It's Just A Movie!

On my way into Philly today, to take my daughter to her camp, I heard about an upcoming story on the NPR News Show, Tell Me More. The story focused on the new movie, Orphan, about a couple who lose a second baby (or a third) and decide to adopt. Unfortunately, the adopted child turns out to be Rosemary's Baby re-incarnated or maybe just Rosemary's granddaughter, I don't know. Anyway, the Tell Me More story discussed how the movie has struck a nerve because it sends a bad message about adoptees.

Seriously? It's a flippin' movie! Did women stop having babies after Rosemary's Baby?

I get so tired of people jumping on bandwagons and raging against the evil Hollywood machine without thinking it through first. People who want to adopt aren't going to see the movie and say, "Well, we were thinking of adoption, but then we saw this totally fabricated movie and realized our child would probably be the devil."

And, as for giving adoptees a bad name, do you really think that's going to happen? Are people that shallow? I can't imagine people suddenly looking at my son (who is from Guatemala) and believe that he is evil.

I wonder if stories that focus on this drivel help clear it up? Or do they encourage people to stand up and protest everything and anything without thinking?

Does every little thing need to be a discussion? Can't we just rifle through the facts: movie, made-up, from Hollywood, horror flick, and dismiss it? I am offended that these protesters do not believe that I can think critically for myself. Do they feel that I'm so shallow that I'm easily swayed by a character from a movie? Umm, I may just have answered my own question.

Day Tripping

Brian and I took the kids to Dorney Park and Wildwater Kingdom yesterday. It's an amusement park and water park all in one. I may have heard of it before but it never registered on my radar until Friday, when a neighbor mentioned that his kids had gone. When I found out about it, I marched home and declared that we should go on Sunday. That's how we roll; we either do something immediately or it sits on the shelf in our brain and we repeat, mantra-like, "We really ought to go to (fill in the blank)."

The trip became more poignant when I found out that my mother had been admitted to the hospital on Friday evening because she had been throwing up. She was on a trip in California with my sister and nieces. Once at the hospital, they wanted to keep her for tests. Turns out she had a mild (if one can call it that) heart attack. She's elderly and has been through a lot in the past few years. She's in good spirits and is recovering nicely; so nicely in fact that she can return home to Vermont as planned. Anyway, with that knowledge, I kept thinking, as we walked around the park, these are the memories my children will cherish, I just want this to be a perfect day.

While I had never really been to an amusement park before, I remember waiting anxiously for each August when the Champlain Valley Fair rolled around. I went with family or friends, and we would buy the bracelets that allowed us unlimited rides. I went on the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Scrambler, the Musik Express. A few years ago, I began visiting my mom in late August with my kids and we went to the fair; they call it "Grammy's Fair." My pristine memories of childhood rides became richer and thicker watching my kids enjoy the same rides I did.

At Dorney Park, we compared the rides with those at Grammy's Fair, some were the same, some a bit different. Dorney Park, however, boasts at least 5 roller coasters. I don't remember the roller coasters at my fair because I never went on them; the Tilt-a-Whirl makes me a bit sick. Well, Brian sure remembers roller coasters from his youth because he wanted to go on all of them. And, my daughter went with him. I was shocked. When my daughter was young, she avoided all haunted houses by at least 10 feet, and she couldn't even watch MGM movies because she was afraid of the lion's roar at the beginning of the film. Yet, here she was, going on huge roller coasters that shot you up into the air and hung you upside down. And she loved it!

We had a great day. Even the couple of rain showers did not mar our day. Later, I called my mom and told her about the park and how we compared it to Grammy's Fair. She loved hearing about the kids and loved that they remembered "her fair." We'll be going up to see her in Vermont soon. Unfortunately, we won't be there for the fair as I'll have to start rehearsals in mid-August. But we made some great memories yesterday and they'll be added to the catalogue filed under fair, rides, roller coasters and of course Grammy.

Theme Thursday: SHOE

These shoes are made for running,

and that's just what they'll do.

One of these days, these shoes are

gonna run 26.2.

Summer is How Long?

I sewed today...actually sewed. The kids' stuffed animals all had boo-boos; 10 and 7 years old and my kids still love their stuffed animals (actually I hope they always do). I think I'm getting a bit bored.

When summer began, I kept thinking it would be over too soon and I needed to relish every moment of it. I luxuriated in the boredom of the lazy summer days; long afternoons at the pool, trips to the library, movies for the family. Now, I'm sewing. I think it's time for the next production.

This is why I'm so suited to theater--productions never last more than a couple of months, right when I'm getting bored with it. I start a show and I'm all excited and nervous and a bit stressed about juggling family and theater; finding sitters, planning dinners, taping the stage, getting to know the actors. Then I get to know the actors and their quirks and we're into tech where I spend days in a dark room getting to know the design team and hoping my family has learned how to forage for food. The show opens and I have a bit more time which I plan on using to straighten up the house (when in reality, I use the free time to catch up on movies). The show is still fun and I enjoy the repartee with the actors (whom I've pretty much ignored during tech week). Then it's the final week and I'm so looking forward to closing night. While the actors want to enjoy a post-show drink and discussion in the green room, I become like Nurse Ratchett getting them off to bed. "Take your medicine and go! I don't want to be here any longer than I have to!"

After the show closes, I stay home and bake and clean and cook and enjoy every minute of it. FOR A DAY. Okay, maybe a bit longer but I always end up getting antsy. Is this it? Didn't I just do laundry? What do you mean you're hungry, I thought we ate already? And right when I'm about to re-arrange the glasses in the kitchen-cabinet, a show starts and I settle down once again.

Some people have seasonal rituals; they welcome each season by airing out the beds or packing away the winter clothes. I guess I have dramatic rituals...in every possible sense of the word.

Sell Yourself Short!

I arise at 6 am with a smile on my face, exercise, shower, then gently wake up my children who also smile. We enjoy each other's company over a nutritious breakfast of homemade muesli.

Okay, NOT. There's no smile, hardly any exercise, and homemade breakfast? You've got to be kidding me!

Lately, I've been on this jag of trying to accept that my life isn't going to be like the "ideal" picture that I've concocted in my head. As I've said before, my lawn isn't going to be gorgeous and I'm not going to be so organized that everything gets done and no dust will ever enter my house.

Of course, it doesn't stop me from comparing my life to others when I see moms who bake goodies for the last day of school while keeping their house spotless and volunteering numerous hours at school. (And yeah, they dress well too.)

But luckily for me there is the Internet and my favorite thing to interact with in the morning--and it's not my kids who are probably grouchier than I am--the New York Times where I found this great post on the Domestic Disturbances blog. It's all about getting older, lowering our expectations, and accepting our lives. My favorite image is of Judith Warner spilling coffee down her shirt as she yells at her children to get up. I've been there.

Then I just read this post on another NY Times blog called Happy Days, about how the Danes are the happiest nation on earth. I really don't know how you can measure happiness but there you go. Anyway, the post explains that the Danes have low expectations so they are pretty happy with what they have. Granted this post is slightly different from Ms. Warner's post but it has the same theme; if we expect less of ourselves and society, we'll probably be much happier.

And, it makes sense: if I stop expecting to get up with a smile on my face, I might just enjoy the morning more.

Lowering my expectations has come in handy in the past, I just hadn't realized that I had been doing it. When I ran the Broad Street Run (all 10 miles of it), my only thought was: let me finish, I'd like to do it in a 10 minute/mile pace but finishing is good enough. Imagine how happy I was that I finished the race in LESS than a 10 minute/mile pace. In case you can't imagine it, I was pretty damn happy!


I think I'm going to sell myself short so that when I meet or exceed expectations, I'll be pleasantly surprised. Of course, I still want to know about those moms who bake all those goodies, make all the beds in the house and still have time to volunteer at school. But that's the subject of another post, which I may or may not write. I could commit to one post about it but don't hold me to it; I'm certainly not going to hold myself to it.

I Am The Joneses

Several years ago Brian and I were discussing a couple that we knew (not very well) that a friend of ours described as always trying to "keep up with the Joneses" or do them one better. If a neighbor bought a fancy-new grill, they had to buy an even fancier one. Things like that. I remarked well, actually I ranted to Brian that it must be "so stressful trying to keep up with the neighbors" and "who has time?" and "who gets to decide who the Joneses are anyway?" (I think I might have felt a bit insecure about our own grill). But that's when I decided that I was going to be the Joneses and everyone else would have to keep up with me.

For Christmas that year, Brian made me an I Am the Joneses T-shirt. Here's a picture of it:

FRONT: BACK:

I bring it up now because I need to channel my inner-Joneses again, only this time regarding my lawn. I live in a neighborhood of beautiful yards. Granted, several of these yards belonged to older couples who are retired or who do not have young children so they have more time to work on the lawn. But, even when my kids leave the nest, I won't be weeding; I'll be doing what I do every Sunday, namely the crossword puzzle.

It doesn't stop me, however, from feeling inadequate about my lawn. 'Perhaps,' I think as I sharpen my pencil, 'I should get out there and edge or prune or mulch or whatever one does to make a yard look nice.' I've even gotten as far as the garage before I realize how much I hate mowing let alone edging, pruning or mulching so I come up with an excuse and retreat to the porch and then stare at the beautiful gardens surrounding me.

But how productive is worrying about my yard when I know I'm not going to do anything about it? Honestly, I can be a good person without having a gorgeous lawn. In fact, I'm a better person because I'm not cranky from mulching. Sure, my neighbors have lovely yards but can they finish the New York Times Crossword puzzle in one day? I think not so I'm declaring a new order:

• It's time to re-think our priorities.


• It's time to forget about the petty chores that fill our day.


• It's time to sit our butts down with a pencil and the paper.


• It's time to be the Joneses.

All The World: Random Thoughts on Stage, Theme Thursday

Now, wasn't there a famous playwright who wrote, All the world's a stage and the men and women merely players? As I approached this theme Thursday I had no idea what to write about because my career has been so closely associated with theatrical stages. Do I write about different types of stages or the stages of a theatrical production or maybe just stages of life?

Then, my sister wrote to me about her idea about the theme and I realized how intricately linked the stages of life are to theater. Yeah, I know probably quite obvious to most people but sometimes I need a slap to the head. Mr. Shakespeare designates seven stages of life but what's left out or perhaps implied is how we get from one stage to another; that's where the drama of life lies and the drama of theater as well.

When we attend theater, we are seeing characters at a certain stage of their life. We're introduced to them "in medias life" so to speak. The characters we encounter have lived through several stages already; the mewling puking baby, the whining schoolboy, perhaps ever the lover if we are to use Mr. Shakespeare's descriptions. The backstory of the character is shaped by these stages as determined by the actor. And, the play we watch presents us with these characters dealing with yet another stage of their life.

My sister's description of her stage of life really clarified this idea for me: widow with a 20-year old son, should be getting ready for retirement. But, much to her dismay, she has discovered that her current job may not last and she may have to find another position in this troubling economy. There's a character right there: at a stage in life where one thing is expected (retirement) when suddenly, a wrench is thrown into the works and mucks it up. Curtain up!

Of course, in theater she'd have to have perhaps another serious conflict to deal with and everything would be resolved in a couple of hours. Unfortunately, life is not like that. I have had those days, those really bad days, when I wish I could take an intermission, have someone sweep the stage, set out new props, and I could join the action 10 minutes later but in the world of the play (and thus my world) it would be the next day.

Yet, the actor on stage is subject to the words of the playwright, the direction of the director, and is allowed only one part of that collaborative process (and they often don't have a say in who their co-cast members are). We, in strutting and fretting our hour upon the stage are at once the playwright, the director, and the actor rolled into one. It is up to us to decide if our tale will be told by an idiot or if our "stage" is truly a kingdom and we the princes.

Religulous

Brian and I finally got around to seeing Bill Mahr's film, Religulous. In it, Mr. Mahr satirizes world religions by visiting various religious people and places and asking them questions like, "Seriously, man and dinosaurs co-existed? You really believe that?" Hence the title of the film which merges the words religion and ridiculous.

It is meant to be funny and to make us think. He has a rather Michael Moore-esque approach to the film meaning he tends to make fun of those he disagrees with in order to prove his point. Perhaps right-wing Conservatives do the same thing in their documentaries. I wouldn't know. As a bleeding heart liberal I tend to stick with my own kind.

(For full disclosure I will add that I do believe in God. I'm not so sure about religion. I was brought up Catholic but have questioned my faith on and off through the years, most recently when a colleague said she had a hard time belonging to a religion that did not accept her as a full member.)

The movie was pretty funny but I don't feel that Mr. Mahr made his point well. For one thing, he kept interrupting the person with whom he was speaking. He'd ask a question and before the other guy could respond, Mr. Mahr would be off on a tangent. The other guy, usually a religious figure, would keep saying, "Let me finish." But Mr. Mahr seemed to full of his own witticisms to let anyone make their case.

He did enlighten us (or at least me) on several interesting topics including the Egyptian God Horus who was also supposedly born to a virgin, performed miracles, rose from the dead and predated Jesus by 1500 years.

While it was a pretty funny movie and Mr. Mahr is extremely intelligent, I feel that the best part of the movie came in his summation. He delivered a monologue at the end of the film that I feel truly drove his point home in a way that the film did not. I can't re-print it all here but I've a few quotes. His entire summation can be found on the quotes page of IMDB.

"Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking."

"Religion is dangerous because it makes human beings who don't have all the
answers think that they do."

"And, anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you
die, I promise you they do not. How can I be so sure? Because I
don't know and you do not possess mental powers that I do not."

"The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not
the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt
is humble, and that's what man needs to be considering that human history is
just a litany of getting shit dead wrong."

I Believe in Naps

Do you ever listen to NPR's This I Believe? I love those essays and often daydream about getting one on the air but I have nothing to say. Oh, I believe in America, community service, tolerance, patience...basically, whatever the speaker is discussing. My problem is that I don't have a grand-mother, uncle, sister, or friend who gave me life changing advice, nor have I lived through any catastrophic event that has shaped my thinking. Sad to say, but I'm pretty boring. But I do believe in stuff, for instance, I'm a huge believer in naps. I know, not exactly NPR fodder.

I discovered the joys of napping one summer when I babysat by day and stage managed at night. Nights run late in theater when you have to have the obligatory post-rehearsal/show beer. So during the day, after lunch we had quiet time. I found that I just needed 10-15 minutes of shut eye to take the edge off. After my "power" nap, I became sprightly and more fun and way less interested in the latest torture techniques.

My favorite place to nap is on my couch. It lends just the right amount of comfort and structure to send me zzzing to the land of Nod. When I nap in my room, it seems too formal and I feel the need to sleep now! This pressure only allows me to lap at the shores of a deep, restful sleep without actually getting there. It's as if the nap is teasing me; no, the couch is sooo much better.

When my kids were young, I used to think of the hours between 5-7 pm as the witching hour. I thought my children became horrible beasts during that time. Turns out, they were and still are fine and truly well-behaved. It's me, in need of a nap, who is cranky. Really, around 4 pm, my entire body shuts down and screams for a bit of shut eye. Unfortunately, I can't usually nap at that time because it's when my kids are coming home from school. So I've had to devise ingenious ways of getting my body to nap earlier in the day. Sometimes, when a production has screwed up my sleeping, I'll stay up really late after a show or rehearsal. The next day, I'll get up to get my kids on the bus, forgo coffee, and then return to bed for 45 minutes. That usually does the trick, giving me the energy I need to get things done. Because nothing slows me down more than when my body is in need of sleep. I wonder if high-powered negotiations would fare much better if everyone just took a nap during them?

I've heard that Napoleon wasn't much of a sleeper but he'd nap often throughout the day, catching 5 minutes here, 15 minutes there. I've also been reading a memoir from writer/runner Haruki Murakami who believes that he is so healthy partly because he naps. And, I've heard about companies designating nap rooms in their offices so their employees can get a little shut eye. So, you see I'm not alone. But still, I can't see NPR producing an essay about believing in naps: I believe in America! I believe in community service! I believe in naps! Nah...

Culture Out the Ying Yang

Have you ever planned to take advantage of some free event but never got around to it? Every city I've lived in has hosted free summer concerts, and I've always planned to attend but never did. I think it has to do with it being summer and that when my laziness kicks into high gear; why go out when you can stay home and stare at the walls?

Well, on Thursday night, I finally took advantage of the free concerts here in Abington. The Abington Art Center (see picture below) hosts free concerts in it's sculpture garden. Brian and I met up with some friends and we all took our kids to check out the concert. I think I always avoided the concerts thinking that my kids would get bored but oh no! There were Frisbees, sculptures to climb on, water ice to eat. We spread out a blanket, opened some wine, sat back and enjoyed! And, the concert was good as well. The band, Mango Men, were great and really entertained the audience with their Jimmy Buffetesque sound, so much more fun that staring at the walls.

On Friday, our neighbors had extra tickets to see End Days, a relatively new play by Deborah Zoe Laufer at People's Light and Theatre Company, located in Malvern, PA. I wish I could do the play justice by describing it but I don't think I can. It's one of those plays that you talk about long after the curtain comes down. Here's a hackneyed description: Nelson Steinberg, a teen-ager, has just moved in next door to Rachel Stein and her parents. Nelson wears an Elvis Presley outfit all the time which has to do with his mother who is dead (actually his father is dead as well, he lived with his step parents who don't seem to care too much for him). Nelson follows Rachel, an angst-ridden goth chick, home from school and runs into her father, Arthur Stein. Arthur Stein has been suffering from depression since 9/11 and can't seem to get out of his PJs (too much trouble). Meanwhile, the mother, Sylvia, has found Jesus and has become an evangelical. Jesus (who makes several appearances) tells Sylvia that the Rapture is coming on Wednesday. It's hysterical. Not only does Jesus appear but so does the astro-physicist Stephen Hawking. Trust me when I say it's funny, poignant and oh, so very good.

So two days of great culture! It's time to go back to staring at the walls. Hope everyone has a great weekend.

Theme Thursday: Ghosts, Three Viewings

Three Viewings is the name of a Jeffery Hatcher play that I worked on many years ago. The play is essentially 3 monologues given by 3 different characters at a funeral parlor. It doesn't contain any ghosts but I liked the title as my theme Thursday will consist of 3 viewings of ghosts.

Kids and Ghosts:

When I was young, I totally believed in ghosts. I wanted one to contact me in the worst way and yet I didn't because I didn't want to be scared out of my mind. Basically, I wanted to see a ghost and yet have the presence of mind to remain calm which was too oxymoronic for my personality. But that never stopped me from trying. My friends and I spent hours deciphering messages from the Ouija board. We held seances, swearing we could feel the spirit in the room.

My children have not yet been introduced to the Ouija board, I'm not even sure if they still make them. They do however have a healthy, childlike belief in ghosts. My 7-year old son brought a book home from the library about ghosts in the White House (he's a bit obsessed with Abraham Lincoln) and quizzed me on ghosts, what they do, how they haunt, etc. My 10-year old daughter has a slightly more creative approach to ghosts. According to her, a family of vampires lives under her bed. When I pointed out that there is no "under" her bed because it sits on the floor, she replied, "Oh, they're ghosts, they vanish into air." These vampires tell her to do things. Unfortunately, they don't tell her to clean her room.

My Dad:

As an adult, I'm not sure I believe in ghosts but something happened at my Dad's interment that gave me pause. My father died in 2000. He was cremated and his ashes hung around for 3 years while my mother figured out what to do with them. Finally, she decided to bury the ashes in Gates of Heaven cemetery where many members of both my parents families are buried (and quite a few of the New York Yankees, I might add). The date was set for June of 2003, and we all made our way to the ceremony. I knew he had died, had come to terms with it and never had any deep sense of "I can't believe he's gone." But, when I arrived at the cemetery, I had the strongest feeling that my father was there, in person. Every time a car pulled up, I thought, "Oh, that must be my dad now." Even though, I knew his remains were in the little box by the grave! I can't explain this absolute, positive belief that he was there in person. I'm not sure I'll ever explain but I've never felt it since.

Ghost Light:

In theater, we leave a light on after a show is over which is called a ghost light. Most often this is a bare bulb in center stage although at the Arden, it's some of the work lights (overhead fluorescents). This tradition dates back to Shakespeare's time when, it is said, a candle was left burning to ward off the ghosts of previous productions. Of course most of the theaters in his day were made of wood hence the numerous fires from the candles being left lit. In actuality, a light is left on to prevent anyone stumbling around in the theater after-hours from getting hurt. But I prefer the first explanation because really, what is a theater without a ghost?

Money, Money, Money...It's so Funny

We had a lot of fun last week, or so our bank account says. I'm sure it had to do with the holidays and relatives, etc. We spent and spent and then after it was all over, we realized that we had spent more than we had thought.

So this week is the "cut-back" week when we say no to everything. We're doing the "what can you make for dinner with a can of tuna, chick peas, and some olive oil?" Where is Mark Bittman when you need him? Luckily, there is enough beer and wine in the fridge to get us through.

It would have been smarter to budget for the extra guests but I'm actually not very good at budgeting. I'm better at spending money and then saying, "Oh my God!!! We can't spend money. Ever. Again."

Brian, however, hates it when I do that. And, I do most of the daily accounting. He goes to work and then comes home; he doesn't have a whole lot of time to buy stuff.

Of course, I think I spend money smarter than most people but apparently I don't. I get this idea from my mother. Early on in our marriage when I was sure that I was the better money spender I told my mother about it. She said she had felt the same way with my dad. She even told me that when she went back to work, my father told her to keep her paycheck in her own account. He was all old-fashioned about taking care of the family. So, she would say, "What's his is mine and what's mine is mine." I'll add that she said it rather tongue-in-cheek in case that didn't come across.

As a side note, I think my mother was the most frugal woman I ever met. For years as a child I had no idea what Cool Whip was (we whipped our own cream!) and I didn't know one could buy bread crumbs in a grocery store (we made our own!). So you can see where I would get the idea that I certainly know when to spend money.

Anyway, we decided that since we have no money, we'd spend part of next weekend volunteering. We've been trying to volunteer as a family but with my theater schedule it's very hit-or-miss. When I get a chance, I take the children to Cradles 2 Crayons, an organization that provides school supplies and other essentials to underprivileged children. Usually, we are there for an hour or two (until my 7 year old son decides he's had enough) cleaning sneakers or whatever.

But this weekend, we're going to walk a mile to raise money to supply backpacks full of school supplies for needy kids this fall. Normally, I'd just write a check but...we have no money! So, the kids and I are canvassing the neighborhood asking for donations.

I can't tell you how much I hate asking for money. Some people I know are soooo good at it. They go out one night and come back with tons of money. These are the people that when you need to stuff for an auction or for raffle prizes, they return with the 3-night, all-inclusive stay at some exclusive resort; I'm the one who gets the 5% off a spa treatment. I avoid every fund-raiser that comes home from school because seriously, who pays that much for wrapping paper?

Anyway, we've been out and about asking for donations. I told the kids that we are only asking for 2-3 dollars because I can't ask for anything more. Most people have been very generous and very kind. I'm having my daughter do the asking because, as I tell myself, it's good practice for her but we all know the real reason. She's doing a great job. My son tends to spend the time seeing how far he can jump off the porch.

We're collecting our money, and we'll do our walk but after this "cut-back" is over, I'll be glad to go back to writing checks and cleaning sneakers.

Potpourri

I don't know if this happens to fellow bloggers or not but sometimes, I won't blog one day and that turns into two, then three, then a week and half goes by and I've almost forgotten that I've started a blog. I also find it difficult to blog when events crop up such as the fact that we had company for the past 4 days and before that I had to do extra shopping and cleaning. I've been thinking about this a lot since I've heard that the movie Julie and Julia is coming out. This is the movie about the woman who cooked her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking and blogged about it. I don't know much about the movie or the blog but the feat itself overwhelms me. Where does one find the time? She mustn't have kids.

So, fellow bloggers, do tell me if you don't mind: Do you blog regularly? If so, do you feel you need to or is it just for fun? How do you find the time when life gets a bit crazy? I'm just curious and looking for inspiration.

In the meantime, here's what's been happening with me:

Theme Thursday: After the Summer Theme Thursday, I surfed around and attempted to read everyone's post about Summer. I didn't quite make it through but I loved it! The photos of the food and sights and sounds that emanated from the posts were hypnotic! As for my post, yes, The Silver Fox got all the right answers on the quiz. I do think I dated myself by the songs I chose.

Margarita Race: I ran a 5K a couple of weeks ago with Brian. He beat the pants off me but only after I posted my fastest first mile ever (at an 8:40 pace). Then my stomach seized up and I had to slow down...wwwaaaayyyyy down. I still got a margarita though - 2 in fact!

Lazy Summer Days: I'm lucky enough to be able to work my theater schedule out so that I can have most of the summer off with my kids. It's been so nice because we've taken to doing nothing most of the time. Of course that reminds me of the time my daughter said to me: You know mom, you should pay me for doing nothing. It's the hardest thing to do because you can't stop to rest. And that's definitely not conducive to blogging.