Tag: thought

A Writer’s Character Secret

Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me.  When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write.  I write for relaxation. 

A Writer’s Character Secret

September 21, 2022

Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me.  When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write.  I write for relaxation.  It feels fun, challenging, and often makes me happy to be in my ”book worlds” I have made up. 

For me, my “book worlds” allow me to explore things I can’t in this life.  It’s like dreaming with my eyes open.  I switch from book in progress to book in progress – I am currently working on about 18 titles actively.  My mood in real life decides whom I want to step into in my brain.  I know where each of my characters are in the stories – I know where I left them.  Thus, I reread the last few paragraphs and dive in with whatever comes next. 

Like my teenage self – lots of writing done then.  I started when my father noticed I was “wasting” my school notebooks for stories, and he suggested I type them.  I had a shoebox filled with 3.5”disks containing three or four stories each! 

Imagine:

Her frustrations, emotions, dreams, adventurous spirit, and everything hidden deep within her as she worked her way through these books were laid out in her own stories tapped at a furiously increasing pace in MS Works on her father’s computer saved on a 3.5” disk.  Her first completed story was her take on a true abortion survivor story.  She became her characters.  Her characters acted out and solved the problems she was facing.  She talked and acted her characters and plotlines out while raking, mowing, or gardening in various locations.  She was Erakk.  Fighting to keep his character sound when faced with odd decisions he’d rather avoid.  She was Jordan.  Her desperate heart cry to be understood and learn how to teach bloomed from his soul in what was to become “Web of Deception.”  She was Kelly.  She was the girl struggling to lead and keep everyone together as their tiny band of outcast survivors developed a whole new world of peace and love.  She became Kelly.  The woman who mothers with an understanding she has gained from life and full dependence on Jesus.  She was Kalina.  She boiled with anger and frustration at not being allowed to do the things she desired with every fiber of her being and ended up learning that what she really wanted was only a small step in a journey back to what her elders had advised her to reach for in the first place.  She was Ethan.  An outcast in his own mind searching quietly for a sense of belonging he thinks he can make on his own despite the true reality that those close to him care deeply for him.  She was Jamie.  Facing challenges that feel too far above his age and making choices that defy the expectations of those above him; always choosing the answer of integrity and honor.  She became Philip.  Overcoming challenges in life that happened beyond his control yet bringing everyone along and pushing his family through to success in the end.  She was Jo.  Fiercely defending her sister from evils that trick the heart and destroy those close to her – blinding everyone except her.  She was Jason.  Defending his family from evils that weaseled their way into his family from years of incorrect choices by three generations behind him that build to forcing his father into being possessed into something he isn’t – now he has to choose to believe that the threads he holds onto are his father’s true self and force the evil away. 

The stories continue.  Some are finished.  Some may never be…

A writer puts himself into the shoes of his characters and wriggles his toes around.  We walk lifetimes in their shoes.  We put ourselves in each character we create. 

I always have a character in a book or series that I consider my shadow; sometimes it is the protagonist like Jordan in Web of Deception.  Sometimes it is a supporting character like Philip Duggar in Brantley Station Saga or Kelly in The Devonians. 

Oftentimes there are bits of me in each character.  Strange thoughts…

I know, crazy writer’s brain, but that’s what I feel.  That’s what it’s like to write for me. 

If you stuck through this one, thank you ever so much for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Hold Longer

August 17, 2021

Hold Longer

A song came on the radio today. It was the first time I heard it. Casting Crowns’ song called “Scars In Heaven” played while I was on the way to after school pickup.

The first line says “…if I had known it was the last time…”

I almost cried. I prayed, “thank you, Jesus,” because the last time I saw my Daddy on Earth I did “know.” It was a nudge, a distant feeling I almost tried to brush aside in disgust.

Of course this isn’t the last time I’ll talk with Daddy, I told myself.

But I listened to the nudge. I’m forever thankful for that nudge.

I waited until I would be almost late to pick Christina up from the library (it was going to close). I hugged him tighter than normal. I did just what the singer of the song is lamenting he didn’t do. I have always tried to listen to that tiny nudge of a voice that usually is right in the back of my head. My mind usually tries to argue with it. Like then. I tried to brush that feeling away because even though my Daddy’s health wasn’t great, I didn’t want to believe I would ever walk in and not find him sitting there, ready for long talks, vibrant discussions, and heartfelt conversations.

I heard the singer’s heart hurt as he sang of how if he’d known, he would have held on longer, hugged tighter, talked longer… But we never really know.

God tells us no man knows the hour or day of his own passing.

My father and baby sister are in heaven. My baby never met her Boompa. I didn’t really cry or grieve for them. They were both prepared for death. Both loved Jesus and are now in His presence. I can’t logically cry for them. (I’m way too logical over deep things but I find it’s the silly little stuff that makes me cry.) I wasn’t ready for either of them to go. Just like we are often not ready to die, we are also never ready for a loved one to die.

My Daddy gave me a special gift long ago… He had grown up without his mother (she died when he was 12) and when we were living in Sylvania and had a friend with cancer, he once said, “enjoy every day, you never know when Erica will go home.”

So true. I couldn’t even cry for her. She loved Jesus and let everyone know how excited she was about getting to see Him.

That life lesson has stayed with me. I never don’t say bye or I love you. I leave them with a smile. I don’t ever want someone’s last thought of me or my last thought of them to be bitter. I live as if each time I leave someone it may be the last time I see them. Not that I’m reckless or clingy, but I’m open, honest, and speak the truth about my love for them.

I never want someone to regret their last meeting with me.

I always listen to that nudge. I’m so grateful for God’s warning I got that afternoon… For the happy call from Charley in Mom’s kitchen six months later with Mom & Mary when I brought Christina to loan her some deposit money… For the happy memories of talking a bit longer, hugging a bit tighter, saying “I love you” before I left.

Always hold a bit tighter, hug a little stronger, chat a bit longer; always say “I love you.”

I hope you listen to that song. I pray you always remember to love while you have the time.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Where Do I Start?

March 15, 2021

Where Do I Start?

Have you ever wanted to start writing and looked at a blank paper or computer screen and thought, “okay, how do I start?”

*Raises hand and waves it frantically*

Honestly, I just go for it. 

Maybe I’ll edit and cut or rewrite the start later.  Sometimes what is the start turns into a midsection, gets edited out, becomes a draft outline, or even moved to a later story!  In “The Symbol of El Adame” (book in the works!!), the first piece I wrote is buried in the fifth or sixth chapter.  In “Web of Deception: Child of Miny’lyra” I wrote over 120 pages of copy that was deleted or squeezed in somewhere as back story.  The original start was during an advancement in Ja’hline that doesn’t exist anymore except as a memory in Jordan’s mind (and mine).  The first line I wrote for the “Adventures of Long Tail” books became a draft outline that never made it to a book!  The first written paragraph for the “Brantley Station Saga” became the beginning of book three (Becky’s begging for the “Pirate Baby Story” changed that). 

I will say that every first line of “Five Alive: Stories of the Funny Sisters” books and “The Devonians” books stay the start.  I wrote all of the Five Alive stories on the fly remembering a specific event and knew how I wanted it to start.  All of the Devonians stories follow a huge overlay outline that plots the start and end dates of each book and the timelines within each for the specific book and the overall story.  (Yes, I’m really nerdy about continuity – so much so that I’ve paused this series indefinitely as I lost my “Devonians” folder with all my Devonian maps and building plans when we moved last.  When I find it or redo the entire structure of the Devonian world, I will restart on my favorite children’s book series.)

When you can’t think of something to start with, just put your thoughts on the paper. 

Don’t stress.  You can always change it later.  That’s the cool thing about modern technology or writing with a pencil and paper (and eraser).  You can just clear it and rewrite, rephrase, or start all over.  The control key + backspace is your best friend when drafting emails and texts.

Remember that in today’s world, once you’ve posted a blog or status or tweet, it can’t be undone.  There is no “Ctrl-Z” in real life.  There is no real deleting of posts, texts, or emails once they’ve been sent. 

Still facing that blank screen or paper? 

WRITE!  Just start.  Rewriting is 75% of the writing process.  Maybe more.  Write.  Proof, edit, rewrite, proof again, edit again, rewrite again (repeat until satisfied).  In my case it’s “repeat until you run out of time” because I never think my work is good enough.  Ever.  It can be just this blog post, a children’s book, or a novel.  I never am truly satisfied with anything I write. 

Hope this blog encourages you to write!  Let your story out (or write you school essay)!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Evaluations

January 29, 2021

Evaluations

This week and next week are skills testing weeks at gym. Evaluations of skills each gymnast has and their ability to move up or stay in their current level to solidify their knowledge.

Most of the time, the coaches catch when their student gymnast gets enough skills and strength or knowledge to move up, but sometimes it takes a “skills test” for a gymnast to show off or put a little more power into her actions!

This made me think about life.

Life is full of levels.

Sometimes we just move through them seamlessly. You know, like gliding from toddlerhood to preschool, or moving from 9th to 10th grade. High school to college is a little more of a push – this is like an evaluation. Are you ready? Well, time is here – which choice do you make?

In our personal growth, we tend to move slowly. It’s when a climatic event causes us to evaluate ourselves that we discover strengths we didn’t know we had or weaknesses we thought we didn’t have. Your eldest child going to college and you are tossed into the whirlwind of various choices, plans, financial issues, helping your young adult navigate stress (praying you can do that well, because she is expressing what you are internalizing!), and believing that a way will be made.

This time you have to view as a positive change. You have to realize that this temporary negative appearance will prove to be the lifetime starting point for your young adult. Your attitude through this is your “evaluation,” your young adult will be taking notes on and remembering. (Everyone else in your household is also watching!)

Sometimes a life “evaluation” is others watching how you navigate troubled waters. Like the death of your father, your sister, your close friend, your child. Losing someone you treasure. That despair can allow you to create a pit to lose yourself in. Or you can look up and pull on the strength that only comes from Jesus. This evaluation is never something we want to face.

Evaluation week went along with my study: Examine yourself to see what is good and right; remove that which leads toward darkness.

(My paraphrase again, I summarized the page-long study to that line. Most of the verses linked all boiled down to that same line as my brain interpreted them.) I imagine darkness to be the depth of one’s soul without Jesus. Since Jesus is Light and darkness is the absence of light, that makes the most sense to me.

See, when trouble hits, I can either turn inside myself and go into darkness or look outside and reach up to Jesus. In Him there is strength to endure everything.

Life has taught me that.

My “evaluations” have proven it.

I pray I always choose to reach up. I want those watching me during “skills testing” to be led to Jesus. That is my goal.

Crazy writer’s brain that sees the little flyer on our desk that reads “skills testing weeks” and launches into deep thoughts… hopefully these wandering thoughts help lift you up!

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

Rubik’s Cube

Is life like a Rubik’s Cube?

August 15, 2020

Rubik’s Cube

Jillian’s friend gave her a Rubik’s Cube to solve. After a full day off and on of spending probably two or three hours attempting it, Jillian gave it to Jaquline and said, “this puzzle is too complicated!”

Jaquline has been trying her hand at it since. She’s one of those kids who stick to the problem until it gets solved so I’m sure eventually she will figure it out. On the way to work this morning Christina and I hear, “oh really!” and a wail.

“What?” we both ask.

“I was sooooo close!” and she passes the cube to Christina in the front seat with one side one square from being all one color. Christina, who has solved a few Rubik’s Cubes in her time, suggests, “start with the corners and try to match the colors two blocks at a time.”

Another wail a few seconds later and the furious almost silent swish, tap, tap, swish of the plastic blocks being moved around. Another wail. Swish, tap, tap, tap… “Yes!” Tap, tap, swish, swish. Dramatic groan, “this is too complicated.”

Encouragement from the front seat, “you can get it,” and “keep trying!”

“Roll On” by Alabama comes through my head.

Life sometimes seems like a Rubik’s Cube.

You get everything lined up the way you think it should be and turn the corner to discover… bam! It isn’t lined up! Fix that problem and solve that issue, turn another corner and nothing looks in order. Changes happen. I think of watching a younger friend when I was younger. He could solve the cube in whatever mess it was within what appeared to be a few twists.

All of us in life have been given Rubik’s Cubes aka “Life” to solve and various levels of frustration mount as we try to solve the puzzle by ourselves. Sometimes everything looks like it is lining up, but we turn a corner and look at a mess. Sometimes we created it, sometimes we didn’t have any control over it, sometimes it was messed up by someone we love or trusted. It isn’t lining up the way we wanted.

The first normal reaction is irritation and frustration – that stage where we try to fix it ourselves by pulling us up by our own bootstraps. In my experience those bootstraps generally tangle us up instead of help us regain our footing. I imagine we are pulling our footing right out from under ourselves – funny, right?

Or we could play the blame game – doesn’t solve anything and only makes us feel bad and alienate us from whomever we consider “the problem.”

Or we could hand our Rubik’s Cube of life to God and let Him direct our puzzle. This is like watching a master puzzle solver. Swish. tap. tap. swish. That looks worse… Tap. tap. swish. swish. Wow. How is that possible? Now all sides are each a solid color.

It looks like magic in the master’s hands.

Next time I feel like wailing because something just isn’t lining up, I hope I remember that image of the Rubik’s Cube in a master puzzle solver’s hands and think of how my life is like a Rubik’s Cube and I need to hand it to God and let Him solve my crazy mess – lead me the way He wants my life to go and then I can see the beauty of order only He can see in my chaos.

Crazy writer’s brain thoughts, I know, but hopefully it makes you smile.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Watching & Analyzing

Watching & Analyzing

April 27, 2019

I’ve always been a watcher.  I watch the world around me and (most of the time) analyze it.  I look at a beautiful blue sky and my mind says “wow, how pretty,” and quickly follows with “it won’t rain for the next few hours.”  (Yes, hours, we live in Florida – if you walk outside and don’t like the weather, go brush your teeth and check again.)

Honestly, I analyze too much.

I shouldn’t catch a glimpse of something and try to analyze it.

In relationships, that is nosy.  See someone and instantly turn on your inner Sherlock Holmes… (Four different cat hairs on her skirt, four cats – her house must be smelly… unless she uses that whatever-name-it-is-I-saw-on-tv multi-cat litter.  Is her purr-fume laced with tuna?)

That just isn’t nice.

In normal life, it can suck out the joy.

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I catch this glance of my angel sleeping.  Instant thought: “My Mom will love this.” Second thought: “She was two months old on Easter Sunday.”  Third thought as I’m sending my mom the picture: “Daddy never saw her.”  Followed quickly by a flood: Daddy didn’t get to hear about Christina flying, Lucas will not remember his Grandfather, they won’t get to learn how amazing Daddy’s brain was – like talking to an educated encyclopedia with an open mind.  He was always listening, always talking, always making connections where we couldn’t see them; always the analyst.

Within two minutes (from the time I took the picture until Mom texted back), my mind had sent my mood from joyful to sorrowful.  From excited about young life to regretting the passing of my Daddy.  I had just rode an emotional roller coaster at work and nothing had changed on my face.

I forced myself to refocus.

Daddy always expected Christina to achieve her dreams – he once told me to “look out, she has your determination and a friendlier world; just you watch what she does!”

Lucas loves watching family videos and listening to stories of his “Santa Boompa” told by his big sisters.

I inherited Daddy’s knack for soaking up knowledge (probably why I can make myself learn any new job rather quickly) and if you want to start me talking… (yes, the girls call it lecturing) enter at your own risk because I’ll make strange connections, see beyond what is easily seen, and read into situations for what “could be.”

I remind myself that we can always shift our focus to the positive, and that’s what Daddy would have wanted.  He didn’t want anyone sad when he left us.  He always wanted the joy, smiles, and laughter that he tried to cultivate.  So, now I’m back to joyful.

Then music runs through my head: “I Choose Joy!” (For King & Country – I love that song!)

Yes, I choose joy.  Everyday.  I pray you do too.

 

Type at you Later…

~Nancy Tart

Songs and Movies… How can that make me cry?

Why does she cry? Even she doesn’t know, but the right song or movie certainly can start it.

February 6, 2019

Songs and Movies…

It has almost been two months since my Daddy passed.

I can’t find it to cry, normally.  If I think about crying, I remember how happy he is in heaven.  Then crying feels selfish – because I know he was in pain every day here.

But sometimes, I can’t explain it.  And it’s always a song or a movie.  And even that doesn’t always make sense.

I was coming home from work one early afternoon and on comes “Small Town Southern Man.”  No, that wasn’t my Daddy, but the core of the song “…He bowed his head to Jesus… always loved one woman, was proud of what he had… he said his greatest contribution was the ones he left behind…” Yes, that was my Daddy.

I was bawling when the next one happened to be “Love Without End, Amen” – which yes, didn’t need any alteration and went all the way to heaven.  I’m glad my car has cruise control and I’ve been driving 207 for over 20 years.

A song.  A movie. (okay, this one was crazy)   Never saw it with my Daddy, but he had given it to us.  Annapolis.  A story of a determined young person getting to his goal – my Daddy liked stories with real character.  At the end of the film, Louis comments, “I know why your Dad liked that one.” And that was it.  Not that anyone else saw, but I ended up tearing up over the simple thought that I can’t ever discuss this film with Daddy.  It had so many side stories and threads woven this way and that – prime film material for our long-drawn-out discussions.

Whenever something makes me want to cry, I remember the silliest of song lyrics/movie lines and it’s really odd that those four lines remind me of Daddy because he didn’t like that movie. (I’m not a fan or having that one on continual repeat, either.)  “He lives in you.”  And, yes, my mind sings it.

I’m thankful for memories.   I’m thankful for times when I hear my Daddy in my siblings and children – just things he often said or quirky humorous lines.  I almost cried when I first saw my little brother in his new glasses with the hat and stubbly beard – because if the beard were a bit longer, that is how I remember my Daddy (from when I was a toddler) and my little brother is a spitting image (face) of my Daddy.

I feel sad that Daddy won’t see Teddy or Thea (our Baby, named after his/her great-grandfather Pearson) but I know I’ll keep “Living the Legacy” (another song… yes) and just like the girls don’t “remember” their Great-Grandmother Jeanette yet they know her love and life through us, my children will know their Grandfather Pearson’s legacy because it’s in us – and my extension, also in them.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Determination Versus Stubbornness

Can our perception affect whether we interpret the same character trait as either positive or negative?

January 16, 2019

Determination versus Stubbornness

Your perception (how you look at something) certainly affects your outlook on things that come into your life.

For instance: you can see your child’s stubborn refusal to allow you to fasten their shoes as pure rebellion.  (And it may well be.)

Or you can choose to think (as they fumble with the laces for the sixth time and you know their 3-year-old hands are not quite ready for tying shoelaces – but he just has to wear big sister’s purple shoes because they “fit better,” which they don’t) “Wow, he is determined to do it himself.”

Stubbornness versus determination.

Those two character traits really are the same thing, only when we choose to see something as determination, we see it in a positive light.  When we choose to see something as stubbornness, we think of that action negatively.

Our perception of those character traits causes our outlook when we see them in use to either be positive or negative.

I wish I could say I always manage to see the positive, but unfortunately, no.  On this occasion, I was in a hurry to get going and my first reaction was frustration at his stubbornness.  I almost reacted with that first thought, but reconsidered as one shoe was flung from foot to shoe cubby.

“Is it too hard to tie?” I asked.

Lucas’ response when he can’t do something is to fume in silence and embarrassment.

“Maybe we should leave Jillian’s shoes so she can use them and use your brown boots instead.”

Lucas perked up; his “brown boots” are high-top (boots) sneakers with a camo strip and three strong Velcro closures. (I love that someone who studied burrs on his dog’s fur created Velcro!)  Lucas knows he can put those shoes on himself.

“I put them on myself!” Lucas announced once his feet were shod.

Determination.

Someday, because of his determination, he will be putting on lace-up sneakers and tying them – hopefully, though, it will be another pair instead of big sister’s obviously feminine shoes.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Pondering in My Heart

My pregnancy brain thoughts about Mary in her culture and her time – and how it relates to us in our time.

December 24, 2018

Pondering in My Heart

It’s Christmas Eve.

Usually, at this time, my mind overflows with thoughts about Mary, Jesus’ mother.  I think about her boldness when she says “let it be to me as you have said.”  I think about how the Bible always adds this little line after something she hears or watches; “and Mary pondered this in her heart.”

I especially feel empathy over the Christmases when I’ve been pregnant.  (2009 and 2011 when my babies came a few days into the new year were very busy with my pondering… so much that I wrote a children’s story about Jesus’ birth one of those years!)  This year, my little blessing is due to show up in about eight or ten weeks.

I like to study the culture of the person I’m trying to study: the historical significance of their world, the turmoil they faced, the cultural norms that differ from what we have today.   These little details help me to step into their shoes and wiggle my toes around. I like to imagine what it would have been like to be Mary, likely between 12 and 14 years old, among her Jewish community controlled by an Empirical Roman government when highways were roamed by soldiers and bandits, family and community were everything (so doing something against the community would have been horrid), and the talk of sedition (rebellion) was strong and swiftly crushed.  I wonder about her life: her childhood, her struggles as a parent, wife, and community member.  I remember that when she said “let it be unto me…” she was just a normal girl allowing God to use her.

She was like any one of us.

She had to humble herself before God and she doubted; as she even said, “but how can this be…” questioning the miracle before agreeing to be part of it.

She must have been a logical thinker like me.  “…pondered this in her heart…” That is what I do all the time.  Whether or not I speak, write, or pray about it, I think about everything that God surprises me with in life.  I want to put the puzzle together, but realize that God knows far more than me so I relax and resign myself to just “pondering” (thinking) and praying about what I don’t understand.

I love how the Bible uses real, authentic people.  People just like you and me are scattered in every story.  Every one of them has doubts, challenges, questions, obstacles, and life choices just like us.  Every one of them must make their own decisions, just like us.

We like to think of them in their glory – after they’ve moved to where they are in victory.  We remember David killing Goliath, Samson destroying the false temple, Mary as Jesus’ mother at or after his birth, Peter evangelizing, Paul traveling all over the known world, etc.  But each of them started as a normal person who had to make his or her own active choice to give of themselves and allow God to take the lead.

During Christmastime when I’m constantly rereading the story of Jesus’ birth to my children, I’m reminded that I have to humble myself and allow God to continually take control in my life so I can be and do what God has planned for me.  I encourage you to give God control over every aspect of your life – He designed you, He knows you best!  He knows the desires of your heart and sometimes you may not even know them yourself!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

Wimpy Atlas

Ever feel like everything in the world is raining down on your shoulders and you can’t keep anything up? That was today…

December 20, 2018

Wimpy Atlas

Am I the only one who feels like Atlas with wimpy shoulders sometimes?

Yesterday was a good example:

I got up at 5:30am to work, the guy cancels as I’m just on the road.  Bummer.

Get back home, waste of a half-hour prep and 20 minutes gas and time, but I try to stay positive.  My breathing flared up; can’t lay down to go back to sleep.  Grrrrr… hot tea and honey while I work on my character cards for the 6th in The Devonians – 26 characters in this one because it is set during a community planting season.

I write a program for translating ages – this will make future work easier.   I had my tea.  I hoped I would avoid having to take the allergy pill (discovered a natural antihistamine as I’m allergic to both Benadryl and the emergency inhaler I was supposed to be taking 4 times a day, but I still prefer not to take anything).   I pick up the second ride.  I’ve now made $20.

I chose not to dwell on sad things pinging around the back of my brain.

But when I got home about 11, I was starved.  I made my Shakeology because Louis wasn’t hungry (the kids had already eaten, and I wasn’t going to make a whole breakfast just for me).  Louis took the next call so I could finish eating.  I gathered all my stuff into neat little piles so I could use my tools to guide my story.  Christina needed help on an Algebra problem so I set my Shakeology cup down.

But… (that word NOT in the positive this time!)

As I finished with Christina’s problem *BAM* I turned and knocked the full Shakeology cup over ($3.50 meal – I hate waste)!   *SPLASH* the broken blinds, the window, the lamp, the wall, EVERY ONE of my 26 cards, my hand-written “cheat sheet” I’d created almost a year ago for the Devonians families, and the floor are covered in goo.  Imagine slightly soupy pudding – that’s the consistency of Shakeology + coffee.

Immediately, as quickly as the drops of fluid, everything negative that I was trying to hold back rained down on my brain.

The evening before, Mom got Daddy’s ashes… all that’s left of his body is in two boxes on her table.

Didn’t get to stop by Mom’s on the way home (*thoughts* you are a horrible daughter.)

Didn’t get to snuggle on the couch with Lucas because I was cleaning while he fell asleep (horrible mom.)

Didn’t get to fix my pie or anything to take to the party (horrible guest.)

I had to drive in the morning but only had two calls & the would-be big one canceled (horrible provider.)

Lucas wanted me to play trains… I was busy teaching (again, you never play with him!)

…and on and on and on… my brain just rained down things I wished I could have done differently, things I wanted to do but hadn’t, and things I should have done.

I felt like the world was falling on my shoulders and squishing me flat.

Now I was hungry, it was noon, and the very next call was “make some rice for lunch” because we had one pound of beef in the freezer and “stir-fry would be good.”  All I wanted was to type my frustrations out and make another Shakeology to actually eat.  I wanted to get to my vitamin shake before I went to work at 2. (I was leaving early to stop by my mom’s today!)

I read somewhere that a mother is the Chief Mood Officer in her home.  When I start getting lost in emotion, I remind myself of that.  I turned on Christmas music, started cleaning so I could start rice, and prayed I’d be able to pull my own mood up (and keep the house from growing dark).  My siblings’ party is tomorrow.  I can choose to shift my focus on the positive.  Hopefully it works!

*By the way* I didn’t get my shake until I was on the way to work, my mom wasn’t home when I got to her house, and on… BUT I was working playroom so had brought my Devonians folder and was able to use the 40 “lost” minutes to recreate some of the destroyed cards.  I forced myself to focus on the positive again… this week has been a constant challenge for me.  God.  God is totally in control. (I just need to lean on Him – His shoulders are not weak.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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