It is September 1st.

Why is this such an important date?

I made a promise that I would start blogging again today.

I promised my friend that I would start writing again.

And like most things in my life, as perhaps in yours, this is unexpected. Yesterday this promise loomed over my head like Hurricane Irene did last weekend.

I was scared of opening up WordPress and facing a blank NEW POST screen and not having anything to write.

Here’s why…

For many months that my blog has been deactivated I found myself unable to find the words to write what I felt inside, to say what my heart wanted to say and couldn’t. I haven’t been able to design anything lately for the same reason. I see the colors, I see the textures. But I don’t feel the fire within me. I felt uncreative. I felt lost. For the first four months I told myself and others that “I’m revamping my blog and it’s taking a lot longer than I thought it would.”

Not the truth.

Slightly the truth. But not the whole truth…

(my blog is in a constant state of being revamped)

And this morning the unexpected happened…

I found my words.

In the most unexpected place….

After I took Sam to school today, his fourth day of 1st grade, Henry asked me to ride through our “city.”

Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar with where we live in rural Central Pennsylvania, small towns for my kids are “cities.”

So we drove into town, Betty in her copilot seat all ready for an adventure, me at the wheel with my morning cup of coffee in a Daytona Speedway plastic cup because I am stubborn and won’t pay $9.99 for a plastic cup that looks like it is a coffee cup from Starbucks with fake cardboard around it.

And what an adventure…

What an unexpected adventure…

Me in my pajamas and pink flip flops (yes, I’m one of THOSE moms that drops my kid off in pjs with coffee in hand. But don’t worry, I usually don’t get out of the van).

Henry in totally mismatched clothes, with two different socks on and two different crocs on each foot. In fact, I think he had two right foot crocs on today…

We drove into town. We came to a red light at a corner of the ONE lonely traffic light in town. Henry saw a bridge he had never seen on the left down a few blocks. Of course I had seen it, even crossed it–it takes us over to the Isle of Que.

And so our adventure began….

Me on the banks and in the water of the Susquehanna River snapping pics with my iPhone (my pink flip flops are now muddy and stinky and in the garbage). I rolled up my pajama bottoms to the knee and waded into the river to get those “perfect” shots that are so unexpected and so thrilling. And if you know me? You know I hate dirty stinky water with dirty stinky things swimming around in it that I cannot see. And that my pajamas are a big old tshirt, pajama bottoms and a fuzzy orange sweater.

What took me into the river to make a spectacle of myself?

It was the fog on the river and the way the sun hit the fog, the train trestle bridges, the trees, the abandoned kayaks and canoes, the rocks, the trees, the grass…

It was the peacefulness of a river too shallow for big boats and ships…

The quiet of an empty river…

A beautiful sky…

A presence that I can only describe as purposeful.

The lesson I learned today was that I must learn to delight in the unexpected, relish in it perhaps.

Like I did today…

Laughing with my son and not caring when people jogging and going past on bikes and in cars honked and gave us a thumbs up and a chuckle as they saw us, the crazy mommy up to her knees in the river with just an iPhone and her son skipping rocks and laughing at his mommy. My little Betty in her Tiffany dog sweater that I made getting filthy dirty and having a blast watching the little ripples of water come up to her precious toes and running away like the sissy dog she can be most days…

Expecting the unexpected….

Can be a good thing.

Can be a difficult thing.

Can be invigorating.

Can be frustrating.

Can be scary.

Can be joyful.

Can be unbelievably motivating.

So my little adventure, where I met the unexpected by simply riding into my “city,” gave me the joy of finding something to write about and keep my promise. It gave me hope that yes, there is still a writer inside of me that has something to say. It gave me peace in knowing that I am not without a voice and without a creative mind like I was so convinced I was these past six months.

And I’m thankful…

Yesterday while redecorating all the ornaments Henry had undecorated several times, he came upon my “OLD” iPod and “OLD white speaker system” collecting dust on my table in the corner. By old I mean OLD. First generation iPod. First generation Belkin speakers. He asked why I never turn it on. Good question!

So I plugged it in, turned it on.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Why do I say “Wow” three times?

Because sometimes something old is better if not as good as something new…

Sometimes NEW doesn’t mean better…

Yes, the iPod is OLD. The speakers are OLD. But that white speaker set far surpasses my NEWER up to date speaker system from Altec on top of my fridge. The one that won’t work with my OLD iPod. The one that won’t charge my NEWER iPhone/iPod ever since I updated to the latest iPhone software. The one with terrible sound quality and interference. The one that falls off the fridge because I have too many boxes of cereal on top of the fridge. The one that doesn’t play loud enough to dance in the kitchen with my boys the way I used to with the OLD speakers.

Sometimes NEW isn’t better.

Sometimes NEW isn’t the best.

Sometimes NEW isn’t necessary.

So last night, when once again I couldn’t sleep, I began thinking about all the NEW things I would love to have in my stocking this Christmas. And I realized that all these wished for NEW gadgets and toys may not be better than what I already own. Certain things in life never grow old. There are some gadgets that never lose their magic and cannot be replaced.

Sometimes OLD is better than NEW…

So, as you make that list for Santa and go shopping to snag the latest gadget or updated piece of technology, think about it…just because it is NEW is it better?

Today we are listening to all the OLD holiday CDs I had downloaded years ago onto my OLD iPod. And of course, we’re listening via my OLD Belkin speaker system. Later? We’ll take it to the kitchen and dance.

Join me…find something old and rediscover it!

It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity. ~Albert Einstein

If it keeps up, man will atrophy all his limbs but the push-button finger. ~Frank Lloyd Wright

Technology… the knack of so arranging the world that we don’t have to experience it. ~Max Frisch

Technology… is a queer thing. It brings you great gifts with one hand, and it stabs you in the back with the other. ~C.P. Snow, New York Times, 15 March 1971

The production of too many useful things results in too many useless people. ~Karl Marx

Where there is the necessary technical skill to move mountains, there is no need for the faith that moves mountains. ~Eric Hoffer

“Mommy, I want to tell you something” is a phrase my son, Henry, has adopted lately.

He wants to tell me something every 10 minutes.

EVERY ten minutes. EVERY day. All day.

In the middle of the night…tap tap tap on my arm (these are almost always the body part somethings)…“Mommy, I want to tell you something…”

In the middle of dinner (at least 10 times)…“Mommy, I want to tell you something…”

In the bathtub (these are the scary somethings)…“Mommy, I want to tell you something…”

In the car (his most thought provoking somethings are said in the car)…“Mommy, I want to tell you something…”

Watching tv (most often involves some kind of Scooby Doo, Tom & Jerry or car something)…“Mommy, I want to tell you something…”

To be honest, sometimes this gets a little tiring. Especially when “Mommy, I want to tell you something” is yelled very loudly at the most inappropriate times (when I am in the shower, using the bathroom, cooking dinner, on the phone, etc.). When that happens? I want to tell him something…

But I refrain. And I count to ten. Or twenty. Sometimes even 100.

I do a lot of counting.

Even if it is something little he wants to tell me? I want to hear it.

If it is something big–like when he told me he pooped on the ground like a dog and it was weird–I want to hear it.

It is all the “somethings” that make me love him and make him my precious little boy.

Even when I’ve counted as high as I can count to remember that each “something” IS something.

How about you? When the “somethings” are being broadcast, are you listening? Or do you tune out?

I want to know….

So tell me something…

It is still my birthday so I still have time to create my list of 44 things I am happy about on this day I actually turn 20 (who me? yes, I’m 20 not 44):

1. Pumpkin Spice Lattes
2. Prantls Bakery
3. Burnt Almond Tortes from Prantls Bakery
4. Rainbow Daisies saying good morning to me
5. A spongebob birthday card from my boys that made me laugh
6. New friends–you know who you are
7. Going Mac and loving it (and having a pink cover on it too)
8. Netflix–when it isn’t “retrieving”
9. Boomerang channel–I love watching all the cartoons I watched as a kid with my kids (Jetsons, Scooby Doo, Flintstones, Huckleberry, etc.)
10. CWC Milton
11. Relevance
12. The church bowling team (made me laugh on a night this year that I really needed to laugh; sorry I didn’t bowl in the right lane)
13. Modern Family
14. Yankee Magazine
15. My niece going off to college and playing LaCrosse
16. My golf clubs
17. Driving ranges near church and school
18. Dana’s cookies (I ate too many but boy were they good)
19. Betty Dog
20. Migraine medicine
21. The funny baby on the HP printer commercial
22. Adobe Creative Suite CS5
23. WordPress
24. My camera
25. The third row in the left side of the bleachers at church (we rock)
26. Dunkin Donuts (keeps me runnin)
27. Jeans that actually fit and make me not look like a frumpy muffin mom (Trish lol)
28. Road trips with new friends that feel like friends you’ve known forever
29. Masterpiece Theater
30. Cherry Alley Cafe
31. Bucknell Bookstore (finally a good bookstore where I can get lost)
32. My iPhone
33. Angry Birds
34. Oswald Chambers
35. Rescue Me (after the Sopranos I thought there was no more good tv)
36. Stylin doggie clothes for Betty–I finally have a girl to dress up
37. Coastal Living Magazine–helps me keep dreaming up ways to spend all the lottery money I’m gonna win someday
38. Method laundry detergent–it smells divine
39. Red Sox even though they didn’t have a good season
40. The Yankees NOT being in the world series
41. Trader Joes Roasted Corn–best frozen food item ever created
42. A clean van inside and out–no french fries under the seats, no ice cream splatters on the seats…you get it
43. Color Wonder markers. I love you.
44. Booklights–when Henry doesn’t steal them and break them or hide them

Next year when I turn 21, I’ll have a great list of 45 things I’m happy about….

This morning as I drove Henry to preschool, we had the most amazing conversation.

It went something like this…

Henry: Mommy, why do some trees have leaves and some don’t right now?

Me: It’s fall, the leaves are falling.

Henry: But Mommy why are they falling?

Me: Because they are dead.

Henry: But if they are dead, why are they so pretty?

Me: Because when they fall off the branches they lose their source of life. And they die.

Henry: Mommy, I think leaves turn such pretty colors to say goodbye to us when they die.

Henry is my child who sometimes makes such profound statements and shares such poetic thoughts that I am often left speechless. Today was one of those days.

So I dropped him off at preschool and drove to the coffee shop where I sit and look at the swans and Elk and have a great view of trees whose “leaves are saying goodbye.” But I couldn’t stop thinking about his take on Fall. And I had tears in my eyes. Why? Because saying goodbye in death or life is hard. And saying goodbye in vivid color would make it so much easier.

Right now in my life I find myself saying goodbye a lot. And it hasn’t been colorful. It’s been dreary and dark and sad. Even though goodbyes in life are necessary and in death unavoidable, wouldn’t it be great if we could just always say goodbye in vivid color?

I think so.

For those times that saying goodbye is nasty and ugly and full of emotion and regret, color would make things so much easier. At least that’s how I see it.

Color is happy…

Color is life…

Color is fresh…

Color is uplifting…

Color is deep and unending. You can mix colors forever and keep coming up with new colors…

Color is the best way to say goodbye and perhaps the most generous way to say hello…

Until this morning saying goodbye in death and life was colored black for me. Tonight I go to bed knowing it doesn’t have to be that way.

The goodbyes I’ve said lately and will say in the days, months and years to come? They will be like those pretty leaves my son noticed today.

My goodbyes will be in vivid color.

So you better wear sunglasses…

Did you ever have a week when everything just blows up in your face?

Did you ever have an action that you took come back to say hello in a very angry way?

I had that experience this week.

And I’m still thinking about it….

Since I was little my parents always taught me that there is a right way and a wrong way to do everything. Not a right way or a left way. Just a right way. Meaning doing what is right for myself and others, and doing what is right in terms of God. Politics was never a part of learning to do things the right way. Right was “god centered” and “parent centered” and “me centered” last.

That’s just the way it was. And still is.

We all have our own personal convictions. Some of us have these convictions based on our faith. Some of us have these convictions based on our political views. Some of us find our convictions from other sources.

What’s important, I believe, is that we take our own personal convictions and not force them upon others. Because not everyone we know shares our convictions with the same conviction that we do.

Now, I’m not going to share my list of convictions here on my blog. They are personal. They are too long to list even if I felt I should post them here. And they change. Because I’m not perfect and I’m always finding flaws in my perspective. Of religion. Of politics. Of life.

Yesterday a very poignant message was shared in my church. We’ve been studying biblical principals and how to live according to them in our everyday lives. Aside from helping me understand the differences between “convictions” and “principals,” I learned this:

“It’s wrong to stand for something right in the wrong way. Stand for something right in the right way.”

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Do I do that every day? Do my words speak to the right issues for the right reasons at the right time? Do I stand in the right way for God, for others and for me? Do I?

I don’t know.

But I do know that I need to hold my tongue, guard my actions and seriously consider “why” I’m saying or doing something before I do it. I need to ask myself if commenting on something controversial is standing for the right in the right way. Sometimes standing in the right way is saying nothing, doing nothing or simply not going down that road.

I need to learn how to do that. I need how to stand for something right in the right way.

Join me?

“Faith is reason grown courageous” ~Sherwood Eddy

“All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone tried to tell me what it was. I accepted their answers too, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory. I was naïve. I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which I, and only I, could answer. It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realization everyone else appears to have been born with: that I am nobody but myself.” ~Ralph Ellison, “Battle Royal”

“We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.” ~François Duc de La Rochefoucauld

“The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere.” ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

“If you are ashamed to stand by your colors, you had better seek another flag.” ~Author Unknown

‘Human beings are perhaps never more frightening than when they are convinced beyond doubt that they are right.’ ~Laurens van der Post

Today I am thinking about prayer.

How to pray. What to pray. When to pray.

Because sometimes I think I pray and no one but me hears it.

Ever feel that way?

So many times we say “I will say a prayer” or “I’ll pray for you” as a means to comfort someone who is sick or struggling. But do we do it? Do we pray as we say we will? Or is it just the “right” thing to say at the time. The easiest thing to say perhaps?

I’m not sure. That’s why I’m thinking about prayer today.

Specifically, here is what I’m thinking about prayer:

What does it take to get it right, to pray and have that prayer answered?

Is not answering our prayer sometimes “the answer?”

And I could go on with the list of mysteries surrounding the mystery of prayer…

At bible study last night we were talking about prayer and I had been praying a lot this week for several things in my life and the lives of those close to me. In one case I know my prayer was heard. I just didn’t like the answer. I didn’t like what God did in my life as a result of my prayer. And I was mad. I was bitter mad. And it showed in my face and my voice and my attitude that day. How could an answer to prayer leave me worse off than I was before I said the prayer? I was seriously discouraged with God and prayer.

“If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.” Matthew 21:22

I read that scripture multiple times this week and each time I ended up shaking my head in frustration with God for not answering my prayers or answering them the way I wanted them answered.

But then I got in a room of women talking about prayer and the unknowns that they all had about prayer and it started to make sense.

And I realized that sometimes we simply miss the answer to our prayers. We move on and don’t see that God did answer our prayers or he answered them after we had stopped waiting for the answer.

Waiting for the answer. Sometimes I feel like that is all I do.

Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. (you get it)

In the Lord’s Prayer the statement “Thy Will Be Done” is so powerful. I never really thought about it until the leader of our bible study, Carole Hamm, started talking about it. Such a weighted statement, isn’t it? I see that statement so differently today than I did yesterday. Today “Thy Will Be Done” is like letting go of my prayer and not waiting–not hoping–after I said it that it will be answered. It is letting go of it completely and turning it over to God to answer in His way, in His time.

Because it isn’t all about “my will” afterall, is it? It isn’t all about me.

So today I will pray again. I will pray specifically as I’ve been taught. I will pray and let it go.

Join me?

Today I am going to start cleaning house.

Mom if you are reading this you read that right and it isn’t your eyes seeing something that will make you fall off the chair.

I am going to start cleaning house.

And not stop until I’m done.

Cleaning house, to me, is more than just mopping floors (an activity I do just about every day), cleaning toilets, sinks, tubs, and doing laundry, vacuuming and dishes. Cleaning house is going from room to room with a huge lawn size garbage bag and tossing all the crap that is collecting dust and making my house look like the house in the Samson & Son sitcom…remember that show? They had a junk yard but inside their house was like a junk yard too? Well that is how I feel my house is right now.

So I’m gonna clean house.

And of course I have to blog about it. Because a major chore like cleaning house, getting rid of unwanted toys, books, magazines, etc. always makes me feel the need to clean house in my personal life, too.

House, Body and Soul are getting a good cleaning starting today.

Sitting here, blogging away in my living room I can already spot the pile I will attack first:

The magazine stack that is as high as the table the magazines are on. I save everything. I hate to throw away anything. So I won’t throw these magazines away. I will give them to the doctor’s office down the street. Or the library. Or the school to cut up for projects.

Finding a way to make my clutter useful for someone else? Makes the chore easier. Really. It does.

This makes me think if there is a way to take the clutter of our thoughts, feelings and attitudes and use them for the better good….hmmmm, well that would be a good thing.

Can my stubborn attitude somehow help someone who is ready to give up?

Can my “let’s have a pity party and feel sorry for myself on a daily basis” habit translate to something positive? something good?

Can my quick to anger, quick to feel let down personality be at all helpful to someone else?

I’m not sure. But as I clean house today, tomorrow and all the days to come until the job is done, I will think about all the ways I can take that which is cluttering up my life–anger, sadness, impatience, stubbornness, self pity, and more–and turn them around to become something positive.

Join me?

But I’m almost out of large lawn size garbage bags so you’ll have to provide your own….

My head is full of random thoughts. You know, the kind of thoughts that zoom around in your head making you get dizzy with anticipation or apprehension or anxiety or excitement or reality of a situation, event or person.

I may be in the middle of folding my laundry and a million questions will just pop into my head and drive me nuts. Ever have that happen?

Well, these are just some of the random thoughts I had today about Sam starting Kindergarten while we were at the marina riding bikes this morning….

Will he be able to unzip and unbutton his jeans and then button them and zip them himself when going potty?

Will he find a new best buddy as fun as the best buddies he had at preschool?

The first day of school, when his hand leaves mine and he goes inside, will he be nervous? will he know where he is going? will I break down on the sidewalk? will I run after him and not want to let go?

Who is going to open his milk for him? his yogurt? who is going to help him navigate the lunch line?

Will he even eat his lunch? will he throw it away?

Will all the kids laugh at him because his classroom folder is a Corvette folder and not a Toy Story, Transformers or Spider Man folder? Is it strange that he only likes things that look and are “real” versus cartoons or obviously unrealistic toys?

Will he stare out the window that he sits in front of and yell out all the different types of cars and models as they drive by? is he the only one who knows car model names and numbers?

Will he remember that he can count to 100, knows all his ABC’s and can write his name? Or will he only remember how to draw a truck?

Will he remember that red and blue make purple? red and green make brown? yellow and red make orange?

Will he fold his hands when sits down to lunch and wait for someone to say grace? If he says it himself with everyone laugh?

Will he pull down his pants or shorts and show everyone his brand new Jeff Gordon #24 underwear? (please God, no)

Will he pick his nose?

Will he miss me?

Random thoughts. I think sometimes I think too much.

I have noticed that for me it is the random questions that I ask myself that either make me feel better because I am processing things in my head or get me into trouble because I am thinking about something way too much.

How about you? How do you process random thoughts about important things happening in your life?

Last night we went to visit Sam’s new school. He starts Kindergarten next week.

A new journey…

Today my niece moved into her dorm at college.

A new journey…

This week we realized my other dog, Ernie, the “Last Dog Standing” is dying. Soon we will be a house and family without dogs.

A new journey…

So today guess what I’m thinking about?

New Journeys.

Sometimes the road we set out on, the journey we seek, is planned and safe and comfortable and exciting and full of expectation and dreams. Other journeys are kind of just part of the plan whether we want to take them or not. Kind of like “first days” of Kindergarten and going off to college. It’s in the cards whether we want these journeys to happen or not. And then some journeys are planned and yet exciting and full of mixed emotions.

Kindergarten is kind of like that for me. I’ve known Sam is going to Kindergarten since the day he was born.

I just didn’t think it would get here so fast.

My niece going off to college is like that for me, too.

I’ve known my niece was going off to college since she started high school and started sharing her interests in various schools.

I just didn’t think it would get here so fast.

So tonight I sit here, blogging away my feelings of anxiety, apprehension, excitement and sentimentality about both of these important events in my life and the lives of those I love.

Is my sister ready for my niece to start college?

Are my parents excited or is it bittersweet that they have one grandchild going off to college and at the same time another starting Kindergarten?

I think she is. I think they are. But like me, I am sure they are wondering tonight where the time went. Why did childhood race by so fast? Can we go back?

I don’t think so.

We move forward on these new journeys whether we want to or not. And we carry baggage. We carry old luggage full of memories and new suitcases for all the new experiences, memories and lessons learned along the way to carry us through the next time we come across a similar journey.

New journeys are what I’m thinking about tonight.

New journeys happen every day. Some journeys we just stop and recognize more than others.

Next week my adventures as a mom of a Kindergartener begin. Tonight I am still a mommy of a preschooler.

Some journeys are hard to let go….