Where's My Creative Flow?

Write.
File. Select all. Delete.
Write.
Repeat.
What is wrong with my creative flow? Where are my words of wisdom? Humor? New thought provoking posts, are empty pages or lonely drafts, unseen by others and taunting to me.
There was one about my Princess status being revoked, complete with my utter dismay, chronological analyzation, and a major bashing of all known "Princes"...respect for my male followers put that one on the "Save for Later" list.
The one about my job and the amount of testosterone I am amid daily, comparing it to marriage, due to my need for medication and the desire to throw heavy objects, was completely deleted as it was somewhat incriminating and, while, hysterically funny, not a good idea-I still work there!
And the one about my sister and her recent dealing with marital abandonment and complete disrespect by her husband of 22 years, my dumb-ass brother in law, What's His Face, is being saved and turned into a private, personal email that I will send when the time is right.
So, what's left?
Well, there is Christmas and the Santa debate. You know the one where people don't believe. I mean, come on. That notion that the parents do the gifts and eat the cookies. That can't be right. My parents would NOT come into my house in the middle of the night, leave presents under the tree and eat the cookies. They just wouldn't DO that. Besides, we go to their house and exchange gifts. They don't need to do it in secret. So, that idea just doesn't hold water. So, that post didn't either. It's an open and shut case! Santa is real!


So, that leaves the stand by post for end of year creative drought....

Things to Accomplish in 2012

Most lists I have seen have 100.  However, due to a severe and chronic case of procrastination, I will start with 10. These are in no particular order...

Go on a Real Date. (*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart is NOT a date!)
Organize the House (this could take most of 2012 and should not be taken lightly or seriously...a 2-1/2- year-old lives here with her 18-year-old father!)
Stop Smoking (YEAH....there is the humor!)
Lose Weight (this would be weight gained by trying/accomplishing the above goal! Thinking ahead here!)
Write More (Write in this blog, expand on novel #2, finish a couple short stories, catch up on letters to family/friends, emails, notes to the kids, and write and send a letter to Santa to thank him!)
Smile More at the People I Meet. After all, I paid a lot of money for these teeth....May as well show 'em off!
Regain Princess Status...can be done with a pair fancy shoes, a shiny diamond necklace, and a new sparkly dress! Or, according to my granddaughter, I can marry a Prince...I'll take the shoes!
Redecorate My Kitchen Can you say fire engine red microwave?
Take Myself on a Date. (*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart IS a date!)
Sleep Sounder, Dream Bigger, Live Fuller, Eat Better, Love Unconditionally, and Always, and I mean ALWAYS, Have an Alibi!

Write.
File. Select all. Post
Write.
Repeat.

Until Next Time,
Kimberly

Sorry it's not tomorrow....

In my life of working, children, friends, Twitter, calling my mother, emailing my sister, drinking an occasional beer with my father and coffee with my brother, there is still time to sleep a little, shower quickly, drive fast, and eat while I smoke. Yet, in the midst of all this living, I think. I think about the things I will do tomorrow.

My laundry for one. Grocery shopping for another. I still want to hang a new picture I bought 9 days ago!!! And then there is writing. I write in my mind all day long. I write at work, on the phone, in my car, and while I sleep. I think about writing all the time. I come home and jot a few things down. Then I say, I will post that tomorrow....

This is NOT tomorrow. I am very sorry my posts have disappeared. Please hang in there and know I will be back. I will get used to this overwhelming grind of work and being a grown up and will start posting again. I have a pile of notes, thoughts, and ideas.

Thoughts take over my day. My mind swirls and spins in a menagerie of words, stories, posts, jokes, quotes, and just plain silly stuff.

A quote came into my life today from Lady Chatterley's Lover,

"A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not having lived it."

Are we doing this? And not just women....men too. As PEOPLE, are we doing this? When I am 60, is it going to matter that I worked 71 hours this week? Probably, but only when I go in for my hip replacement!

All kidding aside, I will ponder this quote and it's meaning until I can post a meaningful thought. Or until a better one comes into my mind. Until then, what are your thoughts on it?

Are you living your life? Are you setting yourself up to regret that you didn't.

There are things in my life that I am putting off. I am putting it off until tomorrow. Until my day off. Until winter is over. Until the kids move out.

Until John Cusack.....well yeah, you get the idea!

So, you ponder this. Write your own thoughts, ideas, jokes, quotes, or just plain silly stuff.

And while you do that, I am going to hang up this really cool picture I bought!!!!

Until next time,

Kimberly

For my "Jilly"...

This will not be a post full of laughs and attempts at satire that I usually engage in. It will not be free from mentions of my book. It will be from the heart. Wrote straight from there with no rewrites or edits. It will be real. So, if you read my stuff for the chuckles, this may disappoint you. For that, I apologize. I also apologize for mentions of the book here as I promised I wouldn't do that on the main page. I am not mentioning it for sales boost or exposure. It is necessary for this post to make any sense at all. Sense that, only I, will benefit from, as it is, I suppose, therapeutic or perhaps my way to just get it out. For that I also apologize for- but also thank you, for allowing me to do it.
So, what is this all about?
Well, when I was little I met this woman. A crazy, silly, fantastically odd, wonderful woman from Alabama. She was my father's aunt. And she was like no adult I had ever met. She would come to town and in her wild choice of dress, usually something in large floral print with an outrageously funny hat, and with her thick southern accent, make her presence known in our small family. She was a bright shining light in my otherwise dull Iowa life.  
She would be so excited to see me. She would talk to me about her brother, who she called "Bubba"- my grandfather- who I had never met. She could tell a story and make you feel like you knew every person she talked about. Stories complete with  names and places, silly in origin, that to anyone else, would seem completely fictional, yet I knew every word, every place, and every character were real. And they were all my family. Extended family that I had never met, yet I felt like I knew each and every one of them.
Each time she would visit, the stories would be told. She would talk of family with great love. She loved our family history and researched it with passion. She would share her findings with excitement and pride.
As I grew older, my relationship with her grew as well. We would write to each other often and she would share details of her life-from the flowers blooming in her yard, to what she had for breakfast, or who came for a visit. Trips to town she took on her bicycle and talks with friends she met along the way were included in vivid detail. Secrets, advice, thoughts, poetry, and life changes were shared by each of us.
We shared in the births of my children and her enjoyment that our family legacy would continue. She would refer to my children by their full given names, just as she would refer to me with my own. The only one to call me Kimberly without the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up. I always thought this funny as everyone else she had ever known, including herself, had a nickname.
We continued to write and occasionally spoke on the phone. As she aged, her travels ceased and her life became less mobile, but still entertaining to her.  I cherished her letters, written eloquently and with detail as vibrant as she was in person.
We shared over 25 years of correspondence before she shared with me that her sight was going and her Parkinson's disease was taking control of her life. While her passion remained and her mind sharp as ever, her physical being suffered.
A caregiver started writing the words she told her to write. She asked me to come care for her.
Although my life over the years was great, it had been as wild and crazy as one could imagine and stability was never used to describe it. With children still at home, I was not in a position to move and be with her. As much as I wanted to help her and be with her, I could not. While I was sure she was in good hands, I wanted to be there and she knew that. I continued to write but I received less and less correspondence back as time went on. I sent her pictures of my family and continued to keep her posted on life in Iowa.

A letter came in early fall 2009 that I won't share details here, but it was a plea of sorts. To carry on her legacy. To not let things end. That letter filled me with bittersweet memories of her and of our unique long distant friendship. Also, building inside me was a strong desire to visit the place she so vividly painted. The place in all the stories. To see the walls that held the love she spoke of. To see her again. To watch her tell the stories. To see her face light up, her eyes twinkle and to be swallowed in that smile and surrounded by that laugh when she humored herself.

Despite desire, I had responsibility at home. I had my children and my work. I talked with my son many times about taking the trip south to that tiny Alabama town that would put us in the middle of our heritage. Near the heritage that she had instilled, first, in me, and then in my son, who, years earlier, had stumbled upon her letters and started his own family research. To the tiny southern town that housed our family home. The one she was born in, that my grandfather grew up in and where my own father played as a child. The place in the stories that I had heard since I was a young girl and where I longed to be.
To be with her. Holding her hand as she told me more stories. As she told me of my grandfather. Of my great-grandmother and of herself. Stories of her as a teen making a beauty mark on her face with charcoal and of my grandfather curling her hair with the iron heated in the oil lamp. Stories that I had heard over and over but never tired of hearing.

In winter of 2010, I began writing the story that would become my first novel.  All I knew at the time was it involved a little girl and she had a story to tell. I did not know then what that story was.
Then, in what I call a twist of fate, I had the ability to go to Alabama.
Feeling an urgency to visit her, my son and I left on the 13 hour journey to Alabama. We spent a week with  my lifetime friend. Recovering from an illness in a nursing rehab facility, her physical being was weak but her mind was still sharp, remembering dates, times, places and the people in her life who had meant the world to her- many who had passed from this life before her. My son and I stayed in her home. The family home. A painting in my mind, came to life as I walked into the house. The beauty of the memories she shared were there; I could touch them and smell them. I felt at home.

She and my son spoke of generations of the past and he promised to continue her research as she admitted her eyes were not well enough to proceed. Though she spoke of going home from the nursing facility she was in, she knew in her heart, that was only a wish. And I knew, that place would be her new home. It saddened me when I listened to the quiet of the house that it would pass from our family into the legacy of another. But, the memories and the love would stay with me. Those I would keep.

She told me of the journals that she wrote in everyday and told me to take them home with me. "They contain the words of our family, Kimberly. Take them home and read them to your children." she said. Although, she gave them to me, I could not bring myself to do as she asked. I told her I would get them when I came again in the summer.

The morning before we left Alabama to return home, we visited her again. And again, she told me, "this is not the end." She told me not to say goodbye. "See ya later," she said. "Say see ya later." And then she told me to write everyday. To write it all down and tell a good story.

That request I honored. I went home and I wrote. The little girl in my book did have a story to tell. For 8 months I wrote. In the end, I called it Just Sippy. A story about eleven-year-old, Sippy, and her beautiful, quirky, hippie cousin from Alabama named Jilly. While the storyline is fictional, and the character of Jilly is somewhat exaggerated, there is a 30 year bond there that is real; the love; the faith and the friendship is all very real. And Jilly's quirky, silly, happy, love for family and life is very real.
The love of her life; her family, is what kept "Jilly" going. It is what gave her the twinkle in her eye, the bounce in her voice and the joy in her heart. That is very real. And that part of "Jilly" is very real to me...to the little girl in me...an 11-year-old Iowa girl with a silly Great Aunt from Alabama.
My "Jilly". My Great Aunt and my friend of 30 years. That was real.

I received word from family this week that my "Jilly" was very ill and no longer responding.
On Wednesday, I called and asked the nurse to put the phone to her ear. I told her I did what she said and that I wrote it all down. I told her I loved her. I ended with "see ya later."

She quietly passed early yesterday morning. It's hard not to be sad!
See ya later, my "Jilly." Say hi to "Bubba"!

Until next time,
Kimberly
P.S. To my dearest, lifelong friend- I'm sorry I never came back for the journals. I will always love you!


            

It's a Trend!

I am seeing a trend.
No, not on Twitter. Come on, people...it isn't always about Twitter. (Right? Please tell me that's right, cause I put some stupid stuff on Twitter.)
Okay, anyway, don't side track me. Have you not realized by now, that my attention span is NOT a virtue! Seriously, I'm like those dogs in that one movie...."SQUIRREL!" What movie was that? OH---See? Stop that.
(UP, The Movie)
Okay, so, I am seeing a trend.
First, I saw a blog about dating over 40....oh crap, now I gotta go find it so I can link you to it. Apparently, it really is a thing. And then, I saw an article about getting a job over 40. (Crap, I need that link, too) This could take some time! (Dating Over 40 and The Other One)
Okay, so I got to thinking...is there something wrong with being over 40? Is it a stigma? Is it contagious? Cause, I think people think it is. Then I got to thinking about all the other "groups" that have a stigma...you know, like a blemish on your character...or a big oozing pock mark on your personality. Depends on the level of self esteem you have left as to how you view these groups....Some can be compliments-others, not.
But, we do group people. As a society we "group" people, like little fraternities, but without the cool parties!

Single mothers * Divorced Women * Divorced Single Mothers * Dead Beat Dads * Stay Home Moms *Stay Home Dads * Self Published Authors * Women Over Forty * Fifty and Fabulous * Big and Tall * Domestic Goddesses *Smokers * Ex-Smokers *99-ers *Non-Traditional Students *Job Seekers *Applicants *Working Mothers * Women Writers * Career Women * Baby Boomers * Players * Gamers * Bloggers * Indie Authors * Teen Mothers/Fathers

Obviously not a complete list, but, some of the most popular. So, what does this all mean and what is my point? Well, obviously, I don't have a point and it means nothing....kinda like that game show, where nobody wins and the points don't matter. (Who's Line Is It Anyway)
But, on that same note, there is something I want. Something that we should do. If we are gonna group people that is...


THROW FREAKIN' PARTIES!
I mean, seriously! Why not? What better way to prove we are not judging anybody by grouping them? That's right. I said throw parties!
It's easy....from now on, when we group somebody by saying "she's a single mom" or "they are smokers" or "hey, all women over 40"...I'm thinking that conversation should end with "You are cordially invited to...."
How much fun would that be? It'd be freakin' awesome. In fact, I think this idea should be retroactive. By that I mean, we owe people a lot of parties.
Heck, just based on the above list.....

I am a Single Divorced Mother Over 40 who spent years as a Stay Home, Domestic Goddess, before becoming a Non-Traditional Student to be a Working Mother in a world full of Job seekers and Applicants until finally going for the dream of a Woman Indie Writer. Add to that I have become a 99-er, a Blogger, a Chronic Smoker and mother of a Teen-Father who is a Stay Home Dad. And now, I am well on my way, to being Fifty and Fabulous! (that's enough parties to get me to retirement!!)

So, what about that trend of being over 40? Dating over 40? Getting a job over 40?
Doesn't matter really....
I heard #FiftyIsTheNew29 is going to trend on Twitter!
And it really is all about Twitter! Right?

Until next time,
Kimberly

Would the Real Me Please Stand Up?

So, I've talked about my kids, and my parents. I've rambled on about my book and writing. And I have even talked a little bit about jobs and the fact I need one.
But, I haven't really talked about me....The real me!
Not the "me" who thinks about cutting her hair every other day, or wishes she could lose 10 pounds. Not the "me" who talks about how much she loves Dr. Pepper but tries not to drink it. Not the "me" who believes George Clooney will someday give up on her and marry a super model, already! Not even the "me" who proposes to John Cusack on Twitter when she has nothing else to say....No, believe it or not, the real me actually knows John Cusack would never marry a girl who proposes on Twitter and that poor George is stuck-delusional even, in thinking this would all be given for him. (Please George, I beg of you! MOVE ON!)
No, I'm talking about the real me. The one who deals with life everyday. The one who deals with the struggle and the stress. The one who budgets, cleans, taxi's, and cooks. The one doing the laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, and the dusting. The one who counsels kids, gives advice and loans $5 for gas. The one who listens to her friend complain about her husband, daughter complain about her lovelife, and son complain that he's bored. The one who worries about her parents, frets about money, and occasionally contemplates really stalking John Cusack.
But, most importantly, I'm talking about the real me!
The absolute real me is the one who wakes up every morning and wonders if all this has been a dream and if there really is a gorgeous hunk of a man in her kitchen making Hazelnut coffee.
The real "me" wonders if men realize asking a girl "wanna ride my Harley sometime" is not the same as asking her on a date. She's the one who thinks that just once a guy could say "You are really pretty" instead of saying "Baby, you're so hot". The one who thinks a kiss goodnight is romantic and it doesn't make you less of a man if you try for just one.
The real "me" who wonders if she will ever find that one she is supposed to be with forever. (Sit down, George! It is NOT you! See? He's obsessed!)
Here's some thoughts from the real me...
The real me doesn't want to get married. I have been down that road a time or two (or three). It's safe to say, I don't like husbands.
I don't want to take care of someone. I have enough trouble taking care of myself.
I don't need someone to take care of me. That is just damn scary and men are too fickle...they change their mind and, poof, I'm livin' in a box! No thanks!
I am not looking for a souvenir to drag to family parties that my brothers can wrestle with. I am, however, interested in drinking a beer or two with my father and if someone were there to open the bottle, that would be great!
Not looking for someone to mow the grass, drive the boat, or man the grill. But, if he happens to HAVE a lawn mower, OWN a boat and can bring his own grill, that, too, would be great.
Not looking for a guy to clean my gutters, repair leaking faucets, or figure out what that noise in the furnace is...I have a landlord for that, but if he wants to kill a spider, change a lightbulb on the porch, or pump my gas, that would be super!
Also, not looking for someone to cook for everyday, pick up after, or feed their ego.
Not looking to cater to, explain to, or justify the actions of me or my kids. We are who we are. Not perfect. Not exciting. Not rich. Not famous. Not at all.
Doesn't have to be an Einstein or anything. Doesn't need to have his face in a book at all times. But it is helpful that he knows what a book is and may actually be kinda cool if he has read one, in say, the last 20 years or so.
Don't want him to cry in a Kodak commercial or anything but a little sentiment goes a long way. Like if the Mayhem guy does anything at all for him, I am good with that.
I don't want him to live in his mother's basement or anything, but he needs to at least know her first and last name and occasionally speak to her. And "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number doesn't count." And while we are at it, "Hey You, there is something I need to discuss about that time in the 4th grade..." is pretty much a deal breaker, too.
Don't want someone I can beat up but don't want President of the WWE either.
Don't want a guy who calls his time in witness protection, his stint in prison, or his unemployment "a vacation".
Don't want a guy who lives in a bar, at his job, in his car, above someone's garage, in my garage, on my couch, or in a storage facility he has converted into an efficiency apartment. He doesn't have to own his own home, but he can't make me hide under a blanket and pretend he's not there if his landlord knocks on the door.
If we are in a relationship and he refers to our intimate moments as "hittin' it", "bangin'" or any other colorful, slang use of vulgarity- he can bet I will tell his friends I broke up with him because he couldn't "bang it" effectively!
(Which, in my experience of the men who use those phrases, well, I would not be lying.)
Tattoos in moderation are fine, but not as a substitute for clothes and self portraits, Nazi symbols and anything they can make dance is not attractive. 
Well, by now, you are asking "where is she getting all of this?" Believe or not, from experience.
Yes, I have met most of these men and even married a couple of them. It has not been pretty. Now, of course not all of this is without imagination or exaggeration. I mean, even I realize by now, that George is not giving up.

But, you may also be asking what does the real me want?
That is a loaded question. I will try to answer.

I want the old fashioned thing. The guy who talks and listens. The guy who loves me from the inside out. The guy who thinks about me all day. The guy who tells his friends about me. The guy who remembers those silly things I like.
Doesn't exist?
Oh, it does. Granted - He married my mom! But, any whoooo, a girl can dream!
And what am I willing to give?
All of who I am. A single mother of five who thinks about cutting her hair and losing 10 pounds while smoking, writing, reading, eating, singing, dreaming, wishing, hoping and praying. A woman who proposes to John Cusack regularly and would leave you in a heartbeat if he ever took her up on it. A Grammy who thinks her grandkids are way cuter than her first generation kids, and would hate you til your death if you ever even thought about hurting any of them. A girl at heart who thinks her dad is the best man on the planet. A karaoke, bar-hating junkie, a book loving, non-library card holding geek, an unemployed workaholic, a published, unknown author, a starving writer, a poet, a flutist, a painter, a photographer, and her kids' friend.
A sister, an aunt, a daughter, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, an ex-wife, an ex-girlfriend, a former co-worker, a former boss, a former employee, and a former student.
A blogger, a Twit(terer), a Stumbler, a Scrabble lover, a coffee addict, a best friend, and a trivia buff. A lover of Elton John, Eva Cassidy, The Cranberries, and Ellen! Someone who likes black and white movies and oldies music, believes in Santa, wants to be an elf, and lives for Christmas! One who cries in sad movies, at the end of Frosty the Snowman and during fireworks. One with Christmas traditions she won't give up, superstitions she doesn't falter from, and a collection of ugly chairs her kids try to throw away.
A simple woman who is grateful for what she has, unapologetic for what she doesn't, proud of who her kids have become and excited for who they have yet to be, confident in the choices she has made and ready for  those to come.
So, until then I just wake up every day and wonder....WHAT IF there was a gorgeous guy in my kitchen making Hazelnut coffee? Oh hell, I would have to get up!
Just bring me the coffee!

Until next time,
Kimberly

Things I've Done...Things I Wish 2011

I thought it fitting to make a "Half Way Through Year 2011" list. Why? Well, because it's July 1st and that's half way through year 2011. Try to keep up! :)
So, most of you know I have been crazy busy since last August. And that I am not a consistent blogger despite my attempts to be. And that I usually write about kids...my book....my addiction to coffee, Dr. Pepper, and cigarettes, or I just babble.
Well, this post is not a venture away from the norm. I am going to post about kids, my book, my addiction to coffee, Dr. Pepper, and cigarettes, and I am going to babble. It's just going to be in an organized "list". Yeah, I know, exciting, huh? Yeah, I know....I need to get out more.

So, here we go. A list of things I've done and things I still wish (either for or about) half way through year 2011...
(in no particular order)

Survived Blizzard 2011...

This is not my driveway but is courtesy of my friend's facebook page the morning after. Thank, RB!

Lived through yet another Valentine's Day
Saw my book cover for the first time.
Approved my final edit.
Did a radio interview.
Kept a promise to a friend.

First person I ever told that I was writing a book and promised him the first copy.

Love ya, Skippy, (aka K.H.)

Released Just Sippy to the public...With a fantastic PARTY!

(Still feeling gratitude and love for all who attended!)

Received Elton John concert tickets that night! AMAZING!
Started Book tour in Colorado. Spent 3 glorious weeks there.
April 12, 2011 SAW ELTON JOHN IN CONCERT! Don't mean to scream but seriously, it was ELTON!
Promoted book throughout Colorado, Nebraska, and Iowa
Back at home, I planted flowers and gave my yard much needed color!
Spent a weekend in Omaha with my bestie and had another book signing.
Proposed to John Cusack. (more than once, actually!)
Had a Mother's Day picnic with the kiddos
Did a book signing at the Farmer's Market and tasted the best cantaloupe of my life!
Spent many Wednesday's in "The Joe Zone" (Click the link to learn more about these glory days)

 The Joe's "Family Famous" rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. Classic!

Spent Sundays with kiddos for family day; watching movies, playing board games, sitting on the deck, and eating large quanities of food!
Received great reviews of my book, Just Sippy. Read some of them here. And on Amazon!

Celebrated 40 years of marriage with my parents!

THIS was a good time!

Wrote songs with my daughter

Filmed my daughter singing her own songs. (Videos coming soon, I promise)

Started being a little more faithful to my blog. And Twitter. 

Started a "full blown, now is the time to get serious, no more kidding around, revamp the resume, personalize all cover letters" job search!

Drank an obsessive amount of coffee.

Cut back on Dr. Pepper

Thought about cutting my hair on several occasions

Thought about dieting on several occasions

Made a lot of new friends, in person, and on Twitter, Facebook, and in the Blog world.

Started a new story.

Saw awesome fireworks at local carnival (cried like a baby...Weird, I know...it's a flaw)

Rode a ferris wheel

Changed that new story

Took a break from that story

Welcomed my mother back for a visit.

Cleaned my house profusely before my mother's visit.

Sang karaoke

Experienced the best 6 months of my life!

Now, for my wishes...

Weight loss

Good hair days

A fantastic employer to realize I am all that AND a bag of chips and need a snack!

See glorious fireworks!

Be #1 on Amazon. (Hey these are wishes!)

George Clooney to stop waiting for me and get married already! I hate being responsible for all these super models' broken hearts. It's just not fair. MOVE ON GEORGE!

Be on Ellen (click here for post about going on Ellen)

Get my daughter to go viral on youtube (Videos soon, I promise)

Have another picnic

Go camping and fishing

GET A JOB!

Forever "In the Joe Zone" days!

My son to suddenly realize taking out the trash is his job!

My grass to be mowed regularly.

Benefits! (note to possible future employer...lack of this is NOT a deal breaker! Seriously. Not a deal breaker.)

Time to organize my house

Have a successful, "sorry, I'm sold out" garage sale!

Go to garage sales (if the above is accomplished, I will have so much room!)

A bigger, less expensive house. (I know....wishes, remember?)

Have a functional kitchen! (you have no idea! Design on a Dime couldn't fix this!)

A Dishwasher

GET A JOB! (Attention all employers...check your mail....I'm in there! And I ROCK!)

Open my own business. (great idea/no capital. Attention: Investors....LOL!)

Go back to school (This should have been #1, if it was in order. Just sayin')

Win the lottery!

Write more songs with my daughter. (she's a genius.)

Last night I wrote words and in less than 10 minutes, she had melody!

It was nuts! Video soon...

WAIT...

I do have a blooper.....she would kill me....

If she knew...

Okay, but promise not to tell her. 

Oh, and don't hold it against me as a blogger, writer, friend, person, or parent....

SHE CUSSES REALLY BAD IN IT! 

Like a sailor. Just once. And she actually SINGS it.....well, okay. 

Send your kids out of the room and then play the video. 

Remember, it's a blooper......oh, and don't tell her!

JENNIFER'S BLOOPER VIDEO!

LMAO! We laughed so hard! It was excellent!

Well, this post is long enough and if you are even still reading, well, thank you so much. It wasn't my intent to really babble this much.

You know I can really sum it up by saying that I have had a great 2011 so far.

Yes, it has had it's ups and it's downs.

It is getting a little scary.

But, I have great kids and awesome parents and I know it is going to be okay!

Did I mention I would really like a job?

Until next time,

Kimberly

Employers Hate That!**

So, as you all may have figured out, my mother stayed an extra week. That of course would be why I have been so quiet.  Not that she had me duct-taped to a time-out chair or anything—just busy.  And while I promised you a run-down of the pre-arrival, actual visit and post departure details, I am opting out of that now, as there is no need to burden you with the amount of cleaning supplies necessary to please my mother. (The jury is still out on that anyway…not sure there are enough scouring pads in existence to deem her pleased.)

However,  she did have a good time here, a nice flight home and is now snuggling with her cats—one a cross-eyed , “I own this house but don’t talk to me”  male cat named Mickey Blue Eyes, and the other, a beautiful long haired female Siamese, with an attitude, named Cleo. It’s quite possible she once belonged to Hitler. She even has the mustache.

But, Mom is safe and sound and that is the important thing.

So, now, what will I burden you with? Well, if you pay attention, you will know I am job hunting. Yes, I said job hunting.  To those of you out there wondering about the fact I wrote a book—please Google “starving writer”—that crap is real!

But, about job hunting. I like to refer to the process as killing the self-esteem one resume at a time. And while that could be negative, I am turning it positive and just revamping my current standing in the self-esteem department. Let’s see if I can elaborate.

First, I have always considered myself to be dependable and hard-working. Second, I am honest and loyal. Third, I am motivated and a team player. Perhaps this overdose of high self-esteem is hurting me. For example:

Dependable and hard-working means I will arrive every day and do my job well. I will go above the call of duty, thus deserving an excellent report at the end of probation evaluation in 90 days and maybe even get a little raise.

Employers hate that!

Honest and loyal means I am trustworthy and I will learn all I can to improve my skills and have huge potential as a long term employee. There will be no reason to lay me off or terminate our relationship. That could lead to more hours, perhaps generate a nomination for Employee of the Month…my own parking place, and maybe, even benefits!

Employers hate that!

Motivated and a team player means that I don’t need babysat or supervised and I am well liked by my fellow employees. That means I could outshine my supervisor. Maybe outshine them right out of a job and the other employees would love me even more and, quite likely, throw me a party!

Employers hate that! 

With this new knowledge of the system, awareness of potential employer fear, and sheer desperation, I have devised a fool proof criteria for getting a job. It involves those dreaded interview questions…

#1) I will answer questions with questions. For instance, when they ask “Why do you want to work here?”  I will answer, “Why wouldn’t I want to work here? You work here and you are awesome!”

#2) I will openly discuss my weaknesses as if employment there will cure me. “I tend to run late, but I want to be here so much, I will show up yesterday!”

#3)When asked to describe conflict at my last job, I will explain, "my lawyer says I can’t discuss it but the judge scared me so bad, I won’t ever do it that way again!"

#4) When they ask why they should hire me, I will say,  "I work cheap, never need a raise, won’t expect many hours, laugh at the idea of benefits and"— the sure fire way to land the job…

"I can ask 'Do you want fries with that?' in 3 different languages!"

Like I said, killing the self-esteem one resume at a time! 

Until Next Time,

Kimberly     

**Please be assured this post is not meant to offend any of the following:

people who sell fries, French or otherwise; Hitler buffs or Siamese cat lovers; people with low, high or no self-esteem; people who use duct-tape; people who have been advised by their lawyer or scared by a judge; and finally, 

any employer who welcomes potential Employees of the Month or by some chance has my resume on their desk.

My Mother's Coming...CLEAN!

Do any of you have this response to an announced visit from your mother? Can there really be an entire post about it? Well, in my life the answer to question one is "OMG, YES!" and for the second question, "I could write a BOOK about it" but we will just go with a post...(she READS my BOOKS)

So, that will be the plan....my next post will be dedicated to my mother's visit...in it's entirety. Pre-arrival through departure. Although, it may go beyond that as she will haunt me for 3 weeks, remembering each detail of my house, my habits, and the inventory of my refrigerator.

I would love to start now and write the whole post but..... SHE IS STILL HERE!

Gotta go for now....she's coming! Brillo pads? She just asked for brillo pads. This can't be good.....


Until next time,
Kimberly

What My Kids Would Say If...

You may or may not know, I have this fantasy that indicates I think I am someone special, and should be on The Ellen Show. 

This goal has nothing to do with me writing a book. In fact, in a letter to Ellen, back in ’06, I told her I wanted to be her first un-famous guest. I would still qualify!

I told my kids we need to start making “Why We Should Be on Ellen “ videos and submit them.

“Make them go viral,” I said and my son’s response was, “but WE don’t wanna go on Ellen--you do”. [he is wrong about that…my daughters would LOVE to go on Ellen!]

Okay, well, my kids won’t write her. I tell them to write her and tell her how great I am. They won’t. They won’t make the videos either.

So, I had this idea today that I would write to her- AS them. Well, that didn’t quite turn out. 

So I just decided to write what my kids would say if asked, “Tell Us About Your Mom”

So here it is:

What My Kids Would Say About Me If…

IN ORDER OF BIRTH [have to do it this way or they fight over somebody being a favorite-I don’t have a favorite]

Adam: Uh-I don’t know. Will she read this? Uh-she’s alright, I guess. [smiles and looks over his shoulder like someone is going to jump out and surprise him] Uh-she’s my mom? [says as question, believing it to be a test of right/wrong answers.] Uh…[struggling to think—eyes brighten—big grin] She wrote a book! It’s about—[slumps slightly] uh-a…little girl? [looks at wife] Ah, hell, I don’t know…ask her [points to wife] She knows that stuff.

Anika: Ki**’s great. Oh, you guys call her Kimberly, don’t you? Yeah, she’s cool. She’s my mother-in-law. We actually went out once. To a karaoke bar. I surprisingly had a good time. It was fun. [looks at Adam. Adam shrugs, confused]

Adam/Anika [in unison- yelling into air] JENNA!

~Enter small 6-year-old child with an over abundant amount of brunette hair topped with princess tiara, carrying a frog in one hand and a Barbie in the other. Looks first at Adam and says “Tape this on there, will ya?” Handing him both of her possessions. He obliges.

Jenna: [looking at her mother, confused] What?

Anika: [whispering] Talk about Grammy

Jenna: I LOVE GRAMMY! Can I have my frog back now?

Adam/Anika: [slightly short of unison] NICK! 

Adam: Ask Nick. He’s her favorite.

Nick: She’s alright. SHE thinks she is pretty cool. I guess she is. She wrote a book and it’s published. I read it along time ago, before it was a book-it’s good. She loves playing the Kevin Bacon Game. She is getting senile.  No not really. But she probably will, someday. It’s gonna be great!  We are so gonna mess with her! [looks at Adam. They both nod and snicker. Jonathan lets out a big “ha ha”]

Adam: Oh yeah it is. [high fives Nick and Jonathan]

Anika: [smacks Adam in the shoulder] Stop it Adam! [yells into other room] Hey, Jessica. Come tell stuff about your mom.

Jessica: [enters room with one dangling iPod earplug] MY mom? Oh [smiles sweetly] okay.  She’s great. She’s really pretty. People say I look exactly like her. Oh, not that I think I am pretty, but people say that all the time. I’m not pretty. But she is. She’s a foxy mama. [says with a growl and flirty raised eyebrows] Oh, and she is really easy to scare. We do it all the time. Just stand behind a door and say “BOO”!  She always jumps. She went airborne once. We should have done it on video. Oh, and she wrote a book. It’s really good. And she sings karaoke. Are there prizes for this? Do I keep going? Cause I can. She’s really short. She has really pretty eyes. She dyed her hair blue by accident once. It was super funny. Okay. I’m stopping now. Give Jennifer a turn. I have to go straighten my hair.

Jennifer:  What are we doing? I am NOT playing the Kevin Bacon game. I hate that game. Oh.  Mom? Mom’s awesome. She is always there when I need to talk. We are a lot alike. I write too. I write songs, mostly, but, I have a book started. She does make me pay rent though, which I think is crap. But, I finally got my own room now. With a door. It’s awesome. Wanna see it? [siblings yell at her to talk about their mom- not her room] I was talkin’ about Mom!  She let me move my room out of the basement into her office. That’s awesome. We wrote a song together the other night-well, part of a song- and then she ditched me. She is awesome, though. But, I’m done playing now. I wanna go play my guitar. Ask Nick-he’s her favorite. [told by others that Nick already had a turn] Oh, well then, ask Jonathan-she spoils him!

Jonathan: Oh man! Why are you asking ME? I don’t know. She wrote a book. I have her eyes. But mine are cooler. [Jennifer demands the others yell at him for talking about himself. They remind her she went to go play her guitar-she stomps off “fine I don’t wanna play this game anyway!” The others laugh-more high-fives exchanged]

Jonathan [continues]: Mom is really annoying. [“JONATHAN!” The others yell in unison, except Adam-he snickers-Anika punches him again] Well, she is. I hate it when she says the word “pompous”. And when she tries to talk slang.

Jessica: You think that stuff is funny. You are always making your facebook status stuff she says.

Jonathan: Yeah, she did say “I just try to keep it real” the other day. That was pretty funny. Oh, and remember when she didn’t know what “that’s what he said” meant? And she kept sayin’ over and over- THAT was hilarious. And, how she ends every word with a “y”.  Like thingy and, what did she say the other day? “Facey-book” What the heck?

Oh, but, she did say last night that her and somebody were “really tight” and I told her “NO! DO NOT SAY THAT! Absolutely not!”

Jessica: Who did she say that about?

Jonathan: I don’t know. Her and Ellen, I think-OH no, wait-it was about YOU and Ellen. She was saying since Ellen follows you on Twitter, you guys were really tight. I don’t know. It’s Mom. Whatever!

Jessica: Ellen and I ARE tight. Man, we are like this! [holds up crossed fingers]

Nick: You wish!

Adam: Ellen follows you on TWITTER? What the heck?

Nick: Duh, Adam where have you been?

Anika: Even I knew that!

Adam: Nobody tells me anything

Nick:  You just don’t pay attention

Adam: Shut up, Nick!

Jennifer: [yells from the other room] None of you are talking about Mom!

[in unison]: Yeah we are!

Jennifer: Did you even say Mom wants to BE on Ellen? No, you didn’t.

Nick: Oh yeah, she wants to be on Ellen. But, I ain’t gonna be on TV

Jessica: Whatever Nick. If Mom goes on Ellen, you will too, go.

Nick: I didn’t say I wouldn’t GO- I said I wouldn’t be on TV

Jessica: Heck, I will! I better be on TV!

Jennifer: I am the one who should be on TV!

Jonathan: Not about you, Jennifer!

Adam: Wait! [stands up with hands in air] WAIT! MOM’S GONNA BE ON ELLEN ??

Unison: Shut up, Adam!

Mom (aka, Me-aka, Kimberly) [enters room]: Ooh, what’s going on? Are we playing the  Kevin Bacon game? I’m down!

[Jonathan changes his Facebook status...]

Probably should have called it "Why I Will Never Get on Ellen!" LOL!
P.S.  Ellen really DOES follow my daughter on Twitter! (@jessicaangelina Go check it out!)

That's all 

Until next time,

Kimberly

My Kids are Cooler than Your Kids....

During each of my pregnancies, I had the normal fears. I prayed the baby was healthy, had all it’s fingers and toes, was a boy/girl. You know, all the normal stuff. And I had these normal, thoughts… I hope I don’t gain too much weight. I hope I lose all this weight. But, then…I had this one:  

I hope my kid is cool.

Yes, I thought that. I obsessed over the thought that my child would be a nerd. I feared a dork, even. I know what you are thinking…who IS this woman and HOW could she think this way?

Well, let me tell you.

I was young, but, I was the epitome of “cool”. I listened to the best music, knew the latest dance moves, and could, as previously and publicly stated, I could talk like a leprechaun. 

Armed with a quick wit and an ability to carry on the deepest of conversations, I had a battalion of friends and family and was the "bomb diggity” at most parties. [urban definition of bomb diggity meaning “awesome”, not full-figured.]

So, with all that criteria, of course, I obsessed over the future social standing of my child in public situations.

Well, let me tell you what happened.

Due to my exuberant personality and my approach to parenting, I had the most incredible children. My first two, Adam and Nicholas, were amazing.

Adam was such a little jabberbox, with his own special language, you couldn’t help but love him. You couldn’t understand him, but you had to love him! He was animated and quite the comedian. He played a wicked plastic guitar and was the destined to be the next Evel Knievel the way he handled a Big Wheel.  Thumb sucking and blanket toting, he passed the “cool” test.

The younger of the two, Nicholas [nicknamed Nicky,by my mother AND against my wishes-of course, it stuck], had big blue eyes that would pierce through to my soul. I told my mother when he was born, “I can’t put him down. He is just too cute.” Her advice was quick and fierce. “PUT THAT CHILD DOWN, NOW!” 

I did not.

Six months later, with my Nicky sitting on my foot and clinging to my leg, I called my mother, “This child will NOT let me go anywhere!” As I walked through my apartment, dragging him along, she replied victorious, “I told  you so”. Hence our love for Randy Travis began.  

He was covering Randy Travis songs by the time he was 2 years old with such compassion and heart, I would melt at the sound of it.  And he could understand Adam, so I was finally able to communicate with him, as well. That made my Nicky even more amazing and, therefore, he passed the “cool” test.

Next in the line-up-and formally known as “The Girls”.

My first, Jessica, a princess at birth, was called precocious by my OB/GYN. That comment came after a statement she made to him about seeing her mother naked. [“boy was my face red” moment] She was known in our circle of friends and family for her long blonde locks that, if stretched to capacity, would have been taller than her. She had the Barbie vanity and used it daily to make herself “beaut-ful”. 

She adored Bill Clinton and aspired to marry him. Bizarre watching a two-year-old fly from another room, ditching Barbie and various Little Mermaid paraphernalia in her wake, to perch in front of the television just because she heard his voice. When I asked her why she wanted to be the President’s wife, she thoughtfully changed her goal and said, “No, I will be The President. (at 2 ½ she had the role of his wife figured out)

While my father and her lovingly played with her new Barbies one Christmas, Dad, being Dad, told her “boys toys are more fun than girl ones”. Without missing a beat, and leaving him speechless, she replied, “Well, girls are smarter than boys.” She passed the “cool” test.

Enter daughter #2!  Jennifer! She cried, she screamed, she had colic! OH MY GOD! This is the one, I thought. This is the one who will be…well, anyway.

If I needed a babysitter, I had to pretend she would nap the whole time I was gone. My father, who is the most wonderful man the universe, would ask “Jennifer, too?” I could always hear the fear in his voice. She frightened all of us, as well. 

As she grew into toddlerhood, the screaming stopped. Only to be replaced with a little OCD and some traces of narcissism. [hats off to anyone suffering from either disorder-no disrespect intended.]

When she wasn’t cleaning everything-running around saying “uckky” to each microscopic piece of paper on the floor-she was telling us that she was prettier and smarter than everyone in the whole world. Many lessons were given on vanity, bragging, and the fact that I was the parent.

But, through it all, she emerged an adorable five-year-old and the family entertainer. She would climb up on top of the kitchen table and sing to us, making up the words as she went. She developed a strong empathy toward animals of all kinds, bringing home a broken baby bird egg to bury and capturing a wounded crow that she named Midnight. [*Note to Adam: you still owe your sister a parrot for agreeing to let it go, but thank you!]

Once while at dinner, she swatted and, to her horror, killed a fly. Carefully scooping it up and grabbing the garden spade from under the sink, she ran off to her makeshift cemetery in our backyard. We waited for her. We knew better not to. Suddenly her voice rang in, through the open kitchen window,

“Somebody gonna come out here while I sing or what?” 

It was more of a demand, but she passed the “cool” test. [she will probably read this and I am still afraid of her so, yeah, well anyway…]

And then, finally, the baby was born. [I know, right…How many kids ARE there? Last one…]

I named him Jonathan. Now, he was just born cool. He was the quietest, calmest, most cuddly baby, EVER! As he grew out of infancy and into being a little boy, he breathed more of the same. He had baby tricks. Being the youngest of five, he was constantly being talked to, played with, and “trained”.  

Adam and Nicky [known after this point as Nick-*sad face*] taught him to spell carbohydrate off the back of the cereal box when he was 3. [bingo ladies "awed" over him at the grocery store] Jennifer had him convinced he was her dog and would take him for walks. [complete with leash and an occasional “bark”] and he could imitate Clint Eastwood “Make my day”, with thumb/finger gun and Jim Carrey “Smokin’”, with the funniest expression known to man. He truly was like having a puppy but he didn’t pee on the floor.

He passed the “cool” test.

And so, after 27 years of motherhood, I can say, I worried for nothing. My kids are cool! 

But, where are they now, you ask? [pics over to the right and up or down)

Well, Adam didn’t turn into Evel Knievel-he lost his license as a habitual offender for speeding. On a happy note though, he is the epitome of cool to his two little kids and new wife. Outfitted in plaid golf shorts and a few ugly facial piercings he can be found riding his 3-wheel bike down to our local river to fish [or in the words of Stephen Wright, “to stand on the bank, looking like an idiot.”] 

He never catches much and pretty sure he still sucks his thumb.

Nick, as he prefers to be called, once aspired to have the most college degrees or to be computer hacker. He did neither one. He dabbles in penny stocks, works full-time, comes over every Sunday and says he can’t wait for my Alzheimer’s to go full bore. “I’m gonna so pretend I don’t know you.” He tells all the time and then laughs[insert evil Nicky laugh]

I burst his bubble when I tell him I won’t remember that.

Jessica is beautiful and quirky.  She thinks Will Ferrell is sexy, has favorite aisles at Wal-mart [laundry soap & and towels["cause they are so colorful"], and when most people are scrambling to get to the safety of their homes, during a tornado, she is looking for her keys to go chase it.   

She is also the most caring person I know. But, there is a downside. She cries a lot! She cried when Ace young got kicked off American Idol, when old people mow their own grass, and when she sees an Oompa Loompa.[ I know, we ALL cried when Ace Young left]

But, a lover of anything Irish, McDonald’s sweet tea and music, she can often be found driving around, with her IPod, searching for a Mickey D’s. And, if you want to know ANY song lyrics, just ask Jessica.[except Nickelback-they make her nauseous]

Jennifer? 

Well, she is a singer/songwriter who plays guitar[self-taught] and wants to move to Nashville someday. She is also working on her first novel, a paranormal tale, that she won’t let me read[insert big sad face] She has her days and nights mixed up, except on payday when she is up by noon. Other days she’s usually up just in time to make it to work so we don’t see her much.  

My favorite music to listen to while I write, is hers!

We are all, still, basically, afraid of her.

Jonathan? Well, at fourteen, he and his girlfriend at the time, announced they were going to have a baby. WOW! FOURTEEN! Yes. I know. My mother yelled at me for not talking to him about it. I told her I did talk to them both, about it, but, ultimately, I wasn’t there at the time of decision, so what can you do? I chose the happy road. No sense being mad for 9 months. Flip a switch and get happy? No. I chose happy. Happy, as life could always be worse.   

Sadly, their relationship didn’t take the happy road and they split up shortly after the birth of their beautiful daughter, Natalie. [featured in the video on this blog]

And now, he is the best father since my own. 

At 17, he shares physical custody, 50-50, with Natalie’s mother. They live with me, but he is the dad. He is the giver of baths, the preparer of meals, and the teacher of rules. At 17, he is a great father. [told ya he was born cool]

Except, there is one thing. He doesn’t think Chuck Norris jokes are funny. What is wrong with him? How can you not think Chuck Norris jokes are funny? 

Chuck Norris, after all, is the reason Waldo is hiding! How amazing is that? [kudos here to Chuck Norris joke guy who thought up that one-I don’t know who you are, but WOW! That is funny shi*]

So, what is my purpose here?

Did  I miss a memo? Is there a purpose? 

Well, crap.

I just think my kids are cool. Sorry!

Until next time,

Kimberly