Girl With The Glasses

I have been holding off doing this post in hopes that I would be able to snap a picture of Alecia wearing her brand new glasses. It's not going to happen. Apparently, she has quite the aversion to people seeing her wearing them. (Sniff, sniff.)


We had so much fun at the eye doctor, though! Of course, that was before the reality of this being a lifelong affliction hit her. This is the progression of choosing the perfect frames....

Not the perfect ones...

Similar frames, but so much better!


These frames come with attitude!

Not such a fan of these...



For those who will never actually see her wearing them, these are the frames she chose:


Isn't she a cutie? Gosh, I love this girl.

The only approved late night flashlight use

I walked into Cory's and Alecia's room late one night and saw this:


A brother reading a book by flashlight to his sister. It's the kind of thing that makes me sing a happy little song inside.

News Alert: Back Seat Driver Becomes Side Seat Driver

Kyle has always been a back seat driver, I swear since he was born. When he was five, he asked me why do I sometimes turn left as soon as the light turns green, and sometimes I pull out into the middle and wait for other cars to pass. I explained turn lights. He said, "Thanks for explaining. I've got a lot of driving rules to learn!" He's been asking driving whys since then.

And he has learned.

And he uses that knowledge of driving rules against me to help me, constantly.

Recently, he realized that as a 12 year old, he can now sit in the front seat. This has served to increase his helpfulness. A few days ago, when trying to get around road construction, we turned into a parking lot with a few other people. In the direction I was going, logic dictated that I had the right of way. I still slowed down to make sure that the person coming from my right assumed the same. The cute older lady nodded agreement, so I continued forward.

Kyle freaked out.

"Mom! You broke a traffic law! Didn't you know that you are supposed to yield to the elderly?"


No, I can't say I remember my driver's ed teacher telling us that.

Can I bottle this and save it for when she's a teenager?

I love how little kids can look at themselves in a mirror and enjoy appreciating how pretty they are. I wish they'd never lose it.


A few days ago, Alecia showed me an "owie," wondering if it was infected. I assured her that it wasn't, but that it was really dry and could use a band-aid with neosporin on it, so it wouldn't scar. I knew full well she wouldn't agree, based on her hate of band-aids, but, as usual, I figured I'd try. Her response?

"Mom. I just need a body. I don't need a pretty one or a perfect one, I just need a body."

Can you imagine what a different place this world would be if we all thought like that? It makes me want to bottle the sentiment, and give it back to her in its undiluted form when she's in junior high.

Back in Kansas

My week off to see the wizards was very much worth the time and money. But I am SO glad to be back in Kansas! Here are some of the highlights from the week, in no particular order:

See this man?


His name is Tracy Hickman. He is a prolific author that has written nearly 50 books in the past 25 years, and is a pretty darn amazing public speaker. I always learn so much from him, at the same time as being quite entertained. More importantly than that, though, he is an all-around nice person.

See this man? He is Dr. Horrible of the infamous Sing-Along Blog.


What do these two men have in common?

The Freeze Ray song!

Tracy Hickman serenaded ME with this lovely little ditty. Well, okay, he serenaded more than a hundred people in an auditorium with a microphone. But all because I shamelessly begged politely asked him to. He is quite the amazing singer, too! Afterwards, Tracy Hickman said to me, "See? I told you I would sing," and then gave me a hug. Awww. It was a moment I will forever treasure up in my heart. Seriously.

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As an update to my previous post, I can now officially turn in my first three chapters to two editors, and my entire manuscript to a third! [Insert choir of angels singing here.] AND, contrary to my pre-conference info, it didn't rely on my sorry ability to pitch the book. [Insert every choir of angels from every age of time singing here.]

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See this lady?


She is the lovely, extremely knowledgeable, sweet, likeable, hilariously funny, very talented Claudia Mills. (Claudia, if you are reading this, I do realize that I just way overused adjectives and adverbs. But sometimes, the person you are describing is so amazingly awesome that you just gotta break the rules.) She has written 42 books-- picture books, chapter books, and middle grade books. Look her up. She's really good.

She was my author/mentor for the conference. That means that I got to spend the first four hours of all five days with her, in a critique group setting. I learned tons from her. The best part for me, was... well, what she did for me, of course! I knew I had a very specific problem with my first chapter. My writing group had a problem with it, too-- I just didn't know how to fix it. Neither did they. I took it to my conference critique group, and they had a problem with it, too. Claudia suggested how to fix it, and it made perfect sense! I haven't finished the rewrite yet, but what I have done, I am loving. I tell you, the lady is a GENIUS!! I really owe her a lot. Thanks, Claudia Mills! (And, Claudia, if you are reading this, I would be very honored if you left a "Claudia was here" comment.)

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See this lady?

She is Janette Rallison, the author of a whole stack of chick-lit young adult books. She's also a very enjoyable person to be around. I got to go to lunch at the creamery with her and a couple other people, and watch the top secret, unbeknownst to them, setup between Janette's very beautiful and smart 21 year old single daughter and Erin's every-mother's-dream-for-a-son-in-law, 21 year old, single cousin. What a fun group of people to hang out with!

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See this lady?


She is my friend Erin Summerill, and I got to see her at the top of her game all week. If you know Erin, you know what a memorable person she is. If you don't know Erin, hang out on her blog for a bit. (HERE) These are a few of my favorite moments:

There were a few editors present. There were a lot of writers present who want to be published. Some try to get the editor's attention so they can pitch their book. Erin didn't. (She did pitch someone else's book, though. But that's an entirely different story.) The funny part came when she had a conversation with a San Diego born, New York living editor about the beauty of Deseret Industries and how to find the best bargain. The funniest part? The editor sought Erin out specifically for this conversation. Apparently Erin radiates a "bargain hunter" aura.

There was a New York agent there from the second oldest agency in America, the third oldest in the world. He's the kind of guy who wears a handkerchief in the breast pocket of his suit. This agent's first name is Edward. I had to chuckle when Erin asked Edward if people tend to say his name more dreamily since Twilight came out. I think he chuckled a little on the inside, too.

I got to see some moments that anyone (other than Erin) would find incredibly embarrassing. For the sake of my blog rating, I won't repeat any of them here. But Erin: When you hear lots of whispered conversations around you mention the word "Uninhibited," you should know that its definition is "free from traditional social constraints."

At the banquet on Thursday night, I got to watch the shock on the faces of my fellow table-sharing attendees as they saw Erin:

• A. Grab one type of roll out of the basket in the center of the table, take a bite, pull a face, put the roll back in the basket, and then grab a different type.
• B. Pick up a pat of butter, comment on how cold (and thus unspreadable) it was, and then put in her armpit. She instructed us that an armpit is a hot place, and as such, is a great butter warmer.

My favorite, though, was the drawing at the "Closing Extravaganza." Each day throughout the week, the commentators would draw two names out of a bowl to win a book by one of the presenting authors. Each day, Erin would lament (not quietly) the fact that she didn't win. At the closing extravaganza, they drew probably 50 names from the bowl. When someone's name was called, they would stand up, a few people would clap, and they would remain standing as one of the three people holding stacks of books would come to them and hand them the book that was on the top of the stack. Another name would be called three or four seconds later. About ten names into the drawing, they drew Erin's name, much to the happiness of all. She stood, screamed, cheered, and threw both arms into the air. Then she turned around to the rest of the crowd (we were on the second row of the auditorium) and screamed, cheered, and threw her arms into the air. She then ran to the front like she'd just been chosen as a contestant on The Price is Right. She looked through titles of the books the first person held. They weren't quite right, so she went to the stack the second person held. Then to the third. The person doing the drawing stared at Erin with an awed fascination that kept her from moving-- even to blink an eye. She eventually had to be prompted by the person in charge to continue drawing names. And she really tried to, too. But Erin was just too mesmerizing. Finally, the person in charge (an extremely funny lady) asked Janette Rallison to "get her student under control so they could continue." Hehehe. Good times, good times.

But seriously. It was fun to go with Erin.

And I'm really glad I went. I learned so much. And, I'm extra glad that my wonderful family not only kept it all together while I was gone, but kept the house clean, too! I really missed them while I was gone, and I'm so glad to be back, feeling like I'm living life WITH them.

I'm Off to See the Wizards

For the next five days, I get to go to one of the rockinest writing conferences in the country, Writers for Young Readers, a conference filled with authors, editors, and agents that are wizards in their field. How cool is it to live in a area where the writers per capita ratio is so high that this amazing conference is a mere 20 minutes from my home? (Course, I wouldn't mind going to one of the other top writing conferences in the country-- Maui Writers Conference.)

I am so EXCITED / NERVOUS, I can hardly stand it! I mean, there will be editors there from Random House, Bloomsbury, and Harper Collins, and I will get a chance to pitch my book to them! If you couldn't really care less who publishers are, I'd like to take a moment to say, THEY'RE HUGE! Hence the nervous part. Although, I'm pretty darn excited about the rocking authors that are coming.


To prepare, I've made a list, and checked it at least twice.

• Decided which workshop classes to go to...... Check.
• Packed lots of munchies...... Check.
• Wrote out a detailed list of what needs to happen with my kids while I'm gone..... Check.
• Finished my book...... Okay, so not check. (I really tried, though. And I'm close. But I promised Heavenly Father that I would do everything I could to never let my writing compulsion negatively impact my family. Finishing would have negatively impacted my family. I figure HF will look out for me from here.)
• Edited my first three chapters, just in case someone asks me to submit it (and cross fingers that they will)..... Check.
• Stood in the line in heaven where apparently they handed out kids and a spouse that are supportive way beyond what I could ever dream they'd be..... Check.

So, why do I feel so UN-ready?

The Kingdom Where The Weather is Merry

Note: This story is in response to Tammy Merryweather's recent blog post. If you haven't yet, read it here first.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful kingdom nestled in a lovely valley filled with groves of trees. The King and Queen’s palace lay in this valley at the base of a snow capped mountain where the weather was always merry, as were all the inhabitants of the kingdom.

One day, the Queen made an royal announcement that was shouted from the rooftops by her loyal messengers so that everyone in the kingdom would hear. Soon after the leaves in the kingdom’s trees changed their colors and spread themselves like a blanket over the land, a royal child would be born. The entire kingdom was thrilled.

The Queen was sitting on her throne, the summer sun bursting through one of the palace windows, casting a warm glow on her skin. She was caressing her enlarging belly when the royal wizard paid her a visit. He was one of her most loyal and trusted advisors. She shared with him her desire for this child to grow up healthy, happy, active, and full of peace. She imagined him growing up, running in the fields by the castle, playing on the royal grounds, wrestling with the castle cats, and playing with the other royal children. Confiding in the wizard, she told of her wish that there was something that she could do to help make sure this happens.

The wizard laid his hand on the Queen’s belly for a small moment. “I could place a spell on this child that would help do everything you desire.”

With gratitude swelling in her heart, the Queen thanked the wizard. She wanted so much for her unborn child, and was very pleased that she would be able to provide him with more.

“What will you need for this spell?”

The wizard bowed. “My lady. This spell will be costly, and I am getting old. I know my strength is such that I can bear the weight of the spell while the child is very small, but there will come a time when my strength won’t be sufficient.”

The queen gasped. “What will happen then? Will the spell be lost?”

“There is another way,” the wizard said quietly. “But it will require much time, patience, and hard work from you.”

“Anything,” the Queen said resolutely. “I’ll do anything.”

“When my strength is inadequate, I can channel the energy that the spell requires to another object. It cannot be just any object, though. It will need to be something that has had countless amounts energy poured into it. It will need to be something that represents many hours of hard work, contributed lovingly and without reservation.”

It only took a moment of thought before the Queen knew just what to do. She began to search far and wide for cloth shops throughout many kingdoms, looking for fabrics that were the essence of happiness, activeness, health, and peacefulness. When she was satisfied that she had found a collection of truly unique, beautiful, well woven fabrics, she went to work. She chose the most difficult design for the fabrics that could be imagined, with cuts at impossible angles, that would produce a work of wonder for all to behold.

She pieced together each small piece, with love in her heart and patience in her hands. After more than two years, the masterpiece was finished, and she knew that the quilt would be sufficient to power the spell.

She gave the quilt to the royal prince to cuddle, love, and enjoy. She loved watching him carry around the quilt with him everywhere he went— and she was constantly amazed at how healthy, happy, active, and peaceful the child was.

After a time, the royal wizard came to the queen, hunched over and walking with the aid of a walking stick. Although it didn’t make much difference in his height, he still bowed before her. “My lady. My strength is waning. I can no longer power the spell. I need to transfer the spell to the quilt.”

The Queen stepped down from her throne and kissed the old man on his forehead. “Thank you for all you have done. Be at peace.”

As she walked along the palace corridors to the prince’s room, she thought about all she had contributed to the quilt. She hoped there was enough power in it to fuel the spell for the rest of the prince’s life. The prince loved the quilt, and the Queen worried that there would be nothing of it left for him to hold after the spell took what it needed. She would soon see.

She stepped into the prince’s room, and saw him cuddled in the quilt. She was confused. How did the quilt still exist? Had the wizard not taken it’s power, yet?

The prince stood up and ran to hug her, dragging the quilt behind him. That’s when she noticed. The color was missing from a part of the quilt, and the prince was still just as happy, healthy, active, and peaceful as ever. She looked at the quilt and then back at her son, and knew that the part with the missing color would forever remind her that she gave her son everything he needed, and there was yet an abundance so large, that he could still cuddle in his favorite blanket.