they used to and you may even have to just find a new doctor and start all over again. Allergy shots - 2 years, twice a week, 20 minutes per visit - didn't work out.

5 - Permanency. Scratches on me leave permanent marks, unless I get a plastic surgeon to take care of it like I did last time. Ever itched so bad but tried not to scratch? It's hard, huh?

6 - Fragility. If you cut me in any of the places where my skin is thinnest, I will easily be hurt. I've been cut by the pricetags on clothes. That's how fragile my skin is. My family's touches can be too rough sometimes because I bruise very easily. My personality is strong because my first line of defense is not.

7 - The future. Old people are wrinkled. I'm already living with less-than-youthful skin. Where exactly is left for me to go? I try not to think about it.

For me, the crap going on inside of you that doesn't show has a blessing built in because it stays inside of you. I wear mine on my sleeve literally. When it's bad, I can't sleep. I am scratching without even thinking. Skin is all over the place like I'm leaving trails of pepper everywhere I go. (Am I grossing you out? Stop now.) Scratching leaves me vulnerable to staph infections which I easily get. I retain water to the point of not being able to wear shoes or, once, even walk at all. Moving is painful because of the lack of elasticity in the skin. My skin is thick because, oddly enough, eczema is about skin trying to repair itself and it does so quickly on top of itself. This, ironically, makes me a REALLY fast healer.

The thickness of my skin makes me hot which makes me sweat and sweat keeps the itch cycle turning. Showers must be cool, not hot, and yes showers, not baths because you can't be in water too long. And if there is anything in the tap water, I will know it because it will sting my skin like someone rubbed salt on a wound. And intimacy? Who wants to cuddle up to that or show it to anyone else? No. That goes into a coma too.

At this moment, I can feel my eyelids because they are the affected place right now. Funny thing is women love my eyes. They think I am a whiz with the mascara talking about the way I blend so perfectly. It's not my doing, ladies. God did that blending for me. In full flare-up mode, I look like a model.

You know how that perfect outfit makes you feel? Nothing needs to be adjusted. Everything falls in the right place whether you are sitting or standing or bending over. You look good and you're comfortable so you are free to concentrate on whatever task is at hand. You walk around confident that your outfit is doing its job to not make you self-conscientious in any way. Walking around in my skin is the opposite of that. It's like walking around in an outfit you have to constantly adjust. I am always, always, ALWAYS aware of myself.

I'm not looking for sympathy or anything. Just putting myself in someone else's shoes of writing about having to live with an affliction and how it affects my daily life. We all have our thing. Eczema and I have gotten used to each other and I wouldn't trade it for anything else.

What are YOU living with?

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No Words Needed

Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

Stir Yourself Up

Lately I've been thinking about motivation. How I do all I do and how others seem to think I am a one-woman dynamo but really, it's just my way. I'm not really doing anything that others can't do. It's just I have this thing, a weird need to do multiple things at one time (not necessarily literally) and I still don't know yet why I am that way.

The rest of the world does things the normal way - they start something, they finish it, they start a new thing. Yes, they have to sometimes be a parent, spouse and employee all at once and then maybe they throw in one other love of theirs to help keep themselves fulfilled. But that, I think, is what most sane people prefer to handle at once and I think that's great. When I need to chill out, this is what I fall back to doing.

I never claimed to be sane when it came to this compulsion of mine. I do think it is a compulsion but I do not think it is a sickness. It is - again - my way. I get bored easily so multiple things keep me entertained. I do one thing and maybe jump to the next and around I go until one things gets done, actually until right BEFORE one thing gets done, then I go find something else to bring into the mix lest I'm short one thing and suddenly find myself feeling like I have too much time on my hands. Yes. I do feel that. And it's a weird feeling because it's like not being able to breathe suddenly. Not having something to do makes me antsy.

And then there are my down times.

Like the one I just had. There are short ones, which this was, and then are are longer ones. Both are brought on by a need to rejuvenate. If I never took a break, I'd go to work and be on a computer all day. I'd then go home and be on the computer in my email, or writing, or doing stuff for my business all night. Somewhere in there I have to do things with and for the kids and sometimes Mr. T who works a lot himself so he actually doesn't disrupt things too often. Oh, and I have to sleep too. And this is what I do a lot. Until I get tired. I don't really get tired of stuff I am doing. I just need to get away from the computer and when I do that, that means all that other stuff doesn't happen because after all, my business and my networking are online matters. My writing isn't but I still need the computer to write since my hand never moves as fast as my brain.

So for a good week but probably more like 2 weeks, I worked, I went home and maybe did a little more work for my job because I can. But my business email overfloweth. My Twitter friends didn't hear from me for a week for sure. Facebook friends and my business networking groups had to wait. I didn't think about greeting card copy. I didn't think about my book. And I was happy.

"I don't know how you do all you do, Monica," is something I hear a lot. Well, this is how. I know me. I know when I need a break and I take it. I motivate myself. Motivation is a funny thing. If you want to do all those things you want to do, you can't count on motivation to keep coming from others. Sometimes you have to be able to motivate yourself but at the same time, the more you allow yourself to be around and do the things that motivate you, the longer you will probably last. Still, you have to know yourself and listen to yourself and agree to chill out when your body calls for it. Doesn't matter how many voice mail messages you have. And I know that being around certain people and watching certain shows WILL stir something up in me, so I purposely stay away until I hear that call to come back and get moving again.

I hear a whisper of it now. I went back to Twitter and started my usual chatter. "Where have been Monica!" I just needed a little hiatus, that's all. I cleared up my personal email that can get crazy but not nearly as crazy as the business email. That took longer than expected so tonight I will hopefully get the business email. And I will set up an autoresponder so people know not to expect an immediate response because yes, I am busy and I do want to respond but just can't do it right then. I will filter more of the emails too so I see less stuff in my inbox. Just seeing it can give a person agita, you know. I really hate a full emailbox anyway.

Just like daily prayer helps keep you in tune with God and Him speaking to you, doing something for yourself to help you advance in your personal goals every day is a necessity to keep going. Again, I'm compulsive, so I do something nearly every day because I simply must or I can't breathe. But this is how I am able to do it. And I am around others mostly like me. That helps. But each one had to find their own way to keeping the fires burning.

Also, I know what my gifts and talents are. I know as much of my purpose as God has allowed me to understand thus far. And this helps give me fulfillment. I am not able to last too long in anything that makes me unhappy so I have no choice, you see? I have to do what I love and I have to do it all the time or I get REALLY antsy because I feel like I am wasting my time. I am a mother and wife and employee and writer and business owner and if I can do all that, so can you.

Motivate yourself if you think you need it. I just got a tip from a coach whose list I am on. Keep a success journal. Write down every success - big and small - you achieve. When you need a lift, go back to it and remind yourself of what you have accomplished so far. This is one way to motivate and inspire yourself. To me, life is too short and unpredictable to wait for some special time to do something. There will always be something or someone commanding your time. You can't do it all right now and at the same time, but you can work on it a little every day and keep pressing until you get there. Know yourself and what stirs you up.

You can't just be a talker though. You have to be a doer. So go do you!

Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

I Want to Sleep. I Want to Thank.

I am tired. I get this way sometimes so I'm not worried about it. When you do a lot like I do it's bound to happen. All I want to do at the moment is go to work, go home and do whatever homework the kids have that's not done (there is always undone homework no matter what time I get home), and then watch TV or play sudoku on Son's DS. That's it. I'm not in the mood for anything else at the moment. So my life is waiting on me. It's a puppy I tossed outside to do its business and now it's clawing at the door trying to get back in.

• It's the lesson I need to complete for my children's writing course.
• It's the bio I need to write for the woman who interviewed me for her book.
• It's the HUNDREDS of emails I need to go through in my business emailbox.
• It's the single page I need to write (and the other page I need to update) in order to be done with my book proposal.
• It's the email I need to send out to reconnect with people who took an interest in our puzzles.
• It's the ad I need to create to go in the newspaper some time next month.
• It's the catalog I need to review.
• It's the people I need to respond to about hopefully using/selling/advertising our puzzles.
• It's the printer I need to visit about some projects and a proposal my partner and I want to make.
• It's the greeting card copy I need to write. (This dog is getting bigger by the letter, right?)
• It's the labels I still need to print off for the last of the puzzles we repackaged.
• It's the 2 articles I need to review before passing them on to a friend to edit for me.
• It's the vending this month I need to start preparing for.

So what's in the way?

• My son has more work to do to complete his Bear Badge requirements. He can't do it alone. And then come the extra badges.
  
• My son has signed up for Little League and the first clinic to help him start getting ready is this Saturday. There's another in 2 weeks. Then maybe some training in March. LL starts in April.
  
• My daughter sings in the children's choir and though rehearsal is currently only once a month, it's still something else to do. (It's going to go 2x a month soon.)
• We're thinking about signing Daughter up for swimming lessons so she can finally do what she thinks she can do - swim. Son has enough on his plate right now. He can learn later.
  
• Every. Single. Weekday, there is homework I have to help finish or a project that is coming up - for either kid, sometimes both and sometimes this require library visits.
  
• You know, that refrigerator does NOT clean itself. Nor does the tub. Or the dishes. And the laundry, though full of pieces with perfectly good arms and legs, refuses to pick itself up and walk upstairs for me. I think I've told you in the past this is OK because the spouse tends to cook and clean the rest of the bathroom and vaccum and grocery shop so no, I can't put any of this off on him.
• Daughter wants me to read to her. I don't do it every night but she tries. After a certain hour, my reading skills are zapped, I keep telling her.
• I really need to do Daughter's hair. That means at least 4 hours out of any given day. Probably closer to 6 depending on how small I make her braids, if I braid it that same day. In the meanwhile, the puffs she loves so much taunt me. Daring me to wash them. (This is one of those times I thank God for our hair and the fact that we don't have to wash it every day.)
• I should probably factor in the myriad of other events that crop up - The graduation dinner I went to last night for people I know who graduated from the business workshop I took years ago; the PTA meeting tonight, the hair appointment Friday night.
  

And at work?

• There are columns to read and magically transform into whatever the focus du jour is at that time.
• There's a whole website to periodically go through and keep track of.
• New stuff to write.
• Old stuff to update.
• People to manage off site.
• Questions to answer.
• Info to research for various projects or quizzes or whatever needs to be created.
• Newsletters to write.
• And that's all just a bit of everything I do that I could easily do every day until at least 7 before going home to wrangle homework and force people to take their baths.

I should go to a couple of business networking meetings twice a month but I haven't the energy right now. I should go to my sorority meeting once a month, but I don't feel like tripping up to Hartford even that amount of time. Son's birthday is coming up. I really should start thinking. Daughter saw Dora on a billboard. I really should look into it or else cover up all the windows on the car except the front one. Valentine's Day is coming. I need to go order a cake from the one place I know will make it but it's a special trip, not a stop along any way I normally travel. I need to blog. Oh wait! I'm doing that now. Yay! I should visit my other online networking groups. Soon, I hope.

My fatigue, however, does not keep me or Bizzy Girl from thinking of ways to get the business to work itself while our children are taking over our lives. Her daughter's schedule is equal or greater than my two put together. We have a current idea that we are discussing and it's not a small step to make if we do it; if we can find the right person to do it with us and we have someone in mind but will he do it?

Now, in other news, Eve from Are We There Yet? graced me with an award almost 2 weeks ago! Finally I am able to mention it and thank her for it. She's cool people. A new friend I made in the webosphere. Here's my award. Cool, right?



Here are the rules:
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great attitude and/or gratitude!
3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5. Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received the award.

My ten won't be easy to compile because honestly, I don't really have time to follow 10! But the few I have - who actually update their blog that is - fit the bill so easily.
1 - YewNorkBabe
2 - LooneyMom
3 - SixUntilMe
4 - Hot Chocolate Caramel Mocha
5 - Nadine Thompson

All of these women are funny and/or engaging and/or inspiring and/or moms or a wonderful mix of some or all of these qualities. It will do your heart good to visit them all if you can find more time than I can to do it.

Break over. Thanks for helping me chill a bit. Back to work.

Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

A Big Dash of This, A Little Dash of That

The Job
It's been another hectic week. Well maybe hectic isn't the best word. I've just been buried at work and trying to get a project done that was first conceived about 4 years ago when I started the job and got serious about a year ago when we finally got the graphic treatment going for it. It's a time line and it starts back to CBE times. Thinks it's easy? Nope. Not when you're trying to get as accurate information as possible and pictures too. And remember we're talking CBE times all the way to the present. Oh and after you've finally knuckled down and gathered all that info, it has to be typed up in a format for the graphic artist. And when that's done you have to read it all, word for word, date for date looking for editorial mistakes. You try to cover about 2,000 years and see if you don't miss a comma or two. So when that's done, you get other eyes on it and they find all kinds of things and ask all kinds of questions. Again, we're trying to make this the best time line out there. There are a lot out there but they are really repetitive and it's clear most people are taking from each other. We were no exception, but the other time lines were just a starting point. I went to the library to add to it. Got intern help to study some things and work in more complete thoughts. And now our new editorial assistant is helping me to find answers to the plethora of questions that rose during the last round of proofing. I am literally 1 unanswered question, 1 addition of a link, 1 addition of a photo, and 2 unanswered questions of my own away from completing this thing and doing the proof that will find all the books titles that need formatting and all the weird character codings or lack of punctuation. That won't be quick either but at least the study of history will be over for now - at least until the public gets a hold of it and starts sending us emails about what they think is wrong or missing. When you work for a company that has a membership base, it's hard not to get a little resentful sometimes at people's comments about how we do things. We think the public must see us as some mighty corporate machine. But if they only knew all the little gerbils on the wheels keeping that mighty thing going. We do A LOT and we care A LOT too but I think only those of us behind the scenes know that. Oh well. I still love my job.

The Book
I have been one page and one more bio away from finishing this proposal. Every day I hope to get it done and every day I'm too tired from work to do it. I come home and do some things for Village Works - not as much as I need to though - and check a zillion emails because of the various groups I am in, trying to quickly delete the unnecessary stuff and the stuff I can always see some other time. I am seriously considering adding an auto message to let folk know I get their email. They just need to give me a moment to respond. I WILL finish the proposal. Maybe today? Well, today I have a meeting to go to with a potential customer. Then a workshop with one of my networking groups. I WILL get it done. Maybe tomorrow?

The Inauguration
I still haven't posted my thoughts about that and I do have a few. The post is started. I'll get it done. But in the meanwhile, I do want to tell you I bought the photo book "Yes We Can" by Scout Tufankjian. Knowing that this photojournalist followed Barack Obama for nearly two years before she knew how great he would be makes this book all the more dynamic. The faces. The tears. I was moved by the election. So-so about the inauguration. This book gave me another perspective and it was powerful. I got it for about $17 on Amazon. It's worth adding this to your cache of Obama memorabilia.

The Son
It's about report card time around here. Son's teacher sent home a sheet that would allow us to sign up for a time to meet but she checked off the box that said there were no issues with Son and she didn't need to see us. Cool. Until we got the actual progress report:

Writing - Should work on elaboration and stronger endings. Focus on developing heart of story.
Science - Good test score. Project not on topic.
Penmanship - Work on connections.
Other - Appears to be uncertain when given direction for assignments or on instruction.

In order to improve he needs to revise and edit work; improve the quality of work; listen attentively; and follow directions.

Was I supposed to NOT be concerned about this? Son had reasons why he didn't understand some things. They each get 1 on 1 time with a teacher who focuses on reading. So he misses class. The project? I must have missed something too when he did it. I know I am always frustrated at home by how much Son doesn't seem to get when he's doing homework and how much work it is to pull things out of him that I know he knows or he would know if he just stopped to think for a minute. Seems she was having that same issue at school. So it's not me being too demanding. Good.

I know what I am always telling Son. She needed to hear his thoughts and we needed to be sure she and I were in agreement about her expectations. We needed to meet. Mr. T and I agreed he was on his DS way too much and it was messing up his ability to concentrate and his teacher said she noticed that as well in this generation of kids. Of course Son didn't agree with any of that but his time got drastically cut during the school nights anyway. He asked for Brain Age and had the money for it so I bought it and he's on that DS playing now. We're going to re-do that project, even if he gets no credit. He asked to be in Little League and I signed him up because he insisted he wanted to do and I can't pass up a chance to get him outside running around of his own free will. I added some extra handwriting work after he's done with his homework and the school has a study website to help them get ready for the testing that's coming up for them soon. He'll be OK.

Well, I can say more but I won't right now. Time to get dressed and ready to go. I have 3 more posts to work on and you can all expect to see those soon. Otherwise this thing would get crazy long, longer than even I do and you know I write tomes on here.

But before you go:
Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

Do You Need to Stick It Out?

Every now and again, I like to share with you the words of one of my favorite life coaches, Valerie Burton. This one is about perseverance and I love it because it confirms for me that sticking with my business makes sense. It also reconfirms that as annoying as marriage can be sometimes, I do have the ability to revel in the things I love about my husband and leave the stupid stuff to God to work out.

So in the words of Valerie:

One of the greatest lessons I've learned is the power of perseverance. And it's the message I'd like to share with you this week.

"In the confrontation between the river and the rock, the river always wins," says a quote I recently read. "Not through strength but through perseverance."

Achieving your vision may not happen in the time frame you'd prefer, but if you prayerfully plan your work and work your plan, you will triumph. Like the rushing water that wears down the rock over time, perseverance is your key to success. Perseverance is a manifestation of faith, and "the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen." Perseverance is fueled by your faith and belief that your vision will eventually come to pass.

January is a time when I receive more questions than usual about how to make changes in one's life. "Why are most people unable to make lasting changes?," a reporter asked me recently. I think it is because most people expect quick results, and when they don't see them, they give up. It is easy for us to give up when we are not clear and specific about the vision, and do not have a compelling reason for achieving it. For example, let's say your goal is to "lose weight," and your reason is so that you can fit into the jeans you wore in college. The goal is unspecific and the reason simply may not be compelling enough. What might be more compelling? You might say instead, "I want to lose 25 pounds over the next six months so that I no longer feel self-conscious about how I look, which keeps me from being confident in my everyday interactions." Perhaps your vision is to take your business or career to the next level and double or triple your income. It's an exciting goal, but without a compelling purpose, even money will not give you the fuel to persevere to the finish line. To persevere, you need to be driven by a purpose and the values that matter most to you. For example, you might say, "I want to double or triple my income so that I can accumulate money that will lead to financial freedom. With financial freedom, I'll have the flexibility to spend more time with the people who matter most to me, and experience things I've dreamed of my entire life." A compelling purpose will give you the energy to persevere in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

In what area of your life do you need to make a decision to persevere? Perhaps it is in your marriage or with a child who is testing your limits. Perhaps you need to persevere as you pay off the debt that feels like it will never be eliminated. Maybe it is an area of your work, health or spiritual life. If you really want to reach your vision, you can. Trust God, keep making progress, and be patient. Your success will come.

When you feel discouraged, remember these three principles for achieving lasting change:

1. BE CLEAR ABOUT YOUR VISION.
You must know where you are going. "Write the vision and make it plain ..." Habakkuk 2:2 advises. Be specific about what you want. Pray about it, then meditate and listen for direction about your vision in your spirit. Always follow your intuition. It is a divine compass - a gift from God to help you clarify your decisions.

2. HAVE A COMPELLING PURPOSE FOR ACHIEVING YOUR VISION.
It is essential to have pure motives for achieving your vision. Know why you want what you want - and be sure that the purpose is aligned with what truly matters to you. Don't spend your life trying to achieve a vision that is not completely your own. Meeting everyone else's expectations without meeting your own will drain your energy, leaving you empty. You need energy to persevere and energy is derived from passion and purpose. If you're not passionate and purposeful, you need to adjust your vision so that it is aligned with your passion and purpose in life.

3. PERSEVERE UNTIL THE VISION IS FULLY REALIZED.
Lastly, and most importantly, keep moving forward! "Never, never, never give up," Winston Churchill famously said in a 1941 speech. Sounds simple, but it works. If you stick with it long enough, the vision will come to fruition. You will make mistakes along the way, so learn from them. You will not do it perfectly, so give yourself permission to be human. But when you leave yourself with no other option but success, you will likely achieve it. Giving birth can be painful, but as mothers everywhere will attest, the temporary pain is worth the precious gift. Giving birth to your vision is the same way.

Whatever you are attempting to create in your life right now, plan your work, then work your plan until you get what you are expecting.

I have found that the greatest benefit of persevering is the person you become in the process. You learn lessons you would not otherwise have learned. You develop higher levels of faith and discipline. And you experience a higher level of satisfaction when you finally accomplish the vision. The process of perseverance isn't always pleasant, but it is often necessary to fulfill your potential and enjoy the richest rewards life has to offer.

Keeping Up With Obama

I've got another post going about this inauguration stuff but I'm not done with it yet. First, I don't know about you, but I will be following our new president with great interest. Agree with him or not, I believe, thus far, that he is going to do the very best he thinks he should do. So I'll give that a try and wait to see how things work out.

If you want to follow him too, here are some options!

1 - Did you know he's on Twitter? Of course he may not be tweeting himself anymore - maybe he never was - but if you are on Twitter and want to follow, he is here: http://twitter.com/barackobama.

2 - Just saw there was a radio address from him and plans for a weekly one. Here's the first: http://www.whitehouse.gov/. FYI, there's a blog there too.

3 - Need all Obama, all the time? Well, others do too. This is one thing I found out there from newsbusters.org:

Do you need Obama coverage 24 hours a day? In several markets, Comcast cable is launching an all-Obama, On Demand channel. (In D.C., it's channel 963).

My guess is your local cable/satellite might have something like that too.

4 - Want to have your say in what Obama should focus on in the White House? Change.gov is where you can find the minutes from meetings Obama had during the transition and now you can voice your opinion about what he should do next. http://citizensbriefingbook.change.gov/.

There's more. I'll find it. Don't you worry. It's just a little something to get you started. Enjoy!

Have you voted for us today in the Start Up Nation Leading Moms in Business 2009 Competition? Check it out here. We'd REALLY appreciate it if you vote and you can do it every day until March 31, 2009 PT. There's even a new meter there now to show you how hot we are! Go ahead. Vote! We wanna be hot, hot, hot! Thanks for your support!

From the Shirts of Babes

My nephew says it all:



Happy Inauguration Day!