Bring On Lemons

It’s not him…it’s me…reflective parenting A few years ago, someone provided me with their opinion about my parenting. From their vantage point, I clearly favored my daughter who is the oldest. The individual providing the advice felt that I didn’t give my youngest (my son) the same attention I gave his sister who was 14 months older. Most people would argue the case in the other direction. They would tell you that I baby my baby and have unrealistic expectations for my oldest. Regardless… Two children, two different personalities, and yet I love each of them with 110% of my being. That said – my son is very accustomed to getting his own way and he has my bad temper and short fuse. Today, I cut the bottom of his shirt off instead of arguing about the shirt being too long. It was then that I realized that it’s not him, it’s me. I give into him WAY more than I do with my daughter. It’s definitely not right and I will work on it. I’m all about root cause though – asking WHY – so… ...

I'm not in love with this...but I'm also not feeling well at all. I am trying to write a flash fiction piece that is good enough for the fall flash fiction contest and I thought 'first date' would be a great idea...and it has to be 750 words or less... I really need some feedback on it - love it or lump it? Vibrant Her headline on Christian Mingle was “Vibrant Teacher Seeks Great Communicator” – I remember rolling my eyes. Why would I even bother putting myself out there, much less with someone ‘vibrant’? I was picturing someone way too pretty for someone like me. For some reason I clicked the profile anyway. Yup, another dead end…she wasn’t just pretty. She was way out of my league. A cheerleader coach and an ex-cheerleader, flowing blonde hair, great smile, twinkling eyes…of course I was drawn to her. Somehow we were a match (at least according to the computer software or something). I scrolled down. Favorite actor – Kevin James Religion – Lutheran ...

Who Would Have Thought.... that I would so thoroughly enjoy being a mother? Yup - you heard me...my life did NOT lose all meaning and direction when I no longer had a paycheck or fancy title. I now have the most rewarding title of all: MOM I learn something new every day. I am reminded to love more deeply. I am learning to appreciate our differences, embrace our quirks, and I'm finding more joy than I ever thought possible. Thank you to those who made this possible.  May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and little people (who are usually sticky)! ~Crystal

If you were a boat, the following could be said: When the waves are tossing you about and the turbulence is more than you can bear you return to port. Returning to the safety of the harbor where you find refuge and safety among others of your kind. Life isn’t entirely different than sailing. When a woman feels as if her very being is shattering – during childbirth – she calls out for her mother. Our natural instinct is to return home. Sometimes home is a town, a building, the loving arms of friends and family, and sometimes it is merely a smell or a memory. I place we long to be but can never find in the physical sense. I feel that way myself from time to time. I seek the camaraderie of a particular melody or the words of a poem. Today it was the lovely words written nearly one hundred years ago by poet Amy Lowell. I have a delightful text book from 1923 that describes Amy in the following way: No one has fought, in theory and in practice, the battles for the experimental a...

A little flash fiction for this Sunday evening - enjoy (and there's  a bit of a lesson at the end if you're into that sort of thing)  ~~~~ I dug my nails into my arm hard. I was hoping to draw blood. I wanted the physical pain. They were fighting again on the other side of the door. Daddy asked me to wait outside as things escalated. He knew I would be upset and he was trying to make things seem as normal as possible. Normal? Really? Even he didn't believe that anymore. Tonight the fight began over the color of curtains. Mom asked Dad what color he thought would be nice. He chose blue and she responded by telling him how hideous blue would look. He threw his hands up in the air with a sigh "Why do you even ask? You know you couldn't care less what anyone else thinks anyway." ...and they were off... She was upset because this and he was upset about that and they dredged up all the past fights and problems of the last few decades. Truth be told he gave ...

The following conversation happened between Olivia of Oh! Photography and I earlier this week. "Your wedding pictures are done and I'm so excited - you're going to love them!" "That's awesome! Do you just mail them to me, or how does that work?" "I usually meet with people in person would Thursday afternoon work for you?" "Sure" and we schedule a time to meet...we met downtown Manitowoc and after a big hug, Olivia hands me a heart shaped box. "What's this?" "These are your pictures?" "What?" (I'm confused because I'm holding what you see below) I had been expecting a silver colored CD in a white paper wrapper....and here is my new initial (O) in the middle of a hand made fabric flower wrapped carefully around gift box...this was not at all how I thought this was supposed to work. I open the box (with tears in my eyes) and this is what I find: 2 hand crafted ...