If you've ever read my blog, please read this post.

I thought today would be ordinary, but it took a strange turn. Something happened that I'll never forget.
    Cade and I sat waiting for the verdict on our van's safety and emissions inspection.  I nearly bit my nails, worrying because our van is a clunker.  The radio's fuses are messed up--so every time I turn off the van, I have to disconnect the battery.  The heater on the driver's side no longer works; the left sliding door won't open and the carpet smells like crayons. I laughed in the waiting room, thinking how just because I'm an author, people assume we're loaded, livin' the American dream.  Even though money can be tight and we've put all of our saving into Wayman Publishing, I love our clunker house and van--they make life interesting for us and our four kids.
    A mechanic opened the door--breaking through my thoughts--and waved Cade and me toward the computer.  "Your vehicle passed.  It'll be seventy-seven dollars and twenty-nine cents."
    I smiled wide. "That clunker passed!"  I elbowed Cade.  "I knew our baby would pass."
    As the mechanic typed, looking confused by my statement, I asked him how his day was.
    "Terrible," he replied.  "People have been so mean today. The last guy who came in here was a real A-hole.  I hate people like that."
    "I'm sorry," I said.  "I've been dealing with mean people all week, too.  I wish they'd be more appreciative and understanding."  
    I gave him my credit card then, but right after paying, I looked out the bay window and realized our van hadn't even been checked yet.  "Corvette" flashed on the screen in front of me.
    "Ummm . . ." I cleared my throat.  "I think we just paid for the wrong vehicle."
    "You're the corvette, right?" he asked.
    Cade and I stood a little straighter.  He thought we looked like "corvette people"?  That was flippin' awesome!

    "Nope, I wish," Cade said.  "So we paid the wrong bill?"
    The guy nodded, obviously worried for our reaction.  "I thought that was strange you called it a clunker."
    Cade and I looked at each other.  "Cade," I whispered, "do you think this happened for a reason?"
    He nodded.
    So I looked at the mechanic and said, "We'd like to pay for the corvette owners' bill."  Cade and I knew we'd just have enough in checking to cover the corvette bill and ours.
    The mechanic turned, stunned.  Another mechanic came up and said, "No, you don't want to pay that.  The guy who owns the corvette is a creep.  He's the biggest jerk who's been in here today, so is his wife--and that's saying something."
    I second-guessed myself.  But Cade didn't.  "We'll still pay it," Cade said.  
    I thought for a minute and agreed.  "Maybe they need to see some kindness.  I don't know why this happened, but it did."
    So we even paid for the safety and emissions after that, on top of the registration fee.  "Just don't tell them we paid," I said and the mechanic agreed.
    The guys in the first bay were still dumbfounded, either thinking we were stupid or maybe trying to make up for a huge sin.   
    We went back into the waiting room, passed the rich couple who owned the corvette, and sat down.  I didn't say a word to them and neither did Cade.     
    I couldn't help glancing at the rich couple before the mechanic called them to the other room.  Both the young wife and her middle-aged husband puckered, like they'd eaten wasabi candies by the fistful.  I wondered what went on in their lives to sour them so.  Were they just bored, or truly sad?
    I remembered then, times in my life when I'd been depressed beyond anything--when kids in high school spread terrible rumors about my virginity . . . when I'd been homeless . . . when Zeke--my son--had died in my arms.  People probably thought I was a jerk because I wasn't always sociable; they had no idea. 
    Cade and I waited in that room for a long time.  The Chinese lady across from me went out to smoke.  The cigarette looked so elegant in her slender, pink-nailed hand.  A kid next to me joked about the groundhog being wrong this year.  And the whole time the corvette didn't leave and no one pulled our van into the bay.
    Suddenly the door opened.  A wind flew through the waiting room, smelling of gas and strong cologne. The rich couple came inside, peered around and then smiled warmly at Cade and me.
    "What an awesome gesture, you guys."  The man shook Cade's hand and looked at me like we deserved a damn medal, just because we'd been decent human beings.  "What a nice thing.  Why would you want to do that for complete strangers?"
    I didn't want to say that I had a "feeling"--that something greater was at work than us spending all the money we had, on a whim.  "Everything happens for a reason," I said, smiling at both the man and his wife.  "It wasn't a big deal, not really."  Tears lined the woman's eyes, and I wondered again, what she was going through.
    "Well, we can't let you do it." He shook my hand then. Something rustled in between our palms, like a sacred secret.  That man--who the mechanics said was such a jerk--had paid us back all the money and then some.
    They left, and I can't explain what emotions went through me.  The mechanics had us pay our own bill after that--we paid in cash.  The main guy kept shaking his head and typing.  "He paid you back," the kid said.  "Here I thought he was such a jerk, but he paid you back.  I'll never forget this.  That really showed me something about people."
    Cade smiled and put his arm around me.  
   "Me too," I said.  "That was really somethin'."
   And I realized, we weren't supposed to pay that bill just so the rich couple could see a simple kindness; we were supposed to pay it so all the mechanics in the shop could see the kindness that shone from the couple who just left in the corvette. 
   
Closing: Regardless of all the "feelings," the failed attempt to pay someone else's bill, and after all the magic of the moment, the van still didn't pass safety and emissions.  One miracle down, one to go!

P.S. If you'd like to be part of a Random Acts of Kindness Blogfest (May 27th-31st, 2013) please go HERE.

What IS True Beauty?

"True Beauty"

I stood amidst a huge crowd.  So many people clustered there, shuffling around.  "Where are we?" I asked one man who remained stretching.
    "We're getting ready to race," he yelled above the commotion, obviously shocked I didn't already know what went on.  "It's time to pick your partner, or decide if you want to make it on your own.  I'm making my own way."  He pointed ahead.  "That's the only way to win."
    The mountainous road in front of us looked tragic, with bumps and potholes.  Almost everyone wore running shoes and shorts.  I looked down; I wore them as well.  What seemed strange, though, was the fact that we were spirits, not flesh.
    My heart suddenly beat fast. The trail ahead said something simple, something terrifying. "The Race of Life," I read the fading words.  "If you so desire, pick your partner before you get a body."
    I closed my eyes and wondered, was I meant to race alone?  If not, I needed to find someone to run with--and fast--the race was about to start.  I mulled over the crowd, and grew frantic all the while. 
    One man approached me, but I knew he didn't have what it would take.  My arms pushed past him and moved along.  Who could I race with?  They needed to have similar goals, similar ways of thinking.  They would have to be fun and inventive.  A hard worker, a good father if we ended up having children.
    "We'll race in ten minutes!" a voice boomed.
    About a million girls circled around a handsome spirit.  He beamed from the attention and I wondered over the sight.  I finally crouched on one knee.  It was useless, the spirit I searched for probably didn't exist.  I needed someone who would help me finish the race and not just run it.  
    I tied one of my running shoes and prayed, "God, I'm scared to get a body.  I'm scared to live.  What if I stumble and fall?  What if I forget your power and your love?  What if I make terrible choices?"
    Tears came to my eyes because it was scary.  I was about to leave the comfort around me, the peace of seeing God's face in Heaven's eternity.  
    Many of the people around pulsed with anxiety as well.  I wondered how they would fair.  Would even one of us succeed?  I stood tall then, dusted the dirt from my running shorts, put my hair in a ponytail and got ready to run.
    Hundreds of people had already paired with each other, but I remained alone, refusing to be nervous any more. 
    Sure, I could lose almost everything, but I refused to lose my faith.  
    I bent forward.  The journey would be hard.  I could make it on my own, though--I had to.  At any minute the whistle would blow, and so much depended on the race.
    My breath slowed in concentration as I studied the wide road ahead.  Then a hand touched my shoulder and I turned.  
    A spirit stood beside me--an amazing spirit.  "I'm Cade," he whispered, and with those simple words, I knew I'd met my match.  
    "I've been looking for you," I said.
    "And I've always been looking for you."  He held my hand, making me feel truly beautiful and complete, truly worth something despite anything that might happen on Earth.  "Are you ready for this?" he asked, smirking.
    "You bet I am," I winked and that's when the whistle blew.   




    This post was written for the "Beauty of a Woman Blogfest."  Please go here for more information:

August Mclaughlin

I have Hypoglycemia

I haven't been feeling well lately.  It's not a big deal really, just dizziness, blacking out, trouble breathing and memory loss during these short times. All right, so it might be a little problem.  It hasn't been fun.  And I'm really glad I went to the doctor.  He did some blood tests and now we know what we're dealing with.  I need to get on a diet, so I won't feel like this anymore.  It's scary blacking out.  AND scary going on a diet.  I swear that if I didn't have a fast metabolism I'd be over 400 pounds.  I just like eating what I want to--cheese, coke, chips and cookies.
    Anyway, two weeks ago, I blacked out on the stairs, and luckily grabbed onto the railing before I fell down.  That's when I decided to visit the doctor!  How scary to have that happen while taking care of the Zombie Elf (4) and Doctor Jones (3).
    Only a couple of people have known about this.  It's not something I wanted to shout from the rooftops. . . . Comprende?
    I guess I have hypoglycemia. 
    After these "episodes"--when I'd apparently not eaten the right things--I joked telling Cade, it's a good thing I wrote memoirs, because at this rate, I'm just losing my mind and my memories.  Was it Alzheimer's?  Adult onset autism?  A brain tumor?  This is partly a joke, honestly I've been really worried.  It sucks blacking out so much, wondering if the next time I'd faint completely.  I could just envision myself at an old folk's home--at thirty years old!  Reading my own damn books and wondering who wrote them.
    Anyway, this isn't a huge problem now.  I'm excited to meet with the dietician and make a plan.  This is better than a tumor, really.

    I hope all of you are doing great.  When things settle down with my health everything should go back to normal.
    
    Here's a video of my last signing.  It kinda cracks me up because, looking back, I always eat the same things before a signing/playing gig.  I always feel better.  Now I know why!  Maybe my brain has been trying to tell me something subconsciously LOL!


   

Vote for Ruby! She's a gem!

    Thanks to everyone who helped come up with a slogan for the Scribe.  We picked Inger's--because it's AWESOME.  If you haven't read Inger's blog, you should really check it out.  Here's that link: Desert Canyon Living

    The Scribe will find out the election results soon.  I'm excited.  This whole process has been fun, just seeing her work so hard.  Even if she doesn't win, she's learned a lot.

The Scribe wearing a "Musketeer" set I made for her a few years ago.  That kid is all business!

 
    Also, I had something wonderful happen today!  If you'd like to find out what it was, please go here: Today's Heroes

The Scribe is Running for President. We need YOUR help!

Do you know of any campaign slogans that might be cute for the Scribe?
    
     If you've read The Golden Sky, you know her name is Ruby.

How about:
   
     Vote for Ruby . . . Making the world sparkle since 2001.

  She's no newbie, vote for Ruby.
  
  Ruby--vote for a gem! 

    I'm racking my brain for ideas, but I keep coming up with THE DUMBEST lines!  Take this one for example:

    Better than Chuck Norris, vote for Ruby.

And the internet searches aren't too helpful either.  I'm finding pictures of people with fingers up their noses--Pick a Winner!

Or this . . .

I did find a slogan generator.  It's pretty hilarious.  Go here to check it out: The pcman Website
    If you find a slogan for yourself, I hope you'll share it with me. 

    This is the one it generated for me:

Elisa . . . Loaded for Bear  

    See why I need your input!   

Thanks in advance,

A Desperate Mother! 

When Disney Movies Go Wrong--Guest Post

When Disney Movies Go Wrong

By Ken Myers

I love, and have loved, almost every single Disney movie that has come out since I was a kid myself, so naturally I wanted to share this love with my two little darlings. Who in the world would ever think that anything bad could come out of a Disney movie? 

 


My oldest, a girl, was talking from the time she was a wee little thing and she understood everything so well. Anyone that has children knows that some kiddos are ready to see movies at different ages than others. Parents have to take into consideration if they are able to sit still through an entire movie and if it will actually be entertainment for them. Or will you end up spending the whole time trying to get them to stay in their seats and watch?

I actually waited until my daughter was four and a half to take her to a movie theater. A new movie was out that I was dying to see and I knew she had a great attention span so off we went. She was absolutely thrilled with the big screen. Her eyes are the color of deep chocolate or rich coffee and as big as saucers. She was mesmerized with the big screen action and sat in a state of wonder while it was unfolding before her eyes. I was thrilled and so happy to see her reaction… so far.

Who would figure that a Disney movie would end up scarring your child for life? The movie we went to see was The Little Mermaid in 1989. I know anyone with children has seen this beautiful movie. But when Ursula the sea witch came on the scene my world started to fall apart. My daughter plunged her head into my neck and that was that for this movie. I did convince her to come out from under cover when the witch was gone but you could tell by the look on her face that she was anticipating her return at any moment and she was ready to dart. I felt like such a bad mother and even asked her if she wanted to leave. She was, and still is, a wonderfully congenial and mature child and said it would be alright and we could stay. Awww… bad, bad, mother.

We laugh about it today, now that she is an adult, and she teases me about being a bad momma. I swear to her I had no idea, I honestly do not remember the movie trailers portraying Ursula as scary as she was. Since I was writing this I went back and watched the original trailer for the movie and honestly she is in the trailer like three times for less than a second each time. They never show her in all her glory rising up out of the sea over a thousand times bigger than life with that deep guttural voice of doom. Unfair advertising! But even then I was so surprised that my usually very practical daughter had gotten so upset. When you are four and a half and the screen is so big and a half woman/half octopus that is totally evil comes on the scene all practicality goes right out the window.

Another Disney movie that went wrong in our household was Lady and the Tramp. My youngest, a boy, absolutely loved this movie. We watched it over and over and over…I know some of you know what I am talking about. The movie you would like to hide or even burn but you do not want to see disappointment in those little eyes. Right?

Anyway, he had for all intents and purposes, taken on the persona of Tramp in the flesh. He loved his attitude, his freedom, and he especially loved the way Tramp kicked dirt ceremoniously behind him when he finished taking care of a pack of dogs that were giving him trouble. Every time my son wanted to make a point that he did not care what you were saying or wanted him to do he would grin and kick a little dirt behind him. It was absolutely adorable at the age of six because he was a toe headed, bouncy little guy with a gleam in his eye. We all knew we had to put a stop to it however or it could easily backfire on us as parents. We were well aware that the teachers would not get the same kick out of it that we did.

That was not all that came out of that movie either. You would not even think that a child that had just barely turned six years old could put two and two together and come up with what my son did. You just never know where their minds are at this age or what they are going to say. There have absolutely no filtering system, what comes into their minds comes out of their mouths!

One day as my son and I stopped to get the car filled up with gas we decided to run our car through the car wash as well. We pulled up to put our coins into the meter and I started to drop in the quarters. As I was doing so I heard what sounded like the quarters hitting the pavement. So I opened the car door to look. It seems that the quarters were going in the machine and falling out on the ground. To my astonishment there were about fifty quarters on the ground. I am guessing that people must have been going through there at night and did not see or hear their quarters falling and must have assumed the car wash was broken and moved on. I found myself in the position of picking up all the quarters off of the ground and then puzzling over what to do with them. I told my son we were going to take them into the attendant at the gas station because I assumed that people were probably going in and asking for their money back since the car wash did not work for them.

When we got into the store there was a line of about five people ahead of us and before we got up to the attendant there was a long line forming behind us. As we were standing in line I had a tissue full of quarters in one hand and a six year old in the other who was getting very impatient and wanting to leave. I did not realize he was even paying any attention to the attendant but I was. She was an Asian woman, I do not know where she was from, but she did not speak very good English at all. People were having a hard time communicating with her about their needs so I was beginning to wonder how me returning these quarters was going to go down.

When I finally did get up to the desk I started to explain to her that the car wash was broken and the quarters were on the ground and I was bringing them to her. She kept nodding and telling me that yes the car wash needed quarters and all I needed to do was put them in the slot. It went something like that, I am sure you get the picture. I tried for what seemed like five minutes to get her to take the quarters but she refused. My son was pulling at my arm and was anxious to get out of there as was the line of people behind me. I was stumped so I just decided to leave with my bounty.

As we turned to leave the store my son, in a loud robust voice, started singing the song from the Lady and the Tramp when the Siamese cats came with the aunt to take care of the baby while the parents were gone. If you are at all familiar with this movie you will remember the cats and the oriental sound in their voices as they sang, “We are Siamese if you please, we are Siamese if you don’t please”. And as he sang he suddenly became very oriental in his speech, walk, and in the rhythm of his body as well. Needless to say everyone in the line was in hysterics. The only thing I was extremely grateful for is that I do not think the lady had a clue of what Lady and the Tramp was or that it had anything to do with her! But believe me my face was red! This was another Disney movie that had gone terribly wrong for me. Ahh, memories.

About the Author: 

Ken Myers is an expert advisor on in-home care & related family safety issues to many websites and groups. He is a regular contributor to www.gonannies.com. You can get in touch with him at kmyers.ceo@gmail.com.

Dreams. Is Your Subconscious Telling You Something?

I'm homeless, hardly wearing anything, lying in the fetal position in a dirty gravel alleyway.  People chatter, getting ready for bed.  They don't know I'm out there, starving and dying.  Their lights slowly click off in the towering brick building to the sides of me.  By turning out the lights, do they know their extinguishing my hope? 
    I know the darkness will come then--it always does--and I'm left dusted in numbing frost.  My limbs stiffen, so cold I shake and my tears mingle with the grimy ground.  That's when the mice come, picking at the flesh on my arms and legs.  I don't see them, but I hear them, executing squeaky orders, working as a team to devise my slow death. 
    They gnaw, until almost nothing is left--then true oblivion comes. . .  That's when I wake up.

I've told friends about this dream. Some think it's because Homeless in Hawaii was just published.  

Maybe remembering those cold nights with nothing, except Cade and a violin, has triggered this strange reoccurring dream.  I know there's a deeper meaning though.  It's simply a matter of researching the roots of the dream and discovering what my subconscious is trying to tell me.  But when would I be ready for that?  There's a reason this has remained in my subconscious, right?

Dreams have always been a big part of my life.
Let me give you some history . . .  

In Bible Girl & the Bad Boy, I dreamed about an ocean of ice, where I drifted away from my family--this was right before I ran away in waking life.  In Homeless in Hawaii, I dreamed about a wooden burden that later took a human form--before I discovered (in waking life) that I felt of my own self-worth as a burden.  In The Golden Sky--perhaps my most telling memoir--I dreamed about a fire that burned everything except people.  This happened when my son passed away and brought so much change into my world.  
    These dreams each had a very symbolic meaning.

    Over the years I've read many books about our subconscious minds, and how we deal with emotions while we sleep.
   The most productive and accurate book I've found is The Element Encyclopedia of 20,000 Dreams.  
    So I pulled that book out last night, the whole time I thought about how I try to feel like I'm worth something.  Then the same people drag me down, criticizing my every action. That's when I crumble.  Why does their feedback hurt so much?  I've tried my very hardest.  With the help of others, I founded Wayman Publishing.  I've written multiple books in the past few years.  I'm on Wikipedia: HERE.
    But the thing is, when you're a writer, you get feedback from limitless people.  I've literally been receiving hundreds of emails each day.  My Twitter and Facebook account have become overwhelming.  Wayman Publishing has been getting around 90 queries a month.  This has made me stronger.  But why does the feedback of certain "friends" still sting so much?  Is this what my dream, of being a beggar and getting eaten by mice, means?  Am I just overwhelmed?
    So I looked up beggars.

    Beggar = Low Self-esteem.  Starving emotions into destitution.  

    What about the mice?

    Mice = Timidity. Changes that gnaw away.

    Attacked by Animals = Repressing Instincts. Being too civilized. It could be time to stand up for yourself. 

    There have been many times in the past (and present) where people have walked all over me.  I take it.  When I love them--regardless of the friendship/love being toxic--I get hurt over and over.
    I'm glad I've been having this dream and that I looked things up.  Whether you believe in Telling Dreams or not, this is something for me to remember.  

    I need to stop looking to others for validation.

    I need to stand up for myself and my family when the time comes.

    No matter what anyone says, I'm doing the best I can.  And at least when death comes I can say I lived . . . I tried.

    Have you ever felt like this?   
    Do you believe in Telling Dreams? 

P.S. If you need a good laugh after reading this post, please go check out these hilarious sayings: Janie Junebug's Tease