My husband and I have really been trying to make sure we teach “life lessons” to our boys. My 10-year-old still doesn’t feel like his shoe-tying skills are up to par and both boys feel that using a knife to cut their food is torture. Still we encourage them to keep trying.

Last night big brother asked what he could have for a snack before getting ready for bed. He wanted to hear “help yourself to anything chocolate,” but instead was given the “ok” to eat a slice of bread. Little brother wanted one too. So he cut them both a piece which left little brother in tears. Why? Big brother’s bread-slicing skills still have much to be desired. He cut a wedge from the loaf for himself and then a broken-up slice for his brother. Little brother got the worst of the two hacked-up pieces.

Instead of freaking out at the senseless murder of my freshly baked bread, I clued in big brother on an important life-lesson: When getting a piece for you and someone else, you always give them first pick, or the better of the two. That tends to lead to less crying.

Fast forward to this morning. Little brother woke up late and wasn’t ready for breakfast yet by the time I needed to take big brother to school. He opted to stay home and watch cartoons. When I returned the house smelled like toast.

“Did you make some toast, honey?”

“Yep.  Cinnamon-sugar toast.”

Oh dear. I am proud that he took the initiative and made his own breakfast, and count myself lucky that he didn’t burn anything or cut himself with the bread knife, but now I must take a moment to mourn the senseless killing of bread loaf #2.

1. If you choose to wear shirts that show off your boobs, you will attract boys. To be more specific, you will attract the kind of boys that like to look down girls’ shirts. If you want to date a guy who likes to look at other girls’ boobs and chase skirts, then great job; keep it up. If you don’t want to date a guy who ogles at the breasts of other women, then maybe you should stop offering your own breasts up for the ogling. All attention is not equal. You think you want attention, but you don’t. You want respect. All attention is not equal.

2. Don’t go to the tanning bed. You’ll thank me when you go to your high school reunion and you look like you’ve been airbrushed and then photoshopped compared to the tanning bed train wrecks formerly known as classmates – well, at least next to the ones that haven’t died from skin cancer.

3. When you talk about your friends “anonymously” on Facebook, we know exactly who you’re talking about. People are smarter than you think they are. Stop posting passive-aggressive statuses about the myriad of ways your friends disappoint you.

4. Newsflash: the number of times you say “I hate drama” is a pretty good indicator of how much you love drama. Non-dramatic people don’t feel the need to discuss all the drama they didn’t start and aren’t involved in.

5. “Follow your heart” is probably the worst advice ever.

6. Never let a man make you feel weak or inferior because you are an emotional being. Emotion is good; it is nothing to be ashamed of. Emotion makes us better – so long as it remains in it’s proper place: subject to truth and reason.

7. Smoking is not cool.

8. Stop saying things like, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.” First of all, that’s not true. And second of all, if it is true, you need a perspective shift. Your reputation matters – greatly. You should care what people think of you.

9. Don’t play coy or stupid or helpless to get attention. Don’t pretend something is too heavy so that a boy will carry it for you. Don’t play dumb to stroke someone’s ego. Don’t bat your eyelashes in exchange for attention and expect to be taken seriously, ever. You can’t have it both ways. Either you show the world that you have a brain and passions and skills, or you don’t. There are no damsels in distress managing corporations, running countries, or managing households. The minute you start batting eyelashes, eyelashes is all you’ve got.

10. You are beautiful. You are enough. The world we live in is twisted and broken and for your entire life you will be subjected to all kinds of lies that tell you that you are not enough. You are not thin enough. You are not tan enough. You are not smooth, soft, shiny, firm, tight, fit, silky, blonde, hairless enough. Your teeth are not white enough. Your legs are not long enough. Your clothes are not stylish enough. You are not educated enough. You don’t have enough experience. You are not creative enough.

There is a beauty industry, a fashion industry, a television industry, (and most unfortunately) a pornography industry: and all of these have unique ways of communicating to bright young women: you are not beautiful, sexy, smart or valuable enough.

You must have the clarity and common sense to know that none of that is true. None of it.

You were created for a purpose, exactly so. You have innate value. You are loved more than you could ever comprehend; it is mind-boggling how much you are adored. There has never been, and there will never be another you. Therefore, you have unique thoughts to offer the world. They are only yours, and we all lose out if you are too fearful to share them.

You are beautiful. You are valuable. You are enough.

My high school had a class called Reading, Writing, and Running in which the English teacher would take the students out for a 15 minute jog before coming back to class and working on the reading and writing portions. He believed that exercise helps stimulate your brain and helps the students focus and learn. That was 20 years ago.

Two years ago there was an article in ABC News in which they “discovered” that research being conducted in schools like that of Naperville, Illinois, show exercise actually improves students’ overall grades. Reading comprehension went way up and even math scores were up 21%.

Now I’m not going to tell you all to get out there and start running ten miles a day with a grin on your face the whole way. I never liked running. I was in track but only for the throwing events. I only lettered in discus because my coach made me angry and I aimed for his head out there in the distance when I chucked that disc. Luckily they don’t fly as far or as fast as a frisbee and he knew it was coming. But we’ll talk about my temper another day.

I began teaching myself how to run about fifteen years ago while living in Florida. I started off walking, then after about ten minutes I would jog for a minute or two. I had to keep telling myself, “This is not a race. The point is to keep a steady pace. We’ll work on speeding it up later.” Gradually I was able to jog for fifteen minutes without stopping, and then thirty. Two years ago I finished a half marathon.

I feel like writing my book right now is just like pushing through the last few miles of that half marathon. I tell myself, “Only a little farther left to go! If I slow down I might not be able to push to the end. Keep moving. I can do this.” Sometimes it takes that ‘self talk’ to get us to finish a project. Maybe we all could use a little exercise before we sit down and start writing to stimulate those brain cells. Whatever you decide, let me root for you here on the sidelines. Keep going! You can do this! You may have just begun or you may be on the final stretch. Whatever the case, it’s going to feel so good when you’re done.

Last week a friend of mine e-mailed me asking if I would send her some memories I have of her brother, Brian. They are going to celebrate his 40th birthday this year and she is putting together a presentation for the family. Here is what I sent her:

I still think about Brian all the time. First of all, he was a flirt. But he was genuine too. Not one of those guys that strings girls along. I loved every bit of attention he ever gave me. We had choir together in school and he would sit next to me when I was playing piano and joke about how it was called a Kawasaki just like a motorcycle. He’d say things like, “Careful! It’s likely to drive off!”  He drove me home a few times in his old beat-up truck and would always have this ridiculous song playing that he loved so much. Something like “Buttermilk biscuits, free today!” It was a rap by Sir Mix-a-lot.

He always complemented me on my hair, often playing with it at church activities, and he was always there asking people if they were okay if they seemed troubled. He was also terribly handsome. Gorgeous! Such a winning smile! I never felt like I deserved to be with a guy like that.

I was looking at my high school yearbook a few years back and realized he had signed it with something to the effect of, “Kami, we should get together this summer and hang out! Call me:” and he had written his phone number down. I was practically screaming, “Why didn’t I ever notice that! I TOTALLY would have called him!” I had such a crush on him. All the girls did. While trying to convey the severity of my regret to my husband and his co-worker, Kevin, I was only returned with weird looks. Kevin Jolley teased that I was making him uncomfortable. They just didn’t understand.

I went to a party once where all of the girls were flirting mercilessly with Brian. He just stood there smiling, enjoying the attention, and remained sweet, genuine, and unaffected by it. At some point he and I ended up alone together in a room and instead of taking advantage of that or making things awkward, he grinned, threw his arm around my shoulders and said, “C’mon. Let’s head upstairs and see what’s going on.” I felt like I could trust him completely to always be a gentleman.

Brian was great at sports and at making friends. I don’t think he ever had any enemies. He lived a clean life and remained stalwart and good but he knew how to have fun and laugh with his friends. He was a big fan of telling jokes. He and Kenny Volmer were practically inseparable and fed off each other’s energy. It seemed fitting that they died together.

The day I got the news of the accident I was in my bedroom getting ready to go out with my best friend. She came to my door and my father followed close behind. They looked at me with such intensity that I knew something bad was coming. I’m glad my dad told me to sit down because as soon as the words left his mouth that Brian and Kenny had been in a fatal car accident…the earth beneath me felt like it gave way and I was spinning. I’ve never before or since felt anything like that. Such shock. It took a few minutes to wait for the nausea to subside and to catch my breath. I cried for the next few hours and for most of the following week.

That funeral was the largest by far I have ever seen. The entire city was trying to stuff itself into that poor church building. I was glad I didn’t have to sing in front of everyone. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I couldn’t imagine the pain and loss his family was feeling. It had to be worse than mine and I hurt so much.

I miss him. I am so sad that I won’t get to see him grow up, get married, have kids, be a further influence for good in this life. The world suffered a huge loss with his passing. Don’t get me wrong. He was human and probably had flaws but I don’t think I ever knew a more kind and decent human being.

Yes, I miss him. But what a fabulous reunion we will all have when we pass on into the next life and see him and all of our other friends again. That’s what I look forward to. I hope he’s one of the first few to greet me at the gates of heaven. I expect he’ll throw his arm around me again and say, “C’mon, let’s head upstairs and see what’s going on.”

You have been working awfully hard at fitness and weight loss. You have trained your body to love healthy foods. The scale has been rather agreeable even. You are down four pounds despite the pizza you tried to feed me two days ago. I hope you received my note loud and clear in the way of that colossal stomach ache for the next four hours. Don’t try that again.

I know that it’s birthday time, but…you can no longer ingest chocolate cake and/or ice cream. Stop it right now. I know you felt sick the first time as well as the second time. Not a very quick learner, are you?  You are only undoing all of the hard work you put in on the treadmill. The scale is threatening to strike. Get a grip.

Sincerely,

Your stomach, heart, and thighs.

I decided to change my theme today! Do you like it? It’s all Wil Wheaton’s fault really. I wanted to add his “demand it” widget to my page and it was too wide for my side-bar. But there were other aspects about it that I didn’t like. I thought the type was a little too small – making reading my blog a little daunting. There were so many I liked, that the decision was hard.

Any-hoo…the kids are back in school today after a WEEK AT HOME, thank you very much! We were buried in snow for 3 days and then over the weekend the city was able to clear the roads. I was a little worried last night as the snow came down again…hard…and was sticking to the road…that we were going to get another 6am call saying school would be delayed or cancelled again. But the sun? It’s shining! Oh yes! Not a cloud in the sky. So hopefully some of this white stuff will MELT OFF already! My youngest is spending his morning making a new wii character. So far it’s a short, fat old man with women’s red lips. I wonder what he’ll name it this time. His last few have been things like “cheese” and “moomeemaw.” Now the old man/woman has horns. Two hours ’till kindergarten time! (Or mommy time.)

Have a great week!

2. Argue over which of two movies to watch first. If yours wasn’t chosen, complain the whole way through in order to prove to the others that your movie would have been the better choice.

3. Stay up until at least 11:00 telling each other silly stories and giggling.

4. Wake up no later than 7:00am and make sure to slam all doors as well as shouting your excitement to let the rest of the household know you are in fact awake and ready for breakfast.

5. Try to sneak out some cookies before breakfast is served.

6. Ask for doughnuts an hour after breakfast was served.

7. Get all five light sabres, pass them around, and swing them around recklessly mere inches from the big screen T.V. when your movie has any meaningful dialogue. The actors may take it as a threat and get back to the action quicker that way.

8. Forage for more snacks and pop.

9. Go see a cheap movie with your friends and their parents, hoping for more popcorn and soda.

10. Finally say goodbye. The size of your stomach ache will be the measure of how much fun you’ve had.

On a different note, I read through the “Hunger Games” books in 2 weeks and really liked them. I still wish that the ending hadn’t been as quick to wrap up. I would have liked to have seen more detail in the resolution – especially between the two characters who end up together. (Trying not to spoil it for those who haven’t read it yet.) But overall I really loved the premise and how well the writer described the battles. They kept my interest and since I have my own battles to write, it’s nice to see how well they can be written without so much detail. I definitely got sucked into the story and didn’t worry about the technical part of it at all.

Read any good books lately?

One of these people is NOT having a good time.

First we went on the train ride to show the kids how big Disneyland was.  Then we hopped off at the Haunted Mansion and rode through.  Awesome.  Next up was the Pirates of the Carribbean.  Mild waterfalls and lots of cool stuff to see.  Awesome.  Then we ran around Tom Sawyer’s Island for a little while and headed over to Splash Mountain because there was virtually no line.  Awesome.

There’s quite the drop (in the dark no less) mid-ride that took us all by surprise and while we were recovering I leaned over to the little man and said, “You want me to hold onto you when we go down the big drop?”  He shouted, “YES!” so I grabbed onto him tight.  As we climbed the hill my 9-year-old is in the front shouting, “I don’t want to go down it!  I don’t want to!  NO!” while daddy was explaining there was no alternative and that he’d be fine.  He grabbed ahold of him and I leaned forward to say, “Here we go!”  I braced myself for the big drop by shutting my eyes.  You can tell how each one of us was having a good time despite the fear.  Well all of us except for the nine-year-old in the front.  I don’t see anything but sheer terror on that poor child’s face.  Not awesome.

He was traumatized from that time forth and wouldn’t leave my side because he knew that there were certain rides I wouldn’t go on due to the nausea factor (I’m talking to you, Space Mountain.)  Every time I see this photo it makes me laugh out loud so I’m going to share it with all the world here.  What an adventure!

His wife got a bowl of ice-water for him to soak his hands in while I stood behind him and lightly rubbed his back until the shock wore off. She sat in front of him and had him lean forward with his head in her lap so he wouldn’t pass out. When the ice all melted she got up to get more and I took over lap-duty until she returned. After the worst was over they had a little dinner and then drove to the clinic that was open in the evenings and his burns were treated. It was pretty bad 2nd degree burns but he was going to be okay.

Today we were able to look back on that night and laugh. Not because I take delight in the suffering of my brother, but because my brother’s wife (who also works at the same company) was explaining to someone today how she and I are related and her co-worker said, “Oh, that makes so much more sense now.” During the company party she didn’t know we were brother and sister, and instead thought I was being pretty bold in my actions – like I was flirting with him or coming on to him. She couldn’t understand how his wife could stand by and do nothing about it.

The thing is…my brother and I look nothing alike. We might as well be adopted. So I understand the confusion when people are shocked to find out we came from the same parents. But to think that someone thought I was coming on a bit strong…toward my brother… had he and I laughing so hard today, I almost cried!  My sister-in-law teased, “So back off my man!”  and I replied, “Eew!”