Summer Dichotomy

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom act as one with our very soul.

summer di·chot·o·my

1. Division between parental unit and offspring in the months of June, July & August in the USA.

2. Division into mutually exclusive, polar opposites or contradictory family units revolving around separate versions of reality involving issues regarding laundry, cooking, edible food groups, friends, hours of sleep, hygiene, cleanliness, treating parents like mobile ATM"s and the definitions of need vs. want in the non-school mandated time schedules

3. The fine line between calm friend-based parenting and outright dictatorship, reciting penal codes and the definition of the right side of the law in the months proceeding last report card and the annual anticipation of a child living at home for life because they cannot function in "real" society, i.e. hold a job, manage money or live a healthy life.

Ahh, summer time. Hot breezes are blowing, beautiful colors are blooming & time seems never ending-- never ending bickering over who ate all the ice cream, what chore which child was oblivious to carrying out this week and whose turn it is to walk the dog. Tempers flare each morning (the parents), swearing is abundant (the kids) and the house is waist deep in unwashed laundry, food crusted frying pans, wet towels & dirty socks while empty pop cans, tiny juice box straws, Popsicle sticks & freezi-pop wrappers line the backsides of couches, beds and closets.

And it doesn't matter what you do. Get up early, and pick up the mess before work. Leave notes with carefully devised chore lists for them to do while you work. Stay up late with them and get everyone to pick up the clutter together. It just grows. And it ferments. And impregnates itself and doubles overnight. My Mom always had the perfect house, and God help us if we left a wet suit on the carpet in our bedrooms, she would hunt us down to pick it up before we even did it. She was that good.

I can't seem to get that tight a grip. I just try to stop the hemorrhaging of excess to keep some semblance of order. Empty the garbage, change the bag. Load the dishwasher. Throw the towels in the laundry. Run upstairs, get the laundry on the floor up there, run downstairs, stoop down, pick up the lone wash cloth in the middle of the upstairs hall. Smile happily that all looks good, come home at night, put on hip boots, rewind, repeat, do over. Especially the darn wash cloth in the upstairs hall. Pick it up again.

Laundry can reach comical proportions with us, it can be 15 loads deep and funny to even try to dress, find the socks, the underwear, harvest a clean towel or wash cloth. More than once one boy was running through the house screaming at the other to stop wearing his underwear. Too funny. And look, there's no wash cloths again. Do more laundry, repeat, do over. Pick up, there's the loan wash clothes again.

I couldn't figure out the wash cloths, its not like the kids are picking up the laundry off the floor of the upstairs bath & dropping them on their way downstairs to the laundry room; why are they up on the floor all the time? And then Colleen stopped; we're chatting while my hubby changes her oil.In her car (get your mind out of the gutter). And she stop mid-sentence, and talks in her voice reserved for very small children, "Now Molly where are you going with that wash clothe?" And there's the dog, creeping up the stairs real slow like she does when she's stolen chicken wings out of the garbage & doesn't want us to see she's eating out of Molly's take out AGAIN.

She's been eating the darn wash clothes, picking them up and carrying them upstairs. Wow, maybe I can train her to pick up the rest of the stuff. You tube here we come. I can make my millions, and hire a darn maid to get through these summers. But you know what? When they're all gone in a few years, I am sure I will miss the mess.

Well, maybe not.

Cooking Kids or is it Kids' Cooking?

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.


Summer and the living is easy. Cooking switches between the fun and the inventive and the quick and lazy. Now that the kids are older, I can often say "why don't you cook tonight." Luke will whip together something tried and true like eggs and turkey bacon; Maggie gets out the cook book and starts reading. The other night she pulled out Campbell's Summer Recipes, all using Campbell's soup. She made a nice chicken and rice dish which had tomatoes--oh, skip the tomatoes, Maggie hates them; peppers--use the fresh from the garden, nope Mom, I don't want to--golden corn Campbell's soup--oops, don't have that, use cream of chicken...still, it was the classic chicken and rice which is a favorite standby for a quick easy dish. Maverick even ate it when he came home from a long night of dish washing and said it was good.

Maggie has learned my habit of looking at recipes and making them work with A) What we like to eat ; B)What we have on hand and C)What is the cheaper version of the expensive ingredients listed (like who has fresh tarragon hanging around the fridge waiting to be used???)

I love collecting different and unusual cook books and reading through them. My favorites are the church cookbooks. Today I was reading "Tried and True;" a collection of recipes from the Heritage Village, Gerry New York, circa 1983. It contains lots of favorite wisdom's as well as recipes, like the following:

Dear Father, Help me to:
Forgive the wrongs in others,
Forgive the faults I see;
That I may be forgiven,
The faults that are in me;

--From Allie Musgrove's Scrapbook 1898-1983

The woman of Heritage Village collected over 100 pages of great recipes, everything from Sister Parktan's Brown Bread to Watermelon Rind pickles. You can just taste the love and laughter in the recipes and the occasions they made them for. Bucket of Muffins for 25? Church bazaar of course. Creme de Mynthe Cake? St. Patricks day dinner. Potato Chip Cookies? The grand kids are coming. Scalloped mushrooms and baked chicken almond casserole? Company on the way, bake the Dr. Bird Cake for dessert.

Nowadays we tend to drop by the Wegmans superstore and pick up chicken teriaki to bake and salad for the side. We skip the heavy desserts and munch on chocolate fudge Hershey kisses and cherry M&M's (or Lays Potato chips if you are the Queen). Gone are the 6 course meals with delicious desserts. One friend's Mom, Ruth, always had 2 or 3 desserts on hand. I remember when her son Sean came home from boot camp, she had Boston Cream Pie, Brownies, and chocolate chip cookies on hand. I still make her Grasshopper pie and remember all the trouble she went to make enough for her oldest son's wedding shower. Dinner at Ruth and Bernie's was always a treat. I pull in that love and cook on Sunday's, thinking of the way her house always smelled of the love and looked like sunshine, even on the darkest days.

I look to pass the love of food and cooking to my kids, and teach them to make the best of whatever you have on hand. Use the laughter, pull in the smiles, fold in the friendships by talking on the cell while cooking, add in the family by using the old recipes and making them new again, and best of all, to share them with friends and family. Whatever we are eating gets shared with the friends they have in the house....Maggie's BFF always seems to show on Sunday's, what's up with that? Beans and franks Monday's just don't cut it I guess. And Soccer Boy manages to show up for Taco night. It's time I showed him how to cook it I think.

Good food, good friends...now if I could just teach them to clean up when they cook. Hmm, my Mom used to say that to me. Still does.

Some things never change. Ok Mom, I'll clean it up in a minute, honest.

School's Out

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability. ~Sam Keen

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZ7m_IBX-Yo (Alice Cooper School's Out for Summer)

6:30 a.m. Ah the sounds of peaceful children getting ready for school....

Maggie! Luke! Get up! Maggie drink your coffee and wake up already! Luke, no TV! Who's getting in the shower? Take the dog out! Why are you doing homework now? No, I don't know where your tights are. Get in the shower! Maverick wake up! Luke get the dog she's going nuts, the bunny must be out! Why do you need $5? What do you mean you lost your lunch money? Quit buying Red Bull with it! Starve! No, I don't know where a shoe box is! Get in the shower and actually step closer to the soap! Someone get the dog in, the cops are here again! Maggie, brush your hair, don't just put it in the pony tail! Who's burning the waffles? Why do you need me to sign this detention slip? Where is your homework! Luke, turn the hockey down! Maggie, eat some breakfast! Maverick get out of bed or I'm not driving you! Get the dog, she's eating your waffles! No, you can't wear flip flops again. What do you mean you need your yellow shirt clean today? The bus comes in 10 minutes, where is it? Did you look under the bed? Who has all the towels? Maggie go up to your towel farm again and harvest a load! Brush your teeth, gum does not count! Stop dripping syrup by the computer, eat in the kitchen! Maverick get out of bed or I'm coming in there with the soap and water. Get out of my sock drawer, find your own socks!Are you ready, the bus is on Ferndale! What do you mean you need to be driven today, I haven't showered yet! Maverick are you ready? What do you mean you still need to shave? No, I don't know where the shaving cream is, ask you sister! Get the dog in already! Luke did you eat? Who left the empty cereal box on the counter again, it doesn't throw itself out. No, you can't eat candy for breakfast! Maverick get in the car already. Where's you belt, a shoelace does not count! Pull your pants over that underwear or I'll pull them down. Get the dog out of the window before she breaks another one. Luke, get you homework. Maggie, are these your books? Maverick, where's your backpack? Get the dog and lock her up. No, I don't have $10. You need something signed, where's a pen? Who took the pencil sharpener? Brush your teeth, I mean it. Stop hitting your sister and go out for the bus already! Get the dog! Maverick get in the car!

By this time next week, the sounds of silence and the large smiles of Moms everywhere will fill the air. Can you hear me now? No, we can't!! Yeah!!!

Ah, me time, from 630 to 730, gotta love it. It's not the beach we love, it's this. Summer at last, yippee!!

Mom's Day Extended

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.


"Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world." -- Kate Douglas Wiggin

Another beautiful Mother's day come and gone....why is that day the fastest 24 hours in your life? Right up there in terms of speed with your wedding day. You barely get into the day and it's over. All the love, joy, and peace slip right through our hands. I think all the best day's in life are like that; Fluid and fast, joyful and just; happy and hurried. Days we wish we could bottle up and open when we need them.

My mother's day started with Maggie standing next to me, breathing, waiting for me to open my eyes. She insisted last week I take her to buy a GIANT piece of poster board. And new markers. Old ones just wouldn't do. She kept bugging me. Called my on my cell phone twice on the night we were going (using up the minutes, what is she thinking?) I was out with old co-workers boozing it up (okay, it only takes one wine for me to get silly, thank the Queen for buying and getting me there.)

Maggie finally gets me to croak What? through my sleep crusted eyelids and teeth coated with cotton balls. Open your eyes Mom. And I do, and she is holding this giant card she made from the poster board. Inside it says "Best Mom Award" and she drew a trophy. She also sewed me a pillow in pink satin, which says "Mom of the Year, 2008." And she made me a pink bracelet from rubber bands, all the rage in the 6Th grade.

So sweet. The other two did not grace us with their presence until 11. So much for declarations of love and breakfast in bed from those two sleepy heads. DH ran twice to the store to get me my treats and paper, and bought me bike shorts. YES! Bike shorts. I had no idea you could feed a third world country for the price of bike shorts and a heart monitor. Amazing, the cost. But oh, the comfort! My bottom screams every time I go to spinning class, but I am getting addicted. Why else would I torture myself at 5 in the morning? It couldn't be all the pumped guys that work out at that time, could it? Couldn't be riding behind them for 60 minutes and watching their gluts go up and down?

No, I am sure that's not it. After all, I am a Mom.

Oops, gotta go. Time to go to gym and spin. I mean, darn, I have to work out again. What torture. Oh the drudgery. Oh, why would I do this to myself?

It's the tough part of being a Mom. Working out at 5, so you can be home to get the kids up at 6. Oh, how we suffer!

Things My Mother Never Had to Tell Me

Day 13 of Free Agency....

Sitting home, rebalancing my life, certainly has its moments. Suddenly you need to review not only your job goals, but everything in your life. It's like a big microscope has pryed open your eyes. Nothing looks the same. Everything needs to be reordered.

It seems the Piggly Wiggly family has taken up residence and I never really noticed. Who else could be leaving the finger prints everywhere, or leaving the dust bunnies behind the doors and under the beds or leaving dirty laundry trails throughout the house? Certainly, its not my angels.

And just what is that smell upstairs? At first, I figured it must be the dirty laundry. So I got them in the habit of kicking it into the laundry room a little more often. Hmm, still stinks. Next, I thought it must be that they haven't been changing the sheets (I noticed the cleans ones all under the beds.) So, I started making Tuesday sheet day. Nope, that's not it. Still stinks like homeless people moved in.

Today, I figured it out. They keep pulling off the top sheets. They've gotten in the habit of sleeping on just one sheet, since the comforters are just so cozy. Great, it's the blankets. They all have body rot.

So at dinner, I started saying a new rule for less piggishness would be....and then I couldn't stop.I had to start explaining some things they had to know about life. Things they needed to understand so people would get along with them when they are older. They have to know these things, and stop being so piggy... I just had to say the things my mother never seemed to have to tell me:

1. Brush your teeth when you get up. Pee, brush your teeth, and then hug me. No one wants to
smell the jungle breath of the night before.

2. Shower every day and wash the hair. Use lots of soap. Use deodorant. Comb the hair. People don't want to smell you or look at dirty hair.

3. Stop leaving your underwear in the bathroom!

4. Aim when you pee. If you miss, clean it up. We don't like looking at random pee on the floor.

5. Put the seat down and flush when you pee. When in doubt, see rule number 4.

6. Put your dirty laundry in the laundry room. It smells.

7. Sheets need to be changed weekly, or maybe twice weekly in the summer. They smell.

8. You need to use the top sheet and sleep between the sheets. Otherwise, the blankets start to smell like body rot. Body rot makes the room reek. Rooms the permeate odors of 3rd world countries make the whole house seem unclean.

9. Dirty dishes reek. Pick them up, rinse them off, and put them in the dishwasher.

10. Stop eating in bed! Stop eating in my bed! Stop leaving food wrappers everywhere, we fired the maid when we had you!

And the twins looked at me in shock and said....

"Mom, stop breaking rule number 3!"

Oops. I guess I've been getting piggy too. Good to be the child once in awhile.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom act as one with our very soul.



Sometimes, paying attention to the things your kids say can surprise you more then you think. They can cause your hormones to rise to Mt. St. Helen's erupting levels one minute, and fill you with unexpected joy the next. I often wish it wasn't all in the same ten minutes in the morning when you are rushing to start your day, but so be it.



It's in the slowing down and really pulling into their words our hearts, that we grow and are rewarded. It's a little piece of God, reminding us of the everyday joys.



Driving in the Car: Always an experience. This one's too hot, this one's too cold. Usually, it's that we can't the heat going fast enough (we do like in Buffalo). So, yesterday, when we hopped in the car and cranked the heat, I had it at turned to a tropical 85 degrees. At home, I often fight over the temperature with DH, who likes it cold. He can run around in a blizzard in a tee shirt and be happy. So there I was cranking it, and not even noticing that I do this. And twin muffin boy gets in and feels the heat, commenting, "Wow, how nice to have your own space Mom. You can crank it as hot as you want!"



Facing Traffic Jams: It often jams up on Main street by our house. You barely get in the lane, and then you sit. Sometimes its 3 lights, and you think you will get to the other side, and don't. You sit, stuck in first place, being supremely irritated at this. And twin muffin boy comments again "Cool! You are in first place! You'll win the race for sure Mom!"



Watching TV preachers (who me? Where's the beef?). I get up today in time to catch Joel Osteen's Sunday message. I tend to sleep past this point, but I got up and was happy. The twins are cuddled in blankets, zoning out to Sponge Bob. I tell them I am changing the channel and they are happy to join in and listen, to pause and think about the message. Today Joel talks about changing your attitude. Seeing your problems as "light afflictions" instead of the end of the world. I tell the twins to give Thanks and count your blessings. Change your attitude about Joel and give him a chance, its only 30 minutes a week.



I think maybe it's working, when Muffin Boy smiles, looks at the computer and whispers to his sister, "Thank God it's only 15 more minutes."



You just can't help but smiling and laughing everyday.

Survival of the Fittest

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom act as one with our very souls.

As I have discovered by examining my past, I started out as a child. Coincidentally, so did my brother. My mother did not put all her eggs in one basket, so to speak: she gave me a younger brother named Russell, who taught me what was meant by "survival of the fittest." Bill Cosby

Growing up, I was always taller than my brother Joe by several inches. He had 2 years on me, but I had a loud mouth and the determination to not be bullied by him. I gave back what he dished out. Gave it so well, that my mother had a little talk with me when I was in around 3rd grade and Joe was in 5th. "Now, I know he aggravates you. And you can hold him down and punch him. But just because you can, doesn't mean you should. "

I stopped beating him up and we had a truce...for maybe a year. Then the tides changed. Suddenly my little brother grew biceps. Large biceps. My best friend had a balance beam that stood about 5 feet high. Her Dad made it custom for us to do tricks on in the back yard. My brother used to go to beam, which hit him at should level, since he was only about 5' 6" tall. He would put his arms on the beam, and from a standing position, push himself up into a hand stand. It was really cool. He became really strong.

One day, while sitting on the couch in my parent's living room, I discovered just how much those early beating bothered Joe. He came in, picked me up, lifted me over his head, and dropped me on the floor. From then on, he had the couch whenever he wanted it.

Joe never got much taller, but he got a lot of muscles. His friends all towered over him, but he got them back. We had a mini-bike, that he took the motor out of. He designed and welded himself a go cart frame, that was full body, with a cage for protection in case of rollovers. In case of roll overs? Yes, he even padded the whole frame and covered it in leather. It was a sweet machine, and perfect size for him. His friends Mark and Tom had to literally ride with their knees up by their ears to fit in it. It went really fast and they made a whole track in the miles of empty land in our neighborhood. They zoomed around in that go-cart for years. Broken bones became a badge of honor amongst them. Oh, the fun of it.

I remember well the shouting matches and fights over stuff I had with Joe. It makes me smile when I live through the hormones years with my kids. My little twin cupcake is 70 pounds of concentrated anger. She can yell with the best of them. Her 56 inches takes on her older brother's 70 inches with no problem. If Wild Child is really bothering her, she just jumps on his back and attempts to pound. He easily hands her off because he has muscles right now while she looks like a 2nd grader. She gets sent to her room very often now, just to calm her mouth.

One day, Wild Child will get his licks. And I hope he smiles years later when it happens to his kids. I know I do.

Sock It To Me

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom act as one with our very souls.



There’s nothing like warm fuzzy socks on a cool fall morning. Today I have on my soft red fuzzies with my pink polka dot jammies. It’s like being cocooned while you walk around trying to get warm.

Did you ever notice how socks seem to have a life of their own? How else can you explain the fact that you put them in the wash, two by two and they manage to come out 5 by 3. Where do they end up? Are the single ones jumping ship to have a mad affair with a pair of leggings? Do the tube socks come out of the closet to become a pair of knee his? Where do all the lone socks go? Is there a sock commune I don’t know about?

I just did the fall clean-up of my sock drawers. I like to have the white athletic socks separate from the boring business trouser socks. You can’t mix them or anarchy will occur, the oceans will rise and the heavens will part. I ended up with a whole bin of ripped, old unmatched socks, lots of quitters, socks that won’t stay up no matter how much you tried. I have to go attack the kids’ sock drawers. For that, I may need the fortification of an adult beverage.

It’s amazing what you find when you go looking for missing socks in their rooms. Cupcake likes to “clean” her room by shoving all the dirty clothes 1) in her dresser with the clean clothes 2) in her toy boxes in her closet 3) kicking & screaming under her bed during the 5 minute tidy up. It’s amazing how little time it takes to clean when you hide the clothes. The boys just like to leave the clothes in a large heap, covering the rug from one end of the room to other. When they finally clean (think eclipse of the moon timeframe), Babe Ruth likes to say, “Hey Mom, look, someone put a rug in here when we weren’t looking.” Nice.

For years, ever since about age 11, I have had the biggest foot in the house (size 12 women’s). Well, last year Wild Child finally surpassed me and achieved an 11 men’s. I thought this would be so great. I can slip on someone else’s shoes when I run out to get the dog. But it turns out, when a size 11 puts on other people’s socks’, they stretch out and stay a size 11. Who Knew? The good thing, Wild Child has 98 pairs of socks. The bad news, the rest of only have quitters that fall off with the first step.

So it’s time to go sock shopping again. I dread this on two fronts 1) They cost as much as a pound of good steak 2) I never seem to buy the kind anyone likes.
The Queen mentions the problem of buying the RICHT socks just the other day. Her DH wanted socks, and she had a $10 JCP coupon. He wanted crew socks, all cotton, this style only. She uses the coupon and buys $30 worth of crews. Takes them home, and they are the wrong socks. He pulls out what he wants again and she takes one to head back to the store. Returns the original socks, but they won’t give her the $10 credit or the coupon to use again. Screwed out of $10, she spends $40 worth now getting lots of socks and takes them home, making sure to get the all cotton like he wanted. DH opens the socks, puts one on, and gets frustrated. Still the wrong sock. She gets mad, and tells him to go to the store and get what he wants. He does, coming home with an acrylic cotton blend!!! “Well, of course they are,” he says “they have to stretch to stay up.”

“Can you believe it,” the queen says, “he needed a blend and didn’t even tell me. But that’s not the weirdest thing about socks and my hubby,” she tells me. What now? He sometimes gets wild and goes sockless to work? He walks around with mis-matched socks on weekends? What on earth could it be?

“When you wash his socks, they always come out together. Always. He is never missing one. I’ve never seen anything like it, must be the accountant in him or something. It’s like the socks wouldn’t dare leave him unbalanced.”

Expect Amazing Things

Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom act as one with our very souls.



“What’s your dream?”
---homeless man pushing shopping cart on Hollywood Boulevard in movie ‘Pretty Woman’

From the time they are conceived, we are filled with dreams, hopes and desires for our children. We picture the nursery and then the toddler room, all perfect in matching Sesame Street characters (only to find the brand new Wall border ripped off the entire wall, 10 minutes after you put it on.) We see ourselves teaching them to walk and ride their bike and throw out the first pitch. We see them graduating and having a wonderful life, thanking their parents in every speech they ever make.

One of my favorite jokes on the internet surfaced again the other day. 3 woman are at a crowded bar after work. The door opens and in walks the most gorgeous male you have even seen, thick full hair, strong muscular physique, GQ attire, sexy smile and a charismatic charm oozing out of him (ok, so the joke didn’t get that detailed, but we can believe it, right?) He locks eyes with the one woman across the crowded room and walks directly toward her. She is filled with delight and anticipation. He whispers in her ear, “I’ll do ANYTHING you want for $20, but you must tell me in 3 words only.” She reaches in her purse, grabs her keys….

We immediately fill our brains with scenarios as to the next line. Is she flirtatious? “Dance with Me.” Is she sensual? “Kisses lasting hours.” Is she naughty? “Tie me up.” Oh, we delight in the dream, like picturing our winning Mega millions tickets. She opens her purse, grabs her keys and address, hands him a $20 dollar bill and says…..

“Clean my house.”

Oh, the laughter!! I love it. But then I get thinking, what great dreams can we sum up in only 3 words for ourselves and our kids? What sage advice to live by?

Go graduate college. Pursue your passions. Never stop learning. Reach for the stars. Call your mother. Wear clean underwear (do we need to explain this again?). Keep finances organized. Love yourself first. Follow God’s laws. Laugh everyday. Clean your room (ok, going overboard again.)

Here’s my favorite of the month—

“Expect Amazing Things”
---Me.