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    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...

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The school of Wally-World

Posted on November 10, 2010 by therealmotherlode

As a Free Range Educator, I’ve long contended that life is full of learning opportunities.  School is everywhere and there’s not a person on the planet that can’t teach me a thing or two.  (Yes, even the obnoxious person who reminds me of my own weaknesses.)

The clerk at Wal-Mart is just as valuable as a pedigreed professor when one begins to redefine “school.”  I talked about this before in the context of a checker back in Franklin, TN.   I always looked for Greg when I walked into the store.  I would even try to remember what days he worked on because it was a joy to end my shopping ordeal with his warm smile and upbeat attitude.

Yesterday Wal-Mart 101 was in session.  I always scan the line of checkers to see if there’s one that looks like they’re doing a decent job.  Brownie points if they smile.  By the time I make it through Wal-Mart, I feel like one of those hyenas you see in a nature film…feral and snarling and ready for trouble.  Finding a nice checker is not a choice I take lightly.

This is what I look after a shopping trip to Wal-Mart.

Yesterday I chose Brian.  He greeted me with a smile and as he packed my frozen goods into an insulated bag with the skill of a Rubik Cube master I commented, “You missed your calling as an engineer!”

He smiled and paused scanning my groceries.

“I was a commercial airline pilot,”  he stated. Holy crap, I thought as he waved my baked Doritos over the scanner and um, brought it in for a landing into my shopping bag.

“How did you end up in Wal-Mart?” I asked.  I recounted how my CPA husband had applied at Wal-Mart….and was offered an $8/hour position.  (Not exactly the high point of his career.)

I learned he wasn’t laid off; he jumped ship of his own accord.

He moved to little ole Cottonwood, AZ to take care of his ailing mom.  There’s a man with admirable priorities and an understanding of what’s really important in life.

And THAT ladies and gentlemen, is not something you will learn in a classroom.

Filed under: education, Free Range Education, Musings, Personal development, The Mother Lode column | 3 Comments »

What are you packing?

Posted on November 4, 2010 by therealmotherlode

Here’s an encore post from my Mother Lode column that ran in the Great Falls Tribune a several years ago….because my friend Mark asked “What is a UBawl?”

It began with a low frequency rumble. I knew it was coming. I wanted to stop it. Oh Dear Lord, how I wish I could make it go away! Away! Eyes squeezed shut, I offered fervent petition as I clutched my coffee mug. Please God….

No dice. The rumble grew. Cars began to circle up and down the street. I peered out the door. There it was. Red lights pierced through the acrid air that was rising from the ground like a scene from an apocalyptic movie. Ka-chung-chung-chung! A yawning chasm of despair stood to receive my family’s life.

Yep. It’s moving day. And my husband, Jay, just arrived with the “U-Bawl” moving van. And now this thing was backed up to my front door, the loading ramp at my feet. A puff of bluish smoke belched into the house as Jay turned off the motor. The cargo door was opened and I noticed that some wise guy hung an “All Ye That Hope Depart From Here” sign from the canvas strap.

Friends carrying go-mugs were soon lingering over the table where a power- breakfast of donuts and Little Debbie Nutty Bars sat. Being a woman of prayer this day, I quietly offered another prayer- this time that the upcoming sugar crash wouldn’t hit anyone until the boxes were loaded.

“Nice van,” my friend Marci quipped. She gestured to the side of the van. Instead of “Destination: Florida” or “America’s Dairy land- Wisconsin,” our van had “Destination: Looney Bin” emblazoned on its side. Crazed parents with wild-eyed children leaping from moving boxes were displayed in fluorescent color. The mother was clutching a bottle of Prozac and the father had a six-pack- holster style- strapped to his waist.

“Hey, we’re on a budget,” I explained. “Besides, the company threw in a helpful moving kit that included a discount certificate for Primal Scream Therapy and a one-month supply of Gingko Biloba so we wouldn’t forget to send out change of address cards to anyone.” I was about to explain how we could have gotten a cardiac monitor thrown in but I was interrupted.

“Whatz in here?” a big galoot asked. He was shaking a box I had marked, “U-Break, U-Die.”

“Great Grandmother’s China,” I replied. He shrugged and tossed it lightly onto a stack of boxes.

“Excuse me, WHO are you?” I asked.

Another friend stepped in. “Theresa, meet Hank. He’s a new friend of mine. He’s out of work right now and I invited him to come help.”

Hank had one heavy eyebrow bearing down on his eyes and bore a startling resemblance to Neanderthal Man. His arms, when he wasn’t tossing boxes, hung past his knees. Hank grunted a greeting, stuffed a maple bar in his mouth and gave the heave-ho to a box spring. (Note to self: Keep Hank away from my underwear drawer.)

Moving has become a bothersome habit for my family these past several years. But it’s not all bad. We’ve been forced to evaluate what we really need; gone are empty margarine tubs, college textbooks (circa 1985,) and broken bicycle parts.

In a country where shopping has become a recreation, it’s easy to have too much stuff. And when it’s time for a move, it makes for a heck of a lot of work too.

Moving makes me think about the other “stuff” in a family. The emotional stuff. Sometimes in a marriage, it’s easy to pack around stuff that’s better left behind. Wrong expectations, harboring grudges- these are just a few things that can burden down a marriage relationship. Throw in a stressful situation and the fun can really begin.

And like Great Grandmother’s China, I’m reminded to handle my children with care because harsh words and angry outbursts can shatter those most precious to me. (I especially need to keep this in mind as moving can make me crabby.)

But enough ponderings; it’s back to moving. Besides, I think I just saw Hank heading for my dresser.

Filed under: The Mother Lode column | Leave a Comment »

These shoes were made for shoppin’

Posted on July 29, 2010 by therealmotherlode

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.

Filed under: humor, Just for fun, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

The Mother Lode’s Power Bag Workout

Posted on March 23, 2010 by therealmotherlode

I was whining about my shin splint rehab to my friend Sheryl the other day when she mentioned a new fitness tool: Kettlebells.

“Kettle Bags?” I responded.  “You mean those things the Salvation Army uses…”

“No, KettleBELLS,” she replied patiently, she knows I’m a little slow sometimes.  Sheryl would make a good therapist.

I watched a short video of men squatting and grunting while swinging, their, um, Kettlebells, between their legs. Eeeeeeyooooouuuuuu.  There will no Kettlebells ringing in my future.

I poured myself some Diet Coke and and kept looking until I stumbled across something that really grabbed my attention:

Bulgarian Power Bag

Unleash the mental/physical potential within you!

This Bad Boy will set you back $215 + S&h

I’m all about unleashing potential. I scrutinized the buff young man wearing a very tight tee-shirt emblazoned with a fluorescent hammer and sickle.  Some Russian militant music was playing and I set down my Diet Coke.  This fitness stuff is serious business!

The web copy read:

The Bulgarian Training Bag is the ultimate extreme fitness tool for both serious Olympic caliber athletes and the average fitness enthusiast. If your (sic) looking for a method of training that maximizes your strength, muscular endurance, cardiovascular fitness, mobility, and overall explosiveness then continue to read.

Explosiveness, overall or even isolated events of such, is something I generally try to avoid but I kept reading…

The shape of the bag is designed to allow for both upper and lower body training while emphasizing grip strength at all times. The three different types of handles allow the athletes to execute exercises by using different grips. Every size bag and weight can be identified by the different colors of the strap handle.

I considered the assortment of eco-friendly bags from Aldi, Wal-Mart, among others, in the back of my Odyssey.  I continued…

The Bag strengthens and increases your muscular endurance of your grip, wrists, arms, shoulders, back, legs, rotational muscles, core musculature, coordination, proprioception and overall shoulder and joint mobility.

Wow!  I was getting jazzed imagining my new chiseled body. Now if could replace my Leno Chin Toning Workout, I’d be a happy camper.

Yeah, baby!

But then I read what was in that bag:

Sandbags, rice, bales, sacks loaded with hemp, heavy stones and war clubs were all used for the development of strength….

Why…why….That sounds like a trip to Wally World!  (Note to self: bring your war club next time.) And it was then my new idea began to coalesce:

Introducing the Wal-Mart Power Bag workout!

Do you feel the burn?

(Added bonus- car keys in mouth adds helps with chin toning.)  I can hardly wait to tell Sheryl about my new discovery.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a some videos to upload on Youtube.

Filed under: humor, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , , , | 4 Comments »

The art of Flung Shui

Posted on March 12, 2010 by therealmotherlode

I’m concerned about my washer.  It’s one of those fancy front loaders.  (“This bad boy has the rpm of a transatlantic jet turbine!” the young clerk gushed.  With assurances of  reduced power bills and jeans, that when washed in this puppy, would make my butt look smaller, we bought the set.)

The first hint of its terrible power came the day of delivery.  “You don’t want to put this on a second floor,” the delivery guy said darkly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I asked,  thinking of my new magical jeans.

His partner nudged him, muttered something in his ear and they scurried off, the tow dolly clunking merrily down the walk.

Life was fine while my new washer sat on a slab foundation house.  A little loud but tolerable.  But I gotta tell you, that small butt promise was pure hype.

“I need risers,” I told Jay one day.  I saw some in an Whirlpool ad.  The woman barely had to bend over to unload the washer.  And her butt definitely looked smallish.

“How much?” he replied.

I told him.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving one side a little prickly.  Time for a haircut, I mused.

He muttered something about the budget and knew I’d better leave that topic alone.

Time passed and we do what most normal people don’t do: we moved into another house.  But Providence had not forgotten me and Jay announced triumphantly one day that he had snagged a set of risers for a song at Lowes.

“I hope you don’t mind that the colors don’t match,” Jay said.  Are you kidding?  Mismatched colors…herniated discs….mismatched colors….chiropractor bills….I am SO over matching colors.

“Matching colors are overrated” I said. Jay installed the risers.

And then the fun began the next day on the maiden voyage of my new back friendly washer.

I was sipping a cup of Don Pablo in the living room when I thought I heard a Castanet marching band coming down the road.  I set down the java and look around.  Good grief, no more sausage for you, honey!

Nope that wasn’t it. I peered out the window but the coast was clear.

The tempo picked up and then I saw it: Jay’s oil painting, “Elvis the Cow” was clicking against the wall furiously in tempo to the spin of the washer.  And it looked like the massive ore boat painting was about to set sail.

I bolted to the washer closet; it was convulsing madly as though in the midst of a demonic exorcism.  I thought about shouting, “In the name of GeeeeeeeSUS!” but as soon as I drew in a big breath, I realized I was just in time to catch the box of my Costco detergent before it danced off the washer.  The pile of Nasties That Must Be Presoaked that I kept in their own special little tub were already cast about the room.

And then, as suddenly as the madness began….it halted and silence filled my ears.     I regarded my kitchen.  A crusty sock hung from my apron hook and another landed in the butter dish on the island.  (If I just scrape off the top layer, no one will ever know….)

In the living room, The EB Greene was listing to starboard and Elvis the cow was in a different pasture.

Cute young mommies– the kind who can proudly wear yoga pants practice and use trendy jogging strollers with cup holders for their skinny caramel macchiatos- extra foam and chocolate sprinkles…yeah,  those are the ones….practice Feng Shui.

I, on the other hand…flung shui.

Oh, who cares?  Even little butts look gross in yoga pants.

I’m still not sure what to do about that washer.  But I’m thinking that if I can get some hip marketing firm to help spread the word about the mystical power of Flung Shui, I could become a very, very wealthy woman.  Why, my crackerjack graphic artist, Dave Aldrich,  has already proposed a look for the book cover:


I think it’s destined to be a bestseller.  Especially if they tell woman it’ll make their butt look smaller.

Filed under: family life, humor, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , | 4 Comments »

What took you so long?

Posted on February 16, 2010 by therealmotherlode

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?

Filed under: humor, Just for fun, parenting, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , | 6 Comments »

Kool Aid- It’s not just for drinking anymore!

Posted on January 12, 2010 by therealmotherlode

I wish I had a GPS for my kids sometimes.  Then I could see where they’re going when they say something as innocuous as “Do we have any Kool Aid?”

But I quickly figured out the direction this conversation was headed when Molly then asked, “What would you think if I colored my hair bright pink?”  Yes, it was Molly.  The one with the gorgeous, cascading mane of red hair.  Molly, the girl who’s heard most of her life, “do you know women pay a lot of money for your hair color.”   My daughter.

I was pretty certain Rainbow Brite wasn’t looking for a new spokesgirl so I asked her why.She shrugged and said those words echoing in the homes of adolescents worldwide, “I dunno.”

Images of my daughter with florescent cotton candy hair and fishing tackle hanging from her nose flashed through my mind.  I could hear the gasps as she walks up to the piano to perform a Bach concerto at her next recital.  Would she want to start wearing a tee-shirt that says “I’m a baaaaaad girl.”  Oh sweet mercy, Jesus help me.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” So far, so good.  No quiver in my voice.

“I read online that I can use Kool Aid as a temporary hair color,” Molly said.  Oh Yeah. I could hear those commercials from the 70′s now running through my head.  (I probably suffer from some undiagnosed mental condition like Overactive Imagination Disorder.)

Hmmm.  That seemed reasonable.  Though it did flash through my mind that with a single letter change, I could turn “Kool” into “Kook.”  Kool Aid as hair dye.  Yes-  Kook Aid would be about right.

“You need to research a little more to make certain you’re not going to destroy your hair,” I advised.

Soon she was headed into our bathroom with a package of grape Kool Aid, a bowl and a wide tooth comb.  And a big smile.

She emerged afterward looking very drippy and smelling grapey.  Jay raised an eyebrow at me.  I shrugged trying to convey How much harm could this do?

Then I went into the bathroom.  Oh. My. Gawd.  It looked like the scene of Kool Aid Massacre.

"And in the News tonight, the beloved Kool Aid man found massacred in a Nashville suburban neighborhood. The chilling details at ten."

“MOLLY!  GET IN HERE!”

She showed up, purple streaks racing down her face.  She grinned.  ‘Uh, yeah?”

Given the amount of purple Kool Aid splattered everywhere, she could have blended right in with the amount of Kool Aid she was wearing.

Purple streaks were on the sink.  On the floor.  The mirror. How the HECK did that get in the tub?

She pushed a purple lock out of her eye with an cyanotic looking hand and shrugged.  A little purple river trickled from her ear.

What kind of a mother am I?I let my daughter dye her hair purple but then I get more upset over mess in the bathroom.

But I couldn’t get over the crime scene-ish feel to it.  I kept hearing  a cheery “Hey Kool Aid!” running through my mind.  I pictured yellow crime tape outlining the shape of that darn pitcher.

After order was restored Molly unveiled her new look.  Well sorta.  I was planning on the color not taking too well and that’s precisely what happened.  (Or would be that what didn’t happen?)  Of course, I knew there was a possibility my daughter would resemble a Popsicle.

I see that hand in the back of the class.  What kind of mother am I to let my daughter do that?  Actually, it’s a question that echoes in my own head.  Well, since I’ve already established the basis for a mental disorder with myself, that’s not an unreasonable question.

Choices.  It’s that wonderful….and potentially dangerous thing that God has granted every human.

I thought of all the goofy things I did as a teen and as a young adult…or as a middle aged adult.  And I’ve also thought of the times where I’ve prayed for direction and have felt a whispered What would you like?

It’s exhilarating when we realize the power of choice and it’s something I want to indulge with my kids as much as possible while they’re under my roof. That way when some choices end badly, we can help them walk through the consequences.

Molly did ask me if it would make me mad if she decided to really dye her hair pink.  I told her I think it would make me more sad than mad.

I told her I thought having pink hair would give people the wrong impression about who she is on the inside.  Told her that I hope she doesn’t play into the lies fed to girls about their appearances.  And we talked about choices.

Yes….until someone DOES invent a GPS for kids; you never know where a discussion will head.  But that’s okay because the real adventure isn’t in the destination, it’s in enjoying the journey.  And my kids continue to teach me things everyday.  Like how Kool Aid isn’t just for drinking anymore.

Filed under: family life, humor, parenting, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Wanna get a free copy of my new eBook?

Posted on January 8, 2010 by therealmotherlode

(She draws in a deep breath because….well, this is new territory and because I’m going to ask you for something.)

Ready?  Subscribe to my blog…by January 15.

That’s it.

Click on the button in the left sidebar, enter your email address to subscribe and that’s it.  I’ll send you an eBook.

This is a shameless attempt to increase my readership base so there you have it.

I won’t send you junk email…won’t send cutesy forwards to you…or “if you love me send this back” emails.

Feel free to forward the eBook to anyone you think may enjoy it.    And as always, I welcome your comments.  (Especially positive ones since we writers can be so darn needy.  ;) ))

Oh.  Another thing.  I am VERY low tech so this is NOT an automatic download.  I have to check the blog for email addresses and then email out the eBooks.  And finally….this will be good until January 15 after which time it will be $5.95.  :)

Oh, one more thing.  You have to subscribe to the blog, NOT just the comments.  It’s a WordPress thing.  Why, I don’t know.

Ready or not….here I go!

Filed under: humor, Putting the Fun in DysFUNction, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , | 4 Comments »

Snowflake spotted- City shuts down!

Posted on January 7, 2010 by therealmotherlode

The actual photo responsible for shutting down Middle Tennessee

FRANKLIN, TENN (AP)- It started out as a typical day for Vivian Meekers.  The 47-year-old was getting ready for work when she went outside to warm up her car.  Fate interrupted her plans.

“It was right there. On my windshield,” she says, adding  “I knew I needed to do something, and fast.”  The quick thinking librarian called 9-1-1 and set in motion the wheels of a well-oiled emergency response team.

What follows is a portion of the actual 911 transcript:

911 operator: 9-1-1, what is your emergency?

Meekins:  A SNOW FLAKE!  It’s a SNOWFLAKE for crying out loud!!!

911- Ma’am, I need to you calm down.

Meekins: It’s right here!  I’m looking at it right now!

911-Ma’am, calm down!  Does your cell phone have a camera?

Meekins: Uh, yeah….I’m sorry…this is so upsetting…

911- Okay, Ma’am…I need you to SNAP a photo of this. Take a deep breath.

Within moments of that phone call, the emergency weather team headed up by the hyperventilating Leesha Paddon of the channel 6 News Team interupted regularly scheduled programming.

Franklin Kroger Manager, Alvin Whitehead was one of the first to hear.  “We are set up on a ‘First Flake Alert’ system so I knew it was coming before the general public was aware of what was going on.”

“People might find it amusing but we take the increased demands for milk and bread very seriously,” Whitehead says.  He adds that one year a skirmish by the dairy case ended badly when two housewives duked it out over the last gallon of two percent.

Soon, banners announcing school closures and weather warnings were scrolling across every TV in the Midstate area.  Even those that were turned off.

Emily Throttlebottom, 23, was shopping for a new TV in Best Buy when she saw the news.  “It was especially frightening seeing all those warnings flash on the ninety-seven inch plasmas, but I knew I needed to get over to Kroger and quickly,” she says.  “I had  just bought milk and bread yesterday but, I don’t know, like, I just felt compelled.”

She notes the drive to Kroger had an apocalyptic feel to it, “It was like, really freaky, seeing all those, like, helicopters.”

The helicopters are the latest addition to the First Flake Alert forces.  Paddon states, “We take snow very, very seriously.”

Thanks to the quick intervention of so many, the citizens of Middle Tennessean can breath easy.  Maybe.

Latest updates reveal that the snow warning has been downgraded to a “Very real, frightening possibility of the possibility of more snow.”

Paddon urges viewers  to drop everything and continue monitoring  the TV for further weather bulletins as they become available.  “One can’t be too careful,” she says.

Filed under: Current events, humor, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , , | 4 Comments »

It’s almost here!!!

Posted on January 6, 2010 by therealmotherlode

Here’s the intro to the 45-page eBook:

Introduction
Welcome to the dysfunctional world of Theresa Lode, AKA
The Mother Lode.
It’s a place where Shiny Object Syndrome (SOS) strikes with
alarming frequency, Amish Friendship Bread morphs into
“Enemy Bread” and chicken farming is begun on a whim.
Where the words, “Remember, we’re a nice normal family” are
regularly hissed at the kids and the bottom of an empty coffee cup
is thought to be one of the saddest sights on the planet.
The Mother Lode is all about finding humor in the challenges of
motherhood and life in the Middle Ages.
You’ll meet “Marcella,” my bad angel and “Angie” my good angel.
These two have a lot of discussions in my mind. (Some would
contend this is a basis for medication.)
If dressing rooms terrify you and your idea of a good time is
being alone in your clean house, you’re in good company.
As my Aussie friends say, grab a cuppa, put your feet up and spend
a little time in my dysfunctional world. Things in your world may begin to look better.

Stay tuned….

Filed under: humor, Putting the Fun in DysFUNction, The Mother Lode column | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

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