Six Tips for Work at Home Families, Part II

4) Sticking to a schedule.
I’m not talking “Baby Wise” here or anything, I’m talking about my own schedule. I do not allow myself to schedule anything during predetermined family times. Family night is off limits for work activities. Family meal time is off limits for work activities. My work schedule is my work schedule and my family schedule is my family schedule. My kids know that they are the top priority no matter what, and if they really need something I can get it – regardless of the time of day. However, if mommy is working and they just want me to play a game, or help change the TV channel etc. They know that there will be a break soon, and I will be able to do whatever they would like. I show them respect and attention, and in return, they do the same for me while I’m working. Even the youngest, which is 15 months old, is starting to understand when it’s okay to ask for things, and when you need to wait.
5) Responsibility and manners.
We’ve been very careful to teach our children responsibility and manners. Our kids have a set curfew and bed time. They say please and thank you. Why? It’s been paramount in our family to make sure that there is always a form of respect for others, whether it be for their items, their person, or their feelings. We’ve worked with them from a very young age to know the difference between respectful, and impolite. We don’t talk down to them either. When we ask them to complete a task, we ask, and we say please. Don’t get me wrong, if they say no thank you, we explain to them the importance of doing what they are asked to do by their parents. They’ve sat in time out several combined hours over the past few years, but they understand the lesson and why we behave the way we do. We also treat everyone around us, friends, acquaintances, people we meet randomly on the street, with the same sense of respect that we would anyone else. This shows our kids that we don’t just ask them to do so; we actually live this way too. My kids see me running my business this way; speaking with my clients in this way, treating others the way I ask they treat others. Everything I do and say is an educational experience for my kids.
6) Time out for parents.
This one is very important too. It’s easy to forget that we need to take time for ourselves too. My husband is currently studying for his Masters in Electrical Engineering while working full time as an Engineer. I am currently working full time from home while running a business, raising our children, and caring for our home. We remember often to take time out for our kids, but it’s so easy to forget to take time out for us as well. We make a point of taking a date night once a week for us. If we aren’t relaxed and sure in our role as not only parents, but as a married couple, it’s easy for the household to show signs of tension and stress. As you may have already guessed from all of the text above, you may have already realized that with us, simplicity works just as well as extravagance. Our date nights sometimes (more often than not) consist of putting the kids to bed, popping a bowl of popcorn and watching a movie in our family room. These much needed respites from our daily grind help us to remember what we are really working for, and how important it is that we remain united and happy in our journey together. This is important for single parent households as well. Take time out for yourself. Re-unite yourself with a bubble bath and your favorite book. A well relaxed parent often shows in the faces of their children.
While I know and understand that the above six examples will not work for everyone, I sincerely hope that they’ve inspired you to look into your own family, and find that balance that works for you. Most of all, if you are reading this because you wonder how you will ever be able to manage with all your looming responsibility and still care for your kids – know you are not alone. Today especially, things are difficult financially, physically, and especially emotionally for everyone. As work at home professionals, we face unique challenges every day – but with them come great rewards. I suggest finding a support group of other like- minded individuals who understand the challenges and pressures you face. Hang in there, take time out for you. Here’s to your success.

Six Tips for Work at Home Families, Part I

I often get asked how I manage my job, my home, my business, and my children from day to day. Usually the question is followed by nervous laughter and the phrase, “we just do what we have to do…” but is that really the case? It seems from day to day, more and more people are enthralled with the idea that I actually work from home, approximately 40 hours a week – and I still seem to be raising well adjusted, normal and above all – polite – children.
I’ve decided I needed to dig into what we are doing differently than most other work at home families. How is it that we are still able to manage from day to day? I have come up with the following six reasons that I think contribute strongly to our family’s success.
1) Take a time out.
There are always going to be pressing deadlines at work, emails that need to be sent, and phone calls that need to be made. Our children are not going to be children forever. One cardinal rule at our house is that no matter what is going on – regardless of the deadlines or emails waiting for me – I always take at least one hour a day and dedicate it to my children. I know this doesn’t sound like much, but when you figure that I have three kids at home, all three who nap for approximately 3 hours (which is time I use to take care of those pressing business issues) taking one hour away from what I am doing to do what (and this is key) they want to do – really is not a large sacrifice. The emails will still be there when I get back, and the deadline will still be pressing – but my kids are happy, and they’ve had some time with their mom.
2) Enjoy one meal a day together as a family.
I have extremely active children. With one on a swim team, one in soccer, one in T-ball, two in dance and one taking piano lessons, our calendar is extremely full. There are days sometimes that we are running out the door with a granola bar in one hand and a juice box in the other on the way to the next event. However – we always make it a point to have one meal together as a family. It doesn’t have to be anything too spectacular – I’m not running a five star restaurant here – sometimes it’s Pizza from Little Caesars’. But, we always take time to eat together as a family. This is time where we are able to hear from our kids about their day at school, listen to the latest about Susie or Sally or whoever is new in the fourth grade, etc. This one hour a day is not interrupted by phone calls, emails, telephones or knocks at the door. It’s family time. Period.
3) One night a week is reserved for family fun.
That’s right, I said one entire night. Again, this doesn’t have to be spectacular. We’ve gone to the park, watched a television show, played a board game, put together a puzzle. Anything and everything that we can do as a family, we’ve done. We’ve even enjoyed rousing games of “duck, duck, goose”, and yes, we’ve had a day where we played a “cleaning game” to see who could get their room cleaned the fastest – and then rewarded all participants with ice cream. These simple, yet fun and rewarding nights are looked forward to with anticipation by our children, and as they grow – we are able to do more activities such as volleyball and half court basket ball. Our kids actually look forward to these nights, and plan their weeks around them.

Thanksgiving Traditions

I LOVE Thanksgiving.  I truly enjoy being around family, friends, and neighbors.  I love the smell of amazing foods drifting through the house (in our case for a full three days straight!) And I love the traditions. 
Our family has had a lot of rich tradition when it comes to Thanksgiving as long as I can remember.  Some of our traditions are considered "normal" by most standards, a few are unique to our family, and some are off the wall completely insane - like the pies.  But either way, they are tradition, and they are OUR traditions, and they are what make the first feast of the holiday season something that I look forward to every single minute of the year. 
These are just a few of my favorites:

Bread Cubes.
There's the tradition of breaking the bread cubes for the stuffing.  This year I handed this one off to my three youngest.  It was always the youngest kids' job in the kitchen to break the bread cubes.  I always thought it was fun, and mom was trying to include us - I know now that it's because it keeps little hands busy (and out of the pies) for at least a solid 20 minutes.  That time right there...that's golden.


(yes I do believe Jesse is eating some...)

Cranberry Sauce. 

The super bubbly amazing whole berry stuff ... the kind that DOESN'T Hold the shape of the can as it comes out (that stuff is only good for sandwiches the day after...)   The kind that pops and bubbles and burns your arms as you stir it...Good times.

Pie.
And I do mean PIE.  Lots of it.  This is one thing I remember from growing up with my mom ...  we never EVER wanted for Pie.  Mom made all kinds.  Cherry, apple, blueberry, Mince (AKA Stinky Feet), Lemon Meringue, Banana cream, coconut cream, bumbleberry, Strawberry, Sunday Cream (that deserves it's OWN section), Blackberry, Chocolate Silk, Pecan and Pumpkin - and I'm sure I'm forgetting a few.  Typically, by the time we were done, there was a ratio of 1/2 of a pie per person.  sometimes one full pie per person.
It. Was. Awesome.
This year I made 6, and my sister in law brought 1.  We had 20 people total (and one was an infant who doesn't eat.)  7 pies for 20 people equals about 1/3 of a pie per person.  I'm getting close to the tradition!


Sunday Cream Pie.
In my family, Sunday Cream is more vital on Thanksgiving than Pumpkin.  It's a family recipe handed down from Grandma Johnson (or at least that's how I remember it) I have no idea if it's her own creation or something she found somewhere.  Either way, it's important.  It's nutmeg and custard and whipping cream and .... just amazing fluffiness in a pie crust.

And it's topped with chocolate.

It's also the first pie to disappear.  (and my big 'ol spoon has NOTHING to do with it.  Honest. *snort*)

Carving The Turkey

Carving the turkey is an honor (or so I've been told). When I was growing up, it was Dad's job, if we were at Grandma and Grandpa's - Grandpa did it.  I'm not sure if that was tradition, or simply because they just didn't trust us women with knives after we had been cooking and dead on our feet (and only slightly mentally available) by the time the turkey is served.  Either way, I remember it being Grandpa or my dad who did it. 
This year, we were blessed to have Ammon's Grandpa here for Thanksgiving, and he graciously accepted the honor /  challenge to carve both turkeys. 

He even carved it with my Grandpa and Grandma Johnson's carving set.  First time I remember it being used since my Grandpa Johnson used it to help carve our Thanksgiving turkey years and years and YEARS ago...
Yes, I cried.
A lot.

Friday After

For most people, the Friday after is about turkey sandwiches, pie, and relaxing in front of the television...or black Friday shopping, whatever...
For me?  It's about Pie, cards, family and leftovers.  Usually turkey sandwiches on leftover rolls (if there are any - usually it's wonderbread...rolls never last around here.) This year , we piled all the pie into the back of the Yukon and went over the freeway and thru the tunnel to Grandma's house (see how I did that?  clever eh?  *giggle*)  The Yukon is exactly five pies wide - which meant one rode on my lap...and I didn't even stick my fingers in it and eat it on the way. (probably because it was apple, and not one of the cream pies...I thought that one through!) 
Anyway, we played games, had dinner, chatted with family, looked at photo albums....it was an amazing time. It brought the weekend to a great close - and we still had two more days to relax and play.

I love Thanksgiving.  I love traditions.  I love my family.

What are some of your favorite traditions?

Sometimes The Smallest Things Make the Biggest Difference.

It was Sunday, and I was playing with my kids.  We were running around the house having a tickle chase, and I was winning – let’s face it, I’m bigger, I’m faster, and I’m the mom – no one is going to challenge me.  My kids and I love this time together on Sunday mornings.  It’s our play time.  Dad isn’t around so he has no idea how rowdy we can get.  (I’m sure it’s the same way when I’m gone and it’s just he and the kids too.)
Well, on Sunday, our chase came to a sudden, screeching halt.  I was chasing Jesse into his room yelling, “I’m gonna get ya, you better run faster!” when I placed my foot down quickly, and with a great deal of force.  I wasn’t quite sure what I stepped on, but it didn’t feel good.  Pain shot all the way up my leg, into my shoulders and down the other side.  I instantly fell to the floor, tears welling up in my eyes, and my son looks at me innocently and says, “See mommy, I won!”  He’d made it to the bed safely without me catching him.  I laughed half heartedly, but I couldn’t move.  My foot was throbbing.
I snatched at the floor, where a shirt was lying, and underneath it lay a small, about the size of a medicine cup – toy.  This small little unassuming thing was the cause of all my pain.

I inspected my foot only to find a small pin point of a bruise forming, and assumed it would stop throbbing fairly soon.  We got up off the floor, my son helping me to my feet (with all his four year old strength).  And we laughed a little about how silly it was that mommy got hurt from a toy.  My son set immediately to picking up his room.
Later that evening, the bruise had grown to about the size of a quarter, and the foot was still throbbing.  I laughed it off, figured it would go away.  Monday I ran my errands as usual, took a trip to the doctor to follow up on my ear etc, but having my foot in a shoe was a true painful event.  I couldn’t wait to get them off when I got home.  I wish I hadn’t taken them off, I wish even more that I hadn’t looked at my foot.  This is what waited for me:

Don’t worry, it’s just a bruise – but very painful indeed.  Oh well.  I’ve learned some things from this experience.
1) I’ll never steam full force blindly into any situation again.  I’m going to educate myself on my surroundings, my opponents, and the job that needs to be done before I head full force into anything.  Walking blindly into any situation can be a dangerous thing.  Even with a  client, I need to review their website, know something about their work, their needs  – and know a little something about how I might be able to serve them before I rush head on into a conversation or a negotiation.  It’s just good common sense. It can also keep me from getting hurt. (physically and metaphorically)
2) Sometimes “nothing” really is something.  If I have a nagging sense that something else might be wrong, I will investigate it further.  It doesn’t hurt to make that extra phone call and one more check in with a client just to be certain they are fulfilled in their needs.  Sometimes something small (like my bruise) can grow into something much larger and harder to repair if we don’t catch it head on.  If I had taken steps to elevate my foot and care for the injury – the bruise would not have settled and become as large and as painful.  As it is with a client, if we keep moving forward as if nothing is wrong because we don’t take the time to find out – it can grow into something much larger and harder to repair.
3) It’s okay to cry and let out the frustration once in a while.  It’s okay to let others know that you might be needing a little assistance.  When my son realized that I had gotten hurt because his toys were not properly put away, he immediately went to the task of taking care of them, without being asked.  Sometimes all we need to do is ask for a little help.  Other people aren’t going to read our minds and know when we need assistance, we need to ask for it, and it is okay.  We can become ill, overwhelmed, tired and frustrated.  It’s normal. Asking for help when needed is not weakness, it’s wisdom.  However, you don’t want to over play the sympathy card either, and some point it goes beyond assistance and approaches dependence.
4) No matter what, everything is a learning experience.  We all make mistakes.  I knew going in to that room that there was a possibility something on the floor would be stepped on or broken.  However, I went in anyway.  Sometimes we can be fully prepared for every situation, and still make a mistake.  The important thing is what we take from it, and what we can teach others because of it.
So what do I know?  Toys hurt.  Mistakes get made.  But in the end, I’ve learned something, I’m still going (although with a little assistance), and I’ve learned some valuable lessons.  I’ve learned that the smallest things can sometimes make the biggest impact, and that’s worth the pain.

No Use Crying...

The loud crash and subsequent splattering of chocolate milk all over the kitchen SHOULD have been a clue as to the kind of day we were headed for, but it wasn't.  I actually was pretty cheerful about cleaning up the mess and consoling the completely besought five year old daughter who had spilled it.  It's just spilled milk - no use crying.
Yes, I really did say that.  And, yes, I really did want to smack myself for it.
It's actually been a really eventful few days.  Never mind the fact that the spousal unit is across the world with a fifteen hour time difference...life is never dull or boring around here, and the kids are constantly cooking up new ways to keep it interesting.
This saga - well,it's not something that was done on purpose, but it is something that has to keep us on our toes for the next week or so.
What could it be?
Well - a spider bite, of course.
warning: this post is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach.
For those that don't know, Alison was bitten by a spider.  Most likely a Brown Recluse (Eeeeewwwww!) and most likely while playing in our backyard.  I've never seen a Brown Recluse personally, but I've now become very familiar with them, and their stupid bites and venom.  So much so - that our house has become a battle field, and war has been declared on every creature with more than four legs (because you know, we have a dog and cat too.)
The bite happened Tuesday, to the best of our knowledge...really became painful and troublesome by Thursday, and by Friday it had turned into a - well - we're going to go with a REALLY painful sore. 
Anyway - In the emergency room (where I ultimately ended up) they cut it open, drained it out, and added a drain plug to it...then told me to take her home and have the plug removed Monday.
Wow - the way I just described that in one little sentence...doesn't quite capture the night...
I took her to the ER...
SCREAMING.  (her, not me)
They took her back.
SCREAMING. (still her, not me.)
they looked at the bite, and determined it needed to be cut open and cleaned.
(this is where she stopped screaming and it was more full bodied sobs.)
She declared "I'm better now, and I want to get out of this place."

(smart kid)
They wrapped her up in this mummy type thing so that they could keep her from kicking and pulling away.

(poor sweet little thing)
Then they started to numb it with a few shots of lidocaine...
"Does it feel better yet?" 
No!
No!
NO!
NOOOO!
"ACTUALLY IT DOES, YOU CAN STOP DOING THAT NOW!!!!"
I don't know who was crying more, the doctor, the nurse holding her down, her, or me.
Anyway, they got it all cleaned up,and then awarded her with a popsicle for her bravery.

And then, we went home.
Flash forward to today - where we were supposed to go have the drain removed and all would be hunky dory in the world.
Nope.
Seems that the antibiotics (she's on two) haven't quite done their job, and the infection has festered even more.
Yay.
So off to PCH where they did the whole thing again.
This is what it looks like now.  I'm supposed to leave it open and let her soak in a tub twice a day for twenty minutes so it stays clean. If it isn't better by wednesday we have to take her back to the surgical associates to see if they can surgically clean and repair, because you know, that sounds like fun.
(not for weak stomachs)

So, after the whole spilled milk thing this morning, I have to say  -  milk in the scheme of things is very little - I'm not even worried about it - except of course that some of it might have seeped under the fridge where it will gather and become sticky and a source of food for more more-than-four-legged creatures - and now I am going to be pulling the  fridge,stove,table and everything else out so that I can clean it up properly.  And all by myself because the husband type person is thousands of miles away.
No use crying over spilled milk.
Nope.
It's the spiders I worry about.

Life Outside the Bubble - Day One

I've never been one to care about what other people think about me or what I do. Or at least, I've always told myself I don't care. Typically I just go about my business and don't give a second thought to what others might be thinking or feeling about me.
But today, I cared. And it seems I cared a lot.
I had to teach a lesson in church today about minding control of our tongues. The words we say can hurt others. The words we say can hurt ourselves.
Keep in mind, I teach a class of 9 to 11 year old girls.
The one thing I'll say about this entire lesson, is I love my girls. Endlessly. We talked about how James said that you cannot get salt water and fresh water both from the same spring. We discussed how you cannot get olives and figs from the same tree. They pointed out that you shouldn't kiss your mom with the same mouth that you talk badly with...not sure where they got that one from, but at least I knew they were paying attention...I think.
We watched the video of President Monson talking about the Oak tree and hidden wedges. We talked a lot about how gossip and words can hurt. We talked about how laying your sorrows at the feet of the Savior can help you overcome whatever hurt may come from hidden wedges and hurtful words.
This lesson gave me an opportunity that I hadn't given myself. (or that my busy over-the-top schedule hasn't permitted) I don't plan to go into details here - it doesn't need to be hashed out in public - but it's been a tough couple of weeks and it wasn't until today during this lesson that I realized that I did care. I do care what people say or think.
I was tearing apart inside, although I was holding it together fairly well on the outside. We went through an exercise with the girls where I brought each one up to the front of the room and pointed out some of their amazing qualities. Great daughter. Good friend. Kind heart. Smart. Funny. Gracious. I then invited each girl in the room to name one quality they liked about the girl at the front. One by one we pointed out all the great qualities that they each possess. I bore my testimony that words can mean so much to someone, and that if we speak as HE would have us speak, we'd be keeping His spirit with us always and that will help guide our lives with blessings and happiness.
And then they did the unexpected.
"Wait, Sister Hancock, we need to tell you what we love about YOU."
One by one they told me what they admired about me.
Kind.
Loving.
Nice to me.
Funny.
Great teacher.
Crazy (they meant that in a good way...I think.)
They have no idea how much they touched me today. On the way home in the car, I broke down. My husband had walked in and experienced the last few moments of the class. He'd also been fully aware of my weekend at Time Out for Women and the soul searching I've been doing. He then took my hand and told me...
You're my best friend.
You're a great mom.
I love you.
My cup is overflowing. My heart is full. I am so thankful for the little blessings in my life. And just like I was teaching my girls today, yes, words do hurt - but if you take your pains and sorrows to Him, he will find a way to lighten the load. He will take them away and help replace them with warmth and gratitude.
My first day finding out who it is I am to Become, and already I'm feeling overwhelmed and encouraged by the loving kindness of those around me. I have no idea what I'm going to find on this journey, but I'm so grateful for the loving support while we experience this together.

Life Outside The Bubble

This past weekend I had the incredible opportunity to attend Time Out for Women, which if you don't know what that is, you should. It is a two day long conference for women focused on uplifting and edifying and feeding your heart and soul. For two days you are immersed in good feelings, surrounded by friends you have never met, and lifted up by positive messages. The whole experience is almost overwhelming.
It was in these last two days as I listened intently to the speakers and pondered on the words of their messages that I became painfully aware of something that I may not have fully known up to this point. This moment of clarity was not something I was searching for, or at least I didn't know I was searching for it, but when it found me I knew I had found an answer to prayers I didn't know I had uttered.
It is a good thing that God knows the intentions of your heart, even when you don't.
So what was this moment of clarity? This big awe inspiring moment? I realized that I have been trying to fit myself into a predefined bubble. I have been working towards a seemingly designed perfection that is set up for women of my general age, of my general religion, and of my average demographic. I have been trying to reinvent myself to fit into some mold that has been placed for me by society in general, and had convinced myself that anything less than that standard of perfection was a failure.
The theme of Time Out this year was 'Become.' Become the best you that you can be, and become the daughter that our Heavenly Father knows you are. The challenge was to find your Become, and well...become it.
I will Become. I will find my purpose outside of the bubble of perfection that I have been trying to fit myself into. I will stop living my life to be what others expect me to be, and start living for my Become. I am who I am supposed to be. I am a wife to my husband, a mother to my children, and I am me. I have purpose and reason and meaning, and although I am not sure which box those fit in, or even if they fit in a box at all, it is my Become, nobody else's, and right now that is enough.
Please bear with me on this journey, and if you should feel so inclined leave encouraging thoughts and messages below. Let me know your Become. Share with me your experiences. I can't possibly be the only one living outside the bubble. Quite frankly, I know it isn't going to be lonely out here with you all here with me.
For more information on Time Out for Women, you can view their website at www.tofw.com.

Time out for women

So, it's finally here. The two day women's conference that I have been helping sell tickets for for the last six months.  Speakers from all over the country are here to talk on womanhood and being the best you you can be.
But that's not the story here.
Not by a long shot.
So my friend A and I decided to drive together. (Being the socially responsible carpoolers that we are and All-yeah, sure.) Anyway our morning started off fairly normally, we were up and out of the house and on the road by 530. That's right sports fans..That is AM. Did you know that time existed on non school and workdays? Me either, but I digress.   We made a quick stop to get snacks for the day (we had intentions of buying sandwiches, but ended up with chips and doughnuts...don't judge.) We then made another quick stop for water (because our brains at five AM apparently do not process that salty snacks constitute need for beverages.) And then finally arrived at the parking garage.
This is where the story starts.
We got to the parking garage bright and early and had our pick of spots in the lot. We picked the one of the closest spots to the elevators, and got out of the car excited for our day of uplifting, spiritual talks.  We press the elevator button, it announced It's arrival with a cheerful "ding" and I led the way to step inside.
There was a pile of garbage on the floor.
It moved.
I screamed and uttered words I am sure my sweet friend A has never heard me say before. 
We made a b-line for the stairs, rushed down to the security booth and started to explain to them that there was a guy in the elevator.
The guard was shocked and wanted to be sure we were okay, and immediatley asked if we were harmed or assaulted (in my current state of mind, I can't even tell you if that is spelled right) at all.  I am pretty sure we somehow were able to tell him that it was a non moving human, in a garbage bag...yes a garbage bag...(at this point the security guard was speaking to A directly....I was a horrible blubbering mess and I am pretty sure I was hyperventilating at this point too.)
Security was called.  The elevator was investigated. From a safe vantage point down the street, A attempted to calm me down while we watched and waited with bated breath (well A did, she is the only one who had control of her breathing at this point). Several security guards swarmed the area (by several I mean three) one stopped to ask if we were the ones to find the man in the elevator.  Again A spoke for both of us. I am actually pretty surprised looking back that nobody tried to treat me for shock. I am the one that nearly stepped on him afterall....
We looked back, he walked out of the elevator on his own. A breathed a sigh of relief, I began to breathe a little better, but am still shaking at this point.  In fact as I blog this...still shaking. A is laughing hysterically at me right now and telling everyone not to bother the crazy lady. We are supposed to be listening to the assignments for the day, all I can think about is breathing regularly.   I am such a light weight wimp.
Anyway, today is Time Out For Women.  I am here to be uplifted, spiritually fed, and to hyperventilate and go completely crazy in the parking lot. It should be a good day.

Vanity...

So today I got a wild hair.
Okay, I have a few wild hairs. 
I noticed them in the mirror a few days ago staring back at me...mocking me really as I tried to hide them with no luck.
Funny how my dark brown hair doesn't hide the bright gleaming streaks of grey very well - or you know, at ALL.
I pushed them under, I braided it, I did everything I could, but each time I passed a mirror, there they were - mocking me - taunting me - reminding me of my eventual loss of youth.
So, I did what any smart person would do, I went to Wal-Mart and bought myself a nice little box with a beautiful youthful looking woman on it that promised fantastic results in ten minutes or less.
Being that I'm a busy mom - the whole ten minute thing REALLY appealed to me.
It has to be said that I'm not  a stranger to the world of altering my appearance using salon products.  In fact, I grew up in a household where my parental units TAUGHT at beauty schools and OWNED their beauty shops - so you know, this type of thing is second nature.  I've always had access to the best of the best products - and have never had an issue of green hair or orange, or you know - completely sizzled off.  Never.
So I got home, ripped open the box - tossing the instructions aside ... who needs those anyway, not me - I'm a seasoned veteran! Instructions - puh lease... and proceeded to mix the color crème with the color activator.
When I opened the color activator - and the whiff of strong chemical wafting up my nostrils and burning the insides of my nasal cavity causing my eyes to immediately tear up and blur my vision SHOULD have been a clue - but it wasn't.  Carry On I thought, It just smells bad...I've never met hair color that DIDN'T stink a little bit...
carry on.
Move forward.
I dump the tube of color into the activator, replace the cap and shake.
And shake some more.
I remove the lid and replace it with this dandy little comb thingy that is supposed to make application a breeze.  I put on the gloves.
I touch the comb to my head and squeeze the bottle.  The putrid smelling oooze attacks my head and starts to slide down my hair follicles.
Then it hit me.
Apparently mixing the color crème with the color activator has caused some sort of magical chemical reaction and the strong burning smell I experienced before has now grown, ten fold. 
Carry on.
Move Forward.
Too late to turn back now.
My eyes are burning.  My nostrils are completely seized up from the smell.  The burning sensation has moved to my throat and lungs.
I can't stop now, the oozy thick toxic goop has already invaded my hair space.  If I remove it now, I'll end up looking like a calico cat, can't have that.
Carry on.
Move forward.
Gasping. For. Breath.
After about 3 minutes of trying to use the "handy comb" tool and press this through my hair, I give up. In desperation I take the top of the squeezy bottle off and dump the entire contents of the bottle onto my head and start rubbing it in - shampoo style.
Then I remember. I have Psoriasis.  My scalp is covered in nice scabbed over wounds.  This protective coating is no match for the primordial toxic slime that I've decided to cover my entire scalp with, and am now rubbing the entire surface of my head to make sure it gets good coverage.  The burning sensation that was in my throat and nostrils is no match for the sensation that I'm now experiencing on my scalp.  It is not a slight tingle.  It isn't even a minor itch.  The only thing I can use to explain the sensation that has now taken over is sheer and complete pain.  Something like a thousand ants biting simultaneously.  I bite my lip and move forward.  I've just about got all the hair covered, and then I just need to endure it for ten minutes.
I can do anything for ten minutes, right?
I plop all the gooey hair up on top of my head and set the timer on my phone for ten minutes.  I leave my bathroom in an effort to get some fresh oxygen and clean air.  I come downstairs where my four year old is intently watching my every move.
Are you okay mommy?  Why are you crying mommy?  Mommy your head is bleeding!
No, no it isn't sweetie, it's just a special shampoo that mommies use sometimes.
I look in the mirror, my head does in fact look like I've suffered a major head wound and am using my hair to hold back the blood.
9 minutes to go.
The burning sensation has amplified and I can barely speak my own name - words are getting caught in my throat.
My daughter is insisting that we call daddy - something is wrong, mommy is crying and her head is obviously covered in blood.  Plus, there's a smell - and it's really bad mommy - call daddy....we neeeed to call daddy.
Great, I've scarred my child for life over a few grey hairs.
Grey hairs, that's right, they will not prevail. 
Move on
Carry forward.
5 minutes to go.
The room is spinning.  I'm not sure that I'll be able to make it the next five minutes.  I've clearly lost the ability to think coherently and I'm pretty sure that not only did the chemical smell start to kill off valuable brain cells, but the ooze must be attacking them directly at the source, considering I gave them such easy access and all.
3 minutes.
I start up the stairs, I assume by the time I get up there, it'll be time to rinse out.  It isn't .  I need to wait another 2 minutes and 50 seconds for the timer.   I busy myself trying to clean up the mess I'd made during the application process.  My bathroom looks like the stage from a very badly produced horror film.  In my haste to get the burning toxic ooze all over my head, I apparently paid no attention to the tub, the floors, the walls, or the sink which are now all spattered with dark reddish brown spots and splatter patterns.  My face also has become striped like a demented zebra from the drips running down from my hair to my chin.
Thank goodness we have no plans this weekend.
Grey hairs.
It's worth it.
Move on.
Carry Forward.
Timer sounds.
Thank Goodness...I plunge my head into a sink and start the cold water.  This is where the Arizona factor comes in.  The water isn't cold.  Of course not. How could it be, it's 110 degrees outside and the pipes rest very near the surface.  Now, not only is my head covered in fun chemical goodness, but I've just scorched it with the hot water that was sitting in the pipes.
I open my mouth to scream, but the sink has acted link a small chamber trapping the toxic fumes very near my face and all efforts to scream or yell are immediately choked off by the intense fragrance.
The water starts to cool a little and  I scrub off as much of the ooze as I can.  I remember vaguely that I am supposed to let the water run clear, but that isn't going to happen, I need soap ... this stuff needs to come OUT of my hair and pronto.  My daughter watches me in horror as the sink fills up with reddish brown water and as I work quickly as not to cause any further damage to my head.  I get the water to run as clear as I think I can get it and then in one quick movement remove all my clothes and jump into a waiting bathtub.
I dunk my head under the warmish water and scrub some more.  The water turns orange, then red and I start to resemble someone from the cast of Jersey shore as my skin picks up the remnant color from the water.  I scrub again and again, and finally decide it's time to get out.  I wrap my hair in a dark blue towel, and quickly get dressed.
Moment of truth. I can take it.
My hair is wet, but I can tell in the sunlight that it has taken on a much darker-than-expected red hue.
So much for medium auburn, it appears we are going for a ginger look, all the way.
Oh well - I know it won't last long, it usually dies down after a few days and washings.
I turn on the blow dryer and start to style the new red haired me.
The only thing worse then enduring chemical burns on a tender scalp for ten full minutes then scorching said scalp with scalding water is to apply direct heat and a brush with bristles so sharp they could be used as push pins in the bulletin board.
Move on.
Carry forward.
I flip my hair back and look in the mirror.  I have inadvertently closed my eyes...I'm a little afraid of what I'm going to see.
on the count of three..
One.
Two.
Two and a half....
Two and three quarters...
JUST LOOK.
Wow, um, yes - that's red.  Very Red.  Not auburn at all.
I guess my hair wasn't as dark as I thought originally. 
I picked up the instructions and perused them a bit.  Number one - Do not rub into scalp.
Good, glad I saw that one.
My daughter won't talk to me.
The dog and the cat refuse to acknowledge my existence.
I can't wait until the Husband gets home.
I'm sure he'll already have read this, and I'm prepared for what comes from it.
The things we do for beauty.

Fake it Till You Make it.

We all have those moments, those days, those weeks – even those months – where everything we do seems to go un-noticed, un-appreciated, un-gratifying. No matter what our circumstance, whether it be “stay at home” mom, “work at home” mom, “empty Nest” mom, or even simply “woman” we all feel this way from time to time. The key to breaking out of these unfortunate feelings and fight the dull-drums however is frightfully simple – one of my dearest friends told me this – “Fake it, Till you Make it.”
Now, aside from the obvious connotations of this phrase (I’m thinking of business people pretending to know the ropes, when in fact they do not) – what exactly can I mean by “Fake it Till You Make it”? Well, it’s actually a long held secret that my mother once told me – and by divulging this, I’m spreading a family secret – are you ready? Mother always used to say – “smile, even if you don’t feel like it. Eventually, you’ll convince yourself you are happy, and forget all your worries.”
I never quite believed her until I became a mother myself. You see, there are countless days that I’ve sat here wondering how I became the mother of five, business owner, PTA parent, violin teacher, butcher, and baker and candlestick maker – while all my friends were out pursuing fancy careers, and living the “high life”. It was easy for me to get caught up in all the “if only’s” and “what if’s” and I began to feel sorry for myself. It was right about then that my son appeared with a giant smile on his face, a cookie in his hand, and a kiss on the cheek for me. His smile brightened my whole day and I realized, I was living the dream life – my friends had no idea what they were missing. That one little smile, made my whole world brighter – my day better – my life even more meaningful than it had been before. A smile is a very powerful thing.
From that day on, I’ve made it my resolve to smile in times of difficulty, trouble, depression, or fear. If I need help locating that smile, I simply have to reflect back on that sweet little boy’s innocent kiss on the cheek. You see, it doesn’t matter how much life may pile on me, it doesn’t matter what trials may be thrown my way. I am blessed, I am happy, and I am making it regardless of any one else’s expectations or definitions of success. There may be days that I start off faking it, but usually very quickly, I’m not faking anymore. And, more often than not – that smile spreads, because you see – it’s infectious.

Have I Done Any Good?

Today was a busy day.  Really busy.  The kind that makes you want to go to bed about six hours early - and sleep in about four hours late.  You know the days.
After the majority of our errands were run, we had to meet the husband downtown so he could take our oldest daughter and himself to the doctor for their yearly physical appointments.  We got to the arranged meeting place (Carl's Jr.) about forty minutes early, so I decided to buy the kids a hamburger to eat while we waited...we were all very hungry anyway (busy days tend to do that to you) - so inside the store we all went and the kids sat down to wait for me while I ordered lunch.
It was about then that I saw him.
He was a homeless man, I was sure of that, and he'd come in to the store for a little reprieve from the hot Arizona sun.  You could tell this man had lived a difficult life on the streets, or at least he has for the last few years.  I didn't know his story, but could tell from his clothing and unkempt beard that he'd been out here for a while.  Another thing I could tell from his demeanor and his clothing - he was a veteran of our armed forces.  Most likely Army.
He was simply sitting in a corner of the restaurant, minding his own business - taking a break from the heat.  He occasionally looked up toward the exit door, and over his shoulder at the employees, but never said anything to anyone.  He just sat, attempting to cool off from the hot sun.
Our food was delivered, and the kids and I ate.  The man continued to sit in the corner, but at one point I saw him look up.  He looked sad.  Not hungry or angry or sick, just sad.  There was a story in his eyes that told volumes, with one simple look.  The things those eyes must have seen in his lifetime.  The stories he must be able to tell, and yet - there he sits with people walking by him, ignoring his presence.  It's simply easier to forget about people like him than it is to show a little bit of kindness.
I was drawn to this man.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe it's because I know I owe him a debt of gratitude for the service he's done for me and my family and my country as a member of our military.  Maybe it's because he reminded me of someone I knew once.  I don't know - but I was drawn to him.  I gathered some of the garbage on our table, and took it to the trash bin nearest his table.  He looked up and had pure sadness in his eyes - and then I smiled at him.  I acknowledged he was there.  I saw something in his face I'd not seen the entire time we'd been there.  A spark of joy.  He was simply happy that someone looked at him, and not through him.
I walked over to the man.  I asked if he was okay.  He told me he was - he was simply standing to get a touch closer to the air vent - it was cooler if he stood, he said.  He smiled as I shook his hand.  I thanked him for his service.  He seemed genuinely taken back.  It occurred to me that this is probably the first time in a long time someone has thanked him for being the man he is, for doing the job he did, for defending the things he did.  He told me he was not planning to bother anyone, he was headed back outside.  He actually apologized to me for being there.  He was worried about MY comfort level.
I almost felt ashamed.  The home I have.  The Car  I drive.  The job  I do.  This Blog.  Everything I have is because of people like him who fought for my right to have them.  And he was worried about me.
I asked if he'd eaten anything today.  He said no.  I asked if he'd let me buy him a sandwich.  He hesitated.  And then sheepishly agreed.  I told him to sit down and relax in the cool air, I'd buy him something to eat.
I know it wasn't much.  It was a sandwich.  It was five minutes out of my day.  It was a few dollars out of my pocket.  In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much at all.  I'll go back home to my air conditioned house, I will have plenty to eat.  I will not want for any of my basic needs. But - I've gained something so much more than time or money from this man.  After meeting him today, I feel humbled to have known him - if even just for a few short minutes.
The time I have is not mine alone.  The blessings I've been given in my life are not mine to keep to myself.  The gifts and talents which I've been entrusted with should not be taken for granted. 

"In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." (Matt 25:40)

I don't know where he will be tonight, or tomorrow.  I don't know if anything I did will make a lasting impact on him.  I do know that he's had a lasting impact on me.  He's taught me more with just the look in his eyes and the kindness in his smile about human kindness and charity than I've learned in a lifetime.  I'll never forget him.

It's all about the schedule.

“How do you do it?”
I get asked this question daily by everyone from friends, to colleagues, to perfect strangers. When most people find out that I work from home, with children – they are impressed. When I let them know that I typically work around 40 hours per week – they are amazed. When they find out that I have five children…well, that’s when they are blown away. Inevitably, the next phrase I hear – “Wow, you are my hero…”
There is absolutely nothing heroic about what I do from day to day. My time used to control me. I was tired, stressed out, and wondering what exactly about working from home was good for me and my family. After some time however, it became apparent to me that balancing family, home, and career simply comes down to one simple word. Are you ready? Schedules. I now know every minute of the day, what I am doing, and when I am doing it. Sound complicated? Not really, once you take a step back and look at your day, you’ll realize you already live by a schedule for the most part.
So how do you create a schedule? I will share with you what I did. And no, it isn’t an overnight process, but anything that is really worth it never is. But, you can trust me, follow these few simple steps, and you are well on your way to being organized – with your time anyway.
Before you can create a working schedule for yourself, you need to define the times you spend during the day doing certain tasks. The easiest and most practical first step to defining this time is to create your family schedule. Why? Because this is the schedule you already keep, without realizing it.
First, figure out what you do in a typical day for your family. Don’t make any special effort to be scheduled or organized, just live your day the way you normally do, and take notes. What do you do through out the day? When do you do it? Are there typical things you do every day around the same time? If it helps, keep a notebook, and for the next few days jot down when you – and your kids – do certain things. For example, if your kids are anything like mine, you can set the clock by the time they wake up in the morning. For me, it’s 6:30 AM. After they wake up, a chain of events is put into place…diaper changes, change of clothes, get dressed, and breakfast. Take a note of the time, when did you complete this chain of events? For me, it’s around 7:30 AM. Track all repeating daily events, include nap time, lunch time, play time, and dinner.
Keep your notebook with you for the next few days; you’ll be amazed at the similarities from day to day. Once you locate the similarities, you are going to start creating your schedule. I entered mine into an excel spreadsheet and color coded family events in green. For example, the block of time from 6:30 AM to 8:00 AM on my family schedule is blocked out in green. I know that every morning from 6:30 to 8:00, the kids and I are getting ready to start our day.
Next, you need to analyze the time you devote to your career. Repeat the same steps from above, only this time through, pay close attention to the tasks you complete each day to run your business. Don’t necessarily pay attention to the times you do them, but rather WHAT you do. The whole purpose of working at home is to fit your career around your family, not the other way around. Look at your workload, what is it that you do? Are there client calls to be made? Do you spend a large amount of time returning emails, and written correspondence? Do you have your list? Good.
With the list in hand that you just created, look at the blocks of time in your schedule that are now reserved for family time. Do you see large blocks of time between events? On my schedule, between 8 AM and 10:15 AM there is a large block of time that does not have a daily repeated event. Now is the time to fill in your career duties. Let’s look at scheduling time to make client phone calls. With your schedule in front of you, look for periods of time in your day when your house might be quiet enough to make a professional call. For me, it’s between 10:30 AM and 12:00 Noon – why? This is when my two year old takes a nap, and my three year old has “quiet time”. I blocked this time out on my schedule to make and receive calls. Continue through your working tasks, and identify times on your schedule that you can complete them. When can you return emails? What is a good time to research new projects? Do you see things falling into place?
Now, look at your schedule. There may be times left in there that are “free”. If that’s true, then you aren’t done yet – and if it isn’t true, you may want to take a second look at the tasks you do have scheduled. The “free” time is the most important time in your day. What is the “free” time for? This is time for your family, for your kids, for your home, and for you. We all made the choice to work from home so that we could be closer to our family. A lot of times it is difficult to draw the line between work and home, especially when they occupy the same space. This “free” time is the time you use to remind yourself why you decided to work from home in the first place. We use the time at our house to build play-dough creatures, color, and play Candy-Land. Sometimes we even go for a walk, or go to McDonalds. “Free” time is also used to clean house, go to the store, and impromptu visits to the library.
Finally, test your schedule out. The most important factor to making it work is to live by it. When your time is up on a certain task, you must move to the next. A schedule doesn’t work unless you live by it. I am not saying that every day is going to fall into place, and every task is going to run smoothly every day. The fact of the matter is, we live in the real world and in the real world – things happen. However, when you have a schedule to go by when these “things” happen you will know what you have coming up, and figuring out a time to manage it won’t be such a daunting task.
Like I said, I’m nobody’s hero. I just took the time to figure out what others need of me, and when I have the time to do it. I now have control over my time, it doesn’t control me – and that is an amazing feeling.

18 Hour Pulled Pork Recipe

Absolutely love this recipe.  We had it for dinner last night, and several facebook friends have asked   for the recipe - so here it is:

Dry Rub for bbq (from the cook book "The Best Recipe")

4 TBSP Paprika
2 TBSP chili Powder
2 TBSP Cumin
2 TBSP DARK brown sugar
2 TBSP salt
1 TBSP oregano (dried)
1 TBSP Granulated Sugar
1 TBSP ground black pepper
1 TBSP ground white pepper (If you don't have this, sub  1/2 tbsp ground black pepper)
1-2 TSP Cayenne Pepper (To taste, and completely optional)
Mix all ingredients in a small bowl.
18 Hour Pulled Pork
1 6-8 lb Pork shoulder roast
1 recipe for dry rub (see above)
1 cup water
Rinse and pat dry the pork shoulder roast.  Apply dry rub, spreading evenly over the roast.  Place roast into LARGE crock pot.  Pour one cup of water in the bottom of the crock pot and set heat to LOW.  Cook for 18 hours, checking for water levels (do not let the water evaporate out, or the roast will burn.)   Depending on if the roast is frozen or completely thawed, this water may or may not need added.  A frozen roast typically will not need the extra cup of water.  This is also going to depend on your slow cooker/crock pot.
Approximately one hour before you are ready to  serve, suction remove the bone from the roast, and shred the meat.  It will be fork tender, and will fall apart as you remove the bone, very little shredding is required.   If you find there is too much juice in the pan for your liking , remove it now, leaving just enough in the pot to keep the pork moist as it continues to warm. 
Serve with homemade BBQ sauce - or your favorite bottled sauce - on toasted hamburger buns.
I typically put the roast in around 11 PM the night before we plan to eat, and serve around four or five PM the following day.  Great sides include corn on the cob, coleslaw or chips.
ENJOY!