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    theresa


    Theresa Lode or, simply “T”, had her world turned upside down and inside out when her son was diagnosed with ADHD and a few other goodies. Her choice- follow the doctor's orders....or trust her heart and delve into the world of Free Range Education. She chose the latter...

    Curious? Want to know more? Read on ...
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These shoes were made for shoppin’

If you see a pair of these coming at you, you are well advised to get out of the way. Just sayin'.

“I’ll just be over here making sure my fillings are intact,” I said to Molly as she disappeared into the sea of chrome racks and fluorescent lights.  Then I yelled out my second most frequently used “mom” admonitions, (first place goes to “Brush your teeth!”) “And for crying-out-loud…Look at the clearance racks FIRST!”

I saw Molly twitch, toss her glorious red mane and disappear behind a display of sequined fuchsia shirts that looked like they’d been run through a paper shredder. (CLEARANCE $29.99 and up)

But back to my fillings.  I was assured that the blaring techno music hadn’t dislodged any dental work so I drew a deep breath and accepted my lot in life for the next bit of time: Clothes shopping for school.

Not being one to ignore my own advice, I found another clearance rack that looked a little more promising. ($2.99 and up) I sighed as I picked through the butt crack pants and horizontally stripped sweaters (PEOPLE!  Please…we want VERTICAL stripes!)

And then she appeared out of nowhere.  She was short, fat and wearing those Easy Tone shoes that promise to “Blast Cellulite! Tone Your Butt! Regulate Your Bowels!”  Pure fluff, I thought.

What made me shudder though was the determined look in her eye.  I was on one end of the clothes rack and she was on the other.  And she was closing in quickly.  With each beat of the maniacal music she slid a hanger down the rack for her inspection.  The scrape of the hanger on the rack made a chilling sound.

Estimated time ‘til impact: 13 seconds.

I dashed away just in time for Easy Tone to finish her assault.

Molly appeared with some non shredded articles of clothing to try on so we headed back to the fitting rooms.

Uh-oh.  Easy Tone was marching off to war, a huge pile of clothes hanging over her arm.  And she was heading for the fitting room.  I mentally dared the petite clerk to challenge her on a clothes limit. The song, “These Boots Were Made for Walking”  began playing in my mind.

There was a stoop shouldered man holding a purse lingering in her trail.  “Stay right there,” she barked.  He complied.

And I once again contemplated how anyone writer can ever suffer from “writer’s block” when there is such a circus taking place all around us.

As we were leaving the store, empty handed, I stopped at an advertisement poster for Easy Tone shoes, reread their ad copy.  As a general rule of thumb, I avoid things that offer “Dynamic Rocker Bottom Technology!”

Then I counted my fillings again.   And we left.

Spit on ceiling

The law is a funny thing.  Paul talked about that in one of his letters.  The stuff he didn’t want to do, he did.  And the stuff he knew he should do, he struggled to do.

It’s what wakes up that urge to touch a freshly painted bench with the “Wet Paint- Do Not Touch” sign.

Yesterday the kids and Jay went to the the city’s new Rec Center.  It’s a stunning facility and I look forward to getting a membership.  But Jay commented on one thing that bothered him.  All the signs.  Don’t do this.  Don’t do that.  Most notably, the one in the gymnasium.  In addition to “non marking soles only” was a sign that read:

Do not spit on floor or walls

As soon as Jay told me that my bad angel quipped, “So what? I can spit on the ceiling?”

Caleb’s response was the same, Jay told me.

Once we start playing with the law and micromanaging others’ behaviors….things get tangly right quick. Granted, I get what the Rec Center is trying to do.  And evidently some goobers haven’t been trained by their mamas on gymnasium etiquette.

Even still.  I wish they hadn’t put THAT particular sign.  And if you drop in at the Rec Center and see me looking longingly at the ceiling, you’ll know the source of my angst.

I want to live by grace but the truth is, the law still brings this stuff out of me.

Overheard on Facebook

Should I be concerned?  The following is a conversation between Molly and her alter-ego, Bob Billingsworth.  And yes, he is a chicken.   (For the record, Bob has had a prestigious recording career.  His preferred style is rap.)

PS Later this week, I will feature another Magnificent Molly Cartoon featuring Bob Billingsworth, The Rapper Chicken.

Mollizzle Lodizzle Happay mutha’s dae people XD

27 minutes ago · Comment ·

Bob Billingsworth

Bob Billingsworth

Happy muthas dae to you too, yo. Hey i’m not on tour anymore so we need to hang out and write some more songs!
11 minutes ago
Mollizzle Lodizzle

Mollizzle Lodizzle

Sure I have a few ideas for another rap. I’ll send you the lyrics. Tell me what you think!
9 minutes ago
Bob Billingsworth

Bob Billingsworth

K just read it. I like it! Might I suggest that you add a few more words to the second line of the chorus to keep the beat, ya know?
8 minutes ago
Mollizzle Lodizzle

Mollizzle Lodizzle

Kk will do. When can you hang out?
7 minutes ago
Bob Billingsworth

Bob Billingsworth

I can chill tomorrow, if my agent stops bugging me. Hes trying to get me to go on an interview with Oprah and I really don’t want to.
6 minutes ago
Mollizzle Lodizzle

Mollizzle Lodizzle

Okey dokey. well you tell your agent that you can do whatever you want… gosh they can get so annoying!
5 minutes ago
Bob Billingsworth

Bob Billingsworth

Yeah I’m thinking about firing him…
5 minutes ago
Mollizzle Lodizzle

Mollizzle Lodizzle

I think you should… when i went to the set of your music video to chill and say hi he cussed me out.
4 minutes ago
Bob Billingsworth

Bob Billingsworth

Wow. I’m soo firing him now.. i’m calling him right now
3 minutes ago

Mollizzle Lodizzle

Mollizzle Lodizzle

Yeess!! Buh-bye stupid agent lol.

The quest for freedom

I’ve been musing today about the battle between the quest for freedom and our human tendencies to be controlling.

In religion…we form organizations…and kill off relationships because it is in the nature of organizations to protect the systems that keep it alive.

In education…we put a scope and sequence in place, create an artificial environment for learning….and kill off curiosity and ingenuity.

In the workforce…we place efficiency and “the bottom line” as the ultimate goal…and destroy the artistry of the individual. (And demoralize them as well.)

As I watch these things and grow more aware of our society that demands conformity and obeisance to the insanity…the more jealous I grow of freedom.  For myself and especially my children as I don’t see this battle dying down anytime soon.  If anything, it’s accelerating.

I think the key to freedom is to first get in touch with who you are:  Who did God make you to be?   What are your dreams, values and passions?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. What do you think?

The Amazing Steve and other happy moments at Erma

Things have been a whirlwind since Joanne and I returned from the Erma Bombeck conference this past weekend.  I wanted to share a few stories and some fun pics so here we go.

The first night we sat at a round table with folks and after introductions we all enjoyed chatting about who we were, what we write, that sort of stuff.  (Wow.  Admire that alliteration for a moment would ya?)

My ears tuned in on conversation to my right.  This unassuming fellow, Steve, was talking about the hit series “24″ and how he liked to write a recap of the program.  “I’m sort of embarrassed to say this, but they call me ‘The Amazing Steve.’”  Evidently he’s a fast writer and wipes out recaps quickly.

I had to tune into the conversation and offered, “Oh my!  On Dave Barry’s site there’s this fellow who writes these HILARIOUS recaps about 24!  They are SO STINKING FUNNY!  THEY MAKE ME FALL DOWN AND WET MY PANTS they are so hilarious!”  (Okay, I really DON’T wet my pants but women with bladder troubles- consider yourself warned.)

The other people that The Amazing Steve was talking to starting flapping their hands as though they were ready to take flight: “HE’S THE GUY!” they screeched.

I looked at this unassuming fellow again.  A computer guy by day he had told me.  And then he started blushing as I sucked all the wind out of the room, “OH.MY.GOSH!  YOU’RE the guy!  I read your column aloud to my hubby!”

I was gushing and he was blushing.  I can’t tell you how tickled I was.  This guy is a freakin’ comedic genius.  And you’d never know it to look at him.  (Which begs the question, what exactly does a humor writer look like?) Well, here….you look at these pics and you tell me:

This quiet guy is the comedic genius on Dave Barry's Blog?!

Then we argued over who was funnier. Not really, I just thought it sounded funny.

I decided that he was definitely more funny and left it at that. He is a great guy. I'd even say, "Amazing."

Now that I’ve told you about him, you simply MUST trot over to Dave’s Blog where the King of Humor himself mentions your need to read Steve’s comments.  And then buzz over to Steve’s blog and read his recap.  (And remember my earlier warning, ladies.)

Shifting gears now.  Another delightful surprise at the conference was the breakfast round tables.  There were little table tents stating the name of the person speaking and their topic.

Sam Horn- POP! Wow, I thought.  What an odd married name.  (I had considered being a Winn-LODE! at one time but it just didn’t work.) Joanne nudged me.  I think I know her, she said.  But I’m not sure, she added ominously.

She whipped out her phone and consulted with her hubby who is a huge reader and frequent conference attendee.

Joanne snapped her phone shut and said, “Daniel said we HAVE to meet this woman.  He said she is amazing!”

Wow.  Another Amazing person.  How lucky is this?

When Sam sat down, I knew we were in for a treat.  First, I learned her name was Sam Horn and the name of her recent book was, POP! That clears that up…

And we were off for the most power-packed, energetic course on public speaking I have ever heard in my life.  I want to be just like you when I grow up… (Gads, aren’t you glad people can’t see your thoughts floating above your head like in the cartoons?  But then again, I write waaay too many of my thoughts so there you have it.)

I want to write more about Sam tomorrow because she was, hands down, my favorite presenter at the conference.  I mean….she really rocked my world.

Here’s a pic of us:

Sam Horn is a wonderful person and dynamite speaker. She was my favorite presenter and I look forward to learning more from her via her book.

And that for now, folks, is a wrap.  The pool calls and fifty thousand other things after a very busy week! More on Sam manana.

The School Borg

I asked my good buddy and graphic artist extraordinaire, Dave Aldrich, if he could bring this idea to life.  If you’re not a Star Trek- Next Generation fan, you won’t get this.  But if you are, I present to you:

The School Borg- You will be assimilated!

Sea Fever Sunday

“Sea-Fever”

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

By John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)

And another thought on this rainy Sunday:

Who wants a life imprisoned in safety?” Line from character Amelia in the the movie by the same name, and a nod to Wayne Jacobsen for posting that little gem on Facebook.

What took you so long?

It is 9:00am on a typical weekend day in the Lode home.  We need to leave by 9:45am.

I make The Announcement. “It is 9:00.  The bus is leaving in 45 minutes promptly!”

Molly gives me a disinterested glance from behind her book.  She cozily snuggled under a pile of blankets on the couch.

Caleb, flashes me the frosty eye from his Xbox.

Daniel?  “MOM!  Listen to this new dial tone I created by soldering this circuit to this circuit.”  He’s popped in briefly from his lair to share his latest idea.

Jay needs just “another minute” on the computer.

Let’s see.  We’ll need a snack for later.  A book to read; we’ve got a bit of a drive.  Speaking of books, maybe we should swing through the library and drop off the books that are due in a few days.  And while we’re in the neighborhood, I should….

9:30am…

“We’re leaving in 15 minutes everyone! Jay? JAY?”

“Uh, yeah…just a minute…”

“Would you please check and see if Caleb still has a pulse?  And while you’re at it, unplug the Xbox.”

Molly is still reading.  I realize that I’m feeling VERY crabby because the telephone has been incessantly ringing from Daniel’s room.  He’s experimenting with ring tones.

9:40am…

I do the key jingling thing that my mom always used to do.  “I’ll be in the van!  Don’t hurry.”

“But, BUT…my shoes are wet!” “Mom have you washed any of my socks?”

“Lemme just finish this…”

9:47…

I have screeched, prodded, threatened and beaten everyone out to the van.  Wet shoes and all.

I gather up my purse and my book.

Oh wait.  Daniel left his light on. And then I spy the unlocked back door.  Is the coffee pot off? And oh shoot, Caleb didn’t start the dishwasher like he was supposed to and we won’t have any clean bowls for soup later this afternoon…. And doggone it…where is that other book???

The phone rings.  I glance at the Caller ID.  Call back, honey! It’s one of the kid’s friends.

9:55…

Good thing I know to pad my time estimates.  Closing the door behind me takes a feat of balance and dexterity worthy of an Olympic Gold, considering the load I’m carrying.

I stumble out to the van, two go mugs, a book bag over one shoulder, my gaping purse threatening spilling its guts when I lean over to pick up a tissue someone dropped on the sidewalk.

I collapse in the van.  Jay is serenely filing a fingernail.  Molly and Caleb are chattering about something.  On the radio, Brad Paisley is singing “Waiting on a Woman.”  If I ever, ever meet that man…I’m going to smack him….

And Daniel, who is lacing up his size 11’s in the aisle, asks,

What took you so long, Mom?

Molly, the monkey smuggler

Don’t ask me where she got them from.  One day they just appeared in our home.  Molly named them all “Bob.”  (Do you suppose she got the idea from George Foreman?)  And there’s about five of them….monkeys.  Stuffed monkeys. And they’re all alike.

“I’m going to bring them to school,” she announced the other evening.  “You’re not supposed to bring stuff like this to school,” she added.

But my, she is a cheeky lass.  She takes after her mom.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

She shrugged.

All was quiet for several hours when I peeked in on her.  She was sitting on her bedroom floor amid a blizzard of material scraps, thread and lengths of ribbon.

She twisted her back to me so I couldn’t see her project and shooed me away.  (“DON’T LOOK!”)

I was pecking away at the computer when she appeared in the doorway.

“It’s a Bob Bag,” she announced.  She was holding her creation by two pink ribbons that served as handles.  It was a patchwork affair, possessing a certain charm in its shoddiness.

“What exactly is a Bob Bag?” I asked.  We moms can be such ignoramuses.

“Tomorrow I’m bringing all the Bobs to school in it.”

She tossed the pink ribbon straps over her shoulder; one of the Bobs was peeking out the top.

The next day she reported the monkey smuggling operation went well.  It may even start a new trend, she said.

Sounds like fun to me.  More fun than a barrel of…er, more fun than a bag of Bobs.

Shortly after this the phone rang.  It was Daniel’s 18-wheeler truck driver, telephone collector buddy who’s rigged a rotary dial phone into his Blue Tooth.  He’s going to be in Nashville; would we like to meet?  Welcome to my Seinfeld-ish world. You can’t make this stuff up.

So Jay and Daniel met him.  I thought about sending the Bob Bag and its occupants; the quirkiness just seemed to fit meeting a guy with a rotary dial phone in his cab.

For Molly, it could come in handy….knowing a long haul truck driver, that is.  Especially if her monkey smuggling business grows.

Speak with conviction!

My friend, Obi Mom Kenobi posted a different version of this piece and  I thought it would fun to see the poet in action.   If you enjoy this, be sure and check out his performance of “The the impotence of proofreading“.  And then head over to his website and enjoy some more of poetry.

I absolutely adore this man’s work!

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