Sleepless nights.... tossing... turning... wondering if the creature was going to crawl or stomp on my face.... instead, he was caught red handed. I opened the door to the attic storage to "show" Jarebear Boo what the creature had been doing. I pointed to his destruction while she peered over my shoulder. All of a sudden, before our very eyes, the biggest, humongous rat peeked up over the nativity he was busy preparing for demolition. He had the nerve to wave (well, it appeared to me that he did) and then casually and I really do mean, casually, walked away. The creature was the size of a kitten. Jarebear Boo and I did what came natural. We screamed. LOUD! Needless to say, all 8 of the kids plus J, came running. But, he faded away into the abyss. The creatures that live in our houses and lives sometimes loom quietly, waiting for the right moment to appear. Sometimes, doubt brings out the creature or even disappointment or discontentment. The only way the creature will survive...

There's a creature in the house. I think it is about 3 feet tall, long tail, sharp, maybe bucked teeth with drool sliding down it's chin. The creature doesn't sleep at night but stomps around, chewing wood and steel. The creature believes that he (I think it's a "he") is setting up house for his future "babe" creature and their offspring...lots and lots of them. At 2:00 AM, I couldn't take it anymore. The creature was no longer capable of being ignored. "Hey, Babe!" I whispered. "I think that creature is going to chew it's way into our bedroom." Being the calm, very calm man that J is, he replied, "Honey, it's just a little mouse. He'll stop before long." I forgot about whispering. "It's NOT a little mouse! This thing is huge. I think it's a giant rat or a beaver or maybe even a gremlin." (Yes, my imagination overflows sometimes.) J (bless his heart) gets up and goes into the attic stor...

I was walking hand in hand with Jarebear Boo into the grocery store. She was 8 years old. I told her, "I love holding your hand." She said, "I'll always hold your hand, Mommy, no matter how old I am." My heart melted at that very moment. I knew that one day, she'd hit the age where it just wasn't as "cool" to walk around, holding my hand, but in the meantime, I cherished it. Then, the moment came when we no longer held hands. There was no premeditated warning....it just happened, one day, without notice. My heart moved on, although, never forgetting the joy of what it was like to have a hand to hold. One day, J and I were walking, hand in hand. As we climbed the stairs, I stumbled. Quicker than I could catch myself, J tightened his grip and broke my fall. I found that moment once again. I discovered that holding one's hand is like holding one's heart. He tenderly held mine and still does...when we pray, when we fall asleep at night, wh...

Dear Older Me, I know I’ve got a few more years to go before I’m considered “old” so I’m telling you now, you’re in for the ride of your life. You will NOT grow old without a fight. It’s not that you’re in denial; you’re going to find that there’s way too much life to be lived still. Play lots - video games, dance, paint, play with a yoyo, jump rope while singing the childhood jump rope songs, take in some homeless animals, and LAUGH!!! Create moments…seek moments where laughter is overflowing. Blow milk bubbles (of course, don’t forget to take Lactaid), lie on your back and watch the clouds. Have a picnic with your precious J, romancing and loving ever moment of his touch. (PS…there’s no such thing as being too old for romance). You may not like the word “no” very much but brace yourself. Not every idea will be met with thumbs up, even from your kids. But that’s okay. By then, there will be ankle locators for the elderly so they’ll keep tabs on you wherever you are. Oh, and by the way...

I'm back!! If the puppy can keep his teeth out of the power cords, that is.... I didn't anticipate it...it just happened out of nowhere. In fact, it was just like the commercial where the one person, eating out of a jar of peanut butter passes a person eating a chocolate bar and they collide. "Hey! You got chocolate in my peanut butter!" "You got peanut butter in my chocolate!" Viola! Reese's Peanut Butter cups are a result. My "collision" hasn't been half as delicious or simple. In fact, at times, it is akin to being a cast member on the Twilight Zone. The Who I Used to Be was creative, carefree, ate a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner, watched reruns of old tv shows, painted, played Wii games, sung loud in the shower and slept in late or got up early. The Who I Used to Be, was bold and courageous, not caring what others thought. WIUTB created new recipes, went to the Asian market and bought things because they looked like they might tast...