I post on several different blogs, each with its own general subject. Occasionally the tone or topic from one blog entry spills over onto another.
Recently, on a writer’s forum, I got into an unpleasant discussion over self-publishing. The individual on the other side of the computer, claimed to have nothing disparagingly to say about self-publishers, yet she had pages of negative comments about the practice.
She was under the impression I was attempting to lure all writers blindly into self-publishing, encouraging them to turn their backs on traditional publishers.
The truth is, I don’t believe self-publishing is for every writer. But I am an advocate of self-publishing in that it is an ideal solution for some writers.
This blog was inspired by Motherhood. A book of poems we published under our publishing label, Robeth Publishing. In essence, it is a self-published book, after all, I am the person behind Robeth Publishing, LLC. This is a fact I have always been open about.
I wrote the poems, which were inspired by my children. My daughter, Elizabeth, a professional graphic artist, designed the book, which was her senior project at the San Diego Art Institute.
We sell the book, but our customers must order it online, at Lulu.com, which is the printer. It is a print on demand book.
If you would like to browse through the book, click here.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Baby Books
Our daughter called this evening, asking what her blood type was. It was a question born of curiosity, she wasn’t on the way to the doctors. And I suppose most mothers would have an answer. But I don’t even know my own blood type.
When she moved from home I gave Elizabeth her medical and immunization records. Apparently there was nothing about blood type in the papers, so she wanted me to look through her baby book (which I still have in my possession).
Maybe I failed when it came to blood types, but I did a fair job with her baby book. Often the second child ends up with an empty baby book, while the older sibling is carefully recorded.
There was nothing about her blood type in the book, but I found some interesting memorabilia. It’s been a while since I’ve browsed through the book, yet I was surprised at some of the keepsakes I found. Several I did not remember at all.
One was a carefully charted list of my contractions, when they occurred, and how long, all in my husband’s handwriting. He wrote that I was admitted to the hospital at 2 a.m., one hour and five minutes after contractions began. I hadn’t remembered he’d done that.
There was also the baby pool, where members of the family guessed the baby’s weight, each throwing money into the pot. Mom won, guessing 9 pounds 9 ounces. Elizabeth actually weighed 9 pounds, 15 ounces. Apparently Mom had guessed the highest weight.
Well, that little baby girl is getting married in September. And in a week or so, we will be driving to California to attend her bridal shower.
When she moved from home I gave Elizabeth her medical and immunization records. Apparently there was nothing about blood type in the papers, so she wanted me to look through her baby book (which I still have in my possession).
Maybe I failed when it came to blood types, but I did a fair job with her baby book. Often the second child ends up with an empty baby book, while the older sibling is carefully recorded.
There was nothing about her blood type in the book, but I found some interesting memorabilia. It’s been a while since I’ve browsed through the book, yet I was surprised at some of the keepsakes I found. Several I did not remember at all.
One was a carefully charted list of my contractions, when they occurred, and how long, all in my husband’s handwriting. He wrote that I was admitted to the hospital at 2 a.m., one hour and five minutes after contractions began. I hadn’t remembered he’d done that.
There was also the baby pool, where members of the family guessed the baby’s weight, each throwing money into the pot. Mom won, guessing 9 pounds 9 ounces. Elizabeth actually weighed 9 pounds, 15 ounces. Apparently Mom had guessed the highest weight.
Well, that little baby girl is getting married in September. And in a week or so, we will be driving to California to attend her bridal shower.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Mothers and their grown babies
It is Saturday afternoon and I’m at home, trying to write. Mom lives with my husband and me. On Saturdays Don usually heads to the office, and recently I've begun to stay home, spending the day writing, and taking dips in the pool. And visiting with Mom.
Of course, when I’m trying to write, it’s not the best time for a visit. A few minutes ago, she was sitting in the rocking chair, watching me write, and offering distracting comments. Jokingly I suggested a new policy. I would hang a sock on the den’s door. That would mean she could come it, but the sock had to go into her mouth. If the sock was not on the door, she could come in, and feel free to visit.
I don’t think she liked the idea. She then went to get the mail, and brought me mine. She paused a moment, and gave me a hug.
A week or so ago, while in Portland, attending our son’s wedding, I had an “episode”, which landed me in the hospital. To make a long story short (as goes the cliché) I had a sudden case of vertigo, where my world started to spin, and kept doing so for about five hours.
The doctors said it could either be a mini-stroke or an inner ear infection. After a series of tests, the consensus was inner ear, not a stroke. Yet, mom was at the hospital with us, and apparently (unknown to me at the time) falling apart. Her “baby” was in the hospital, and it could possibly be serious.
Anyway…a few minutes ago she hugged me, and I teased her about me being her baby. (A 53 year old baby). She told me, in a whimsical sort of way, "when you were a little girl, I just loved you so much."
Loved? I asked? Don’t you still?
She paused a moment, remembering that little girl, with feathery thin hair, provoking people to ask why I didn’t any, which only incensed the overly protective mother.
In one moment Mom expressed how deeply she loved that little girl.
And in the next moment, she told me how she loved me more.
Mothers. Our children will always be our babies.
Of course, when I’m trying to write, it’s not the best time for a visit. A few minutes ago, she was sitting in the rocking chair, watching me write, and offering distracting comments. Jokingly I suggested a new policy. I would hang a sock on the den’s door. That would mean she could come it, but the sock had to go into her mouth. If the sock was not on the door, she could come in, and feel free to visit.
I don’t think she liked the idea. She then went to get the mail, and brought me mine. She paused a moment, and gave me a hug.
A week or so ago, while in Portland, attending our son’s wedding, I had an “episode”, which landed me in the hospital. To make a long story short (as goes the cliché) I had a sudden case of vertigo, where my world started to spin, and kept doing so for about five hours.
The doctors said it could either be a mini-stroke or an inner ear infection. After a series of tests, the consensus was inner ear, not a stroke. Yet, mom was at the hospital with us, and apparently (unknown to me at the time) falling apart. Her “baby” was in the hospital, and it could possibly be serious.
Anyway…a few minutes ago she hugged me, and I teased her about me being her baby. (A 53 year old baby). She told me, in a whimsical sort of way, "when you were a little girl, I just loved you so much."
Loved? I asked? Don’t you still?
She paused a moment, remembering that little girl, with feathery thin hair, provoking people to ask why I didn’t any, which only incensed the overly protective mother.
In one moment Mom expressed how deeply she loved that little girl.
And in the next moment, she told me how she loved me more.
Mothers. Our children will always be our babies.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The brother and sister,
who were in our house
Our daughter and her fiancé were in our son’s wedding on July 14. Our son and his new bride will be in our daughter’s September wedding. When I first heard they would be getting married just months apart, I joked about a double wedding. Of course, I never considered the possibility. As close as they are, they are two very different people, planning weddings unique to their personalities, and their significant others’.But, they are close. They have always had a special bond. Which inspired me to post the following poem, from my book of poetry, Motherhood.
Beyond childish teasing,
and normal fights,
is a friendship
that shines bright.
Sharing laughter
or a special toy.
Loving the other,
girl and boy.
Joining forces,
conquering foes,
creating games
when the other’s low.
Vowing solemnly,
“She’ll play if you want me”.
Helping the other
to climb a tree.
Though friendship’s the trend,
they occasionally grouse,
the brother and sister,
within our house.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Grandparents....sorta
Our son posted a picture of himself and his dog on MySpace. The caption was “Me and the Kid”. The dog is a mini-pincher, no puppy, although don’t tell him because he is a bit of a baby. He loves to spend his days snuggling on my daughter-in-law's lap or hiding under the covers.
His name is Kronk, and he belonged to my daughter-in-law’s sister, who was killed tragically in a car accident, last November. Scott and his then fiancé adopted Kronk, and have fallen in love with the pint size canine.
Kronk was even a member of the wedding party, the most formally dressed, wearing the only bow tie.
So, no grandkids for now, but I do have a sweet grandpuppy.
Our daughter insists we are also grandparents to her parakeet, Crackers. I tell her I know our cat will also love Crackers.
She is not amused.
His name is Kronk, and he belonged to my daughter-in-law’s sister, who was killed tragically in a car accident, last November. Scott and his then fiancé adopted Kronk, and have fallen in love with the pint size canine.
Kronk was even a member of the wedding party, the most formally dressed, wearing the only bow tie.
So, no grandkids for now, but I do have a sweet grandpuppy.
Our daughter insists we are also grandparents to her parakeet, Crackers. I tell her I know our cat will also love Crackers.
She is not amused.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Never tell them the rabbit died
Animal rights advocates will advise young parents to not purchase live bunnies or baby chicks for their children at Easter time. Youngsters have a limited attention span for seasonal pets, and most children aren't equipped to be pet owners, no matter what the season.
I'm an avid animal lover, and in spite of those warnings, when I was a young mother I foolishly succumbed to the temptation and brought home a little baby bunny, which we named (not so originally) Thumper.
To be honest, neither my husband nor I can recall the circumstances of that particular pet purchase, yet it was not the most thought out thing we've ever done. He'd have to be an outdoor pet, for bunny hair is a bit like cat hair, and both of our children, and my husband are allergic.
Over time I began to regret our purchase, yet that did not stop us from attempting to make Thumper's existence a pleasant one. My husband built a nice large hutch, and I (driven from guilt) made sure he had lots of yummy treats. When possible we'd let Thumper out in the back yard, to run around on the lawn. Yet, the outing seemed to make him nervous, and only served to appease my guilt for keeping this poor animal locked alone in a large hutch.
Our kids would visit the bunny when they were in the back yard, by standing by the hutch and occasionally feeding him carrots through the wired wall. Yet, I wasn't about to compound my guilt and torment the poor bunny, by allowing two young children to drag him around the yard.
One year, when we went on vacation, there was a monsoon like storm that hit our little mountain community of Wrightwood California. Our rear yard backed up to Heath Creek, and the heavy rains filled the creek, and flooded our yard, burying the bottom two or three feet of our fence in silt.
The bunny hutch was located in the back yard and was fortunately on stilts. But when we came home from vacation, it was now sitting on the newly elevated ground. We were grateful it did not flood the hutch completely, and bury the poor bunny.
Thumper survived for a few more years after the flood. But one day, when my husband was leaving for work, he discovered Thumper had died during the night.
Our two young children cried, and my husband buried Thumper in the back yard.
I was sad, but in some selfish way, a little relieved. I could take down the hutch, and no longer worry over the next monsoon. I'd learned my lesson, a bunny was not the appropriate pet for our family.
After the morning burial, my husband went off to work, and I went off to do what stay-at-home moms did in the 1980's.
But when my husband returned home that night, he had a very sheepish look on his face, and immediately started to apologize. Apparently, he had made the mistake of telling the women in his office how the family bunny died during the night. To make matters worse, he told them about how his two young children cried over the loss of Thumper.
After lunch that day, the well meaning women he worked with brought my husband a gift. A baby lop ear bunny. Of course, he didn't have the heart to tell them we had no intentions of getting another bunny.
We named him Bambi.
I'm an avid animal lover, and in spite of those warnings, when I was a young mother I foolishly succumbed to the temptation and brought home a little baby bunny, which we named (not so originally) Thumper.
To be honest, neither my husband nor I can recall the circumstances of that particular pet purchase, yet it was not the most thought out thing we've ever done. He'd have to be an outdoor pet, for bunny hair is a bit like cat hair, and both of our children, and my husband are allergic.
Over time I began to regret our purchase, yet that did not stop us from attempting to make Thumper's existence a pleasant one. My husband built a nice large hutch, and I (driven from guilt) made sure he had lots of yummy treats. When possible we'd let Thumper out in the back yard, to run around on the lawn. Yet, the outing seemed to make him nervous, and only served to appease my guilt for keeping this poor animal locked alone in a large hutch.
Our kids would visit the bunny when they were in the back yard, by standing by the hutch and occasionally feeding him carrots through the wired wall. Yet, I wasn't about to compound my guilt and torment the poor bunny, by allowing two young children to drag him around the yard.
One year, when we went on vacation, there was a monsoon like storm that hit our little mountain community of Wrightwood California. Our rear yard backed up to Heath Creek, and the heavy rains filled the creek, and flooded our yard, burying the bottom two or three feet of our fence in silt.
The bunny hutch was located in the back yard and was fortunately on stilts. But when we came home from vacation, it was now sitting on the newly elevated ground. We were grateful it did not flood the hutch completely, and bury the poor bunny.
Thumper survived for a few more years after the flood. But one day, when my husband was leaving for work, he discovered Thumper had died during the night.
Our two young children cried, and my husband buried Thumper in the back yard.
I was sad, but in some selfish way, a little relieved. I could take down the hutch, and no longer worry over the next monsoon. I'd learned my lesson, a bunny was not the appropriate pet for our family.
After the morning burial, my husband went off to work, and I went off to do what stay-at-home moms did in the 1980's.
But when my husband returned home that night, he had a very sheepish look on his face, and immediately started to apologize. Apparently, he had made the mistake of telling the women in his office how the family bunny died during the night. To make matters worse, he told them about how his two young children cried over the loss of Thumper.
After lunch that day, the well meaning women he worked with brought my husband a gift. A baby lop ear bunny. Of course, he didn't have the heart to tell them we had no intentions of getting another bunny.
We named him Bambi.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Our daughter is getting married!
I arrive home from our son’s wedding, and what do I find in the mail? The invitation to our daughter’s wedding!
Her moment is coming quickly, just a few weeks until the shower, and then the big day. It is a little mind spinning thinking of our two children tying the knot within months of each other.
Which may explain my recent bout of vertigo. That head spinning thing.
Her moment is coming quickly, just a few weeks until the shower, and then the big day. It is a little mind spinning thinking of our two children tying the knot within months of each other.
Which may explain my recent bout of vertigo. That head spinning thing.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Our son's wedding day
Our firstborn was married on Monday; our son.I remember the day when grooms rarely participated in the wedding planning. It was if they said “tell me when to be there, and I’ll show up.” Things like the wedding cake, flowers, and what type of music to play while walking down the aisle was left up to the bride.
Not so for our son. Together he and his bride carefully planned an exceptional, non-traditional, and amazingly magical day. The day was uniquely theirs, and reflected their personalities, and the love they share.
Family and friends were swept up in the magic. If the bride and groom have even half the fun during their future days together, as we had on their wedding day, they are sure to enjoy a spectacularly fun filled life.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tongue Piercing, a Mother's View
When my son was in high school he announced he wanted to get his tongue pierced. This was when the practice was not as common as it is today. So naturally, I was horrified, but I also knew the fastest way to get a child to do something is to tell him not to.
I decided to ask our pediatrician's help in dissuading our son in eventually piercing his tongue. I asked the doctor if he could please share with my son, and myself, any medical reason why not to pierce his tongue. The doctor just shrugged, and said no big deal. He was absolutely no help whatsoever.
After failing with the doctor, I took another approach. I explained to our son that when he was eighteen , and living on his own, he had every right to pierce and tattoo to his heart's content. Until that time, no piercing or tattoos. Miraculously, our son respected our wishes.
When he turned eighteen, and was on his own, our son pieced his tongue, among other things, and began a tattooing odyssey that continues today.
I now know that it was the dentist I should have asked, not the doctor. As time went on, I learned from a friend, who is a dental hygienist, that mouth jewelry can damage the teeth's enamel. I thought about all the money I put into our children's teeth for braces.
When our son was in his mid-twenties he came for a visit and I noticed he'd removed his tongue stud. I asked him about it, and he explained that he'd chipped a tooth, again. He told me he finally realized it was pretty stupid to keep wearing it, since it was ruining his teeth.
I never learned how many times he actually chipped his teeth on the mouth jewelry, I don't think I wanted to know. But, I'll admit I was happy he finally removed it.
That was a few years ago. Recently a family member called to tell me her eighteen year old son had pieced his tongue. She was pretty upset. I asked her if she'd explained to him the damage the mouth jewelry might cause his teeth, (something I foolishly hadn't thought about when I was faced with that possibility).
Her answer was the affirmative, which led me to ask the question, even if I had thought to ask the dentist, instead of the doctor, would our son have listened? Would it have stopped him?
Probably not. Some things just need to be learned from experience.
I decided to ask our pediatrician's help in dissuading our son in eventually piercing his tongue. I asked the doctor if he could please share with my son, and myself, any medical reason why not to pierce his tongue. The doctor just shrugged, and said no big deal. He was absolutely no help whatsoever.
After failing with the doctor, I took another approach. I explained to our son that when he was eighteen , and living on his own, he had every right to pierce and tattoo to his heart's content. Until that time, no piercing or tattoos. Miraculously, our son respected our wishes.
When he turned eighteen, and was on his own, our son pieced his tongue, among other things, and began a tattooing odyssey that continues today.
I now know that it was the dentist I should have asked, not the doctor. As time went on, I learned from a friend, who is a dental hygienist, that mouth jewelry can damage the teeth's enamel. I thought about all the money I put into our children's teeth for braces.
When our son was in his mid-twenties he came for a visit and I noticed he'd removed his tongue stud. I asked him about it, and he explained that he'd chipped a tooth, again. He told me he finally realized it was pretty stupid to keep wearing it, since it was ruining his teeth.
I never learned how many times he actually chipped his teeth on the mouth jewelry, I don't think I wanted to know. But, I'll admit I was happy he finally removed it.
That was a few years ago. Recently a family member called to tell me her eighteen year old son had pieced his tongue. She was pretty upset. I asked her if she'd explained to him the damage the mouth jewelry might cause his teeth, (something I foolishly hadn't thought about when I was faced with that possibility).
Her answer was the affirmative, which led me to ask the question, even if I had thought to ask the dentist, instead of the doctor, would our son have listened? Would it have stopped him?
Probably not. Some things just need to be learned from experience.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Generating Income from home
I’ve always been an advocate of stay at home moms or dads. I understand it is not always possible for one parent to stay at home with their child, and with such a high rate of single parents, it is almost impossible.
But, now with the Internet there are amazing new opportunities for the stay at home parent, who would like (or needs) to generate some income. I would have loved some of these programs when I was a young, stay at home mom.
Actually, I was a stay at home mom who worked from home, because I had my own business. When my children were a little older, I had an office downtown (in the small mountain village where we were living). Across the street was the elementary school, and next door was the Montessori Nursery School. Our son was in the elementary school, so after school he could walk to my office, and my daughter was next door at the nursery school. Not only could I walk next door to get her, I could look out my office window and watch her play. For the time, it was a great compromise.
For those stay at home parents, and even for those who simply wish to work from home and avoid long commutes and high gas prices, check out http://www.workplacelikehome.com . It is a great site with loads of valuable information, cutting through the scams and spam.
P.S. - And yes, I understand that parents who stay home to raise a family are working, even if they aren't generating income from that job!
But, now with the Internet there are amazing new opportunities for the stay at home parent, who would like (or needs) to generate some income. I would have loved some of these programs when I was a young, stay at home mom.
Actually, I was a stay at home mom who worked from home, because I had my own business. When my children were a little older, I had an office downtown (in the small mountain village where we were living). Across the street was the elementary school, and next door was the Montessori Nursery School. Our son was in the elementary school, so after school he could walk to my office, and my daughter was next door at the nursery school. Not only could I walk next door to get her, I could look out my office window and watch her play. For the time, it was a great compromise.
For those stay at home parents, and even for those who simply wish to work from home and avoid long commutes and high gas prices, check out http://www.workplacelikehome.com . It is a great site with loads of valuable information, cutting through the scams and spam.
P.S. - And yes, I understand that parents who stay home to raise a family are working, even if they aren't generating income from that job!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Top Ten Friends at MySpace
Life is good for this mom…I am now in my son’s top ten list at MySpace. I used to be in his top ten, then one day I noticed, he moved me! Suddenly I was lost in his sea of 350+ online friends, buried deep in the pages.
Of course I was insulted…a little hurt. After all, I did give that kid birth!
So I began my campaign of pleading (begging) my case. His response, a laugh and “get over it.”
But something must of happened, suddenly I am again in his top ten.
Was about time!
Of course I was insulted…a little hurt. After all, I did give that kid birth!
So I began my campaign of pleading (begging) my case. His response, a laugh and “get over it.”
But something must of happened, suddenly I am again in his top ten.
Was about time!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The wedding is almost here
In a week we leave for Portland Oregon, to attend our son’s wedding. It seems like just a brief moment ago I was writing the poems for Motherhood. Scott was a preschooler, and at the time my life revolved around our two children.
But, time moves on, and my eldest is moving into a new phase of his life. This morning I read one of his MySpace bulletins, where he expressed his excitement at marrying the love of his life.
Of all the things we wish for our children, love and happiness tops the list. And it seems; he is enjoying both.
What more could a mother ask for?
But, time moves on, and my eldest is moving into a new phase of his life. This morning I read one of his MySpace bulletins, where he expressed his excitement at marrying the love of his life.
Of all the things we wish for our children, love and happiness tops the list. And it seems; he is enjoying both.
What more could a mother ask for?
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