Merry Christmas Eve!

http://www.craftymamablog.com/2010/12/baby-jesus-in-manger.html

Today is a beautiful day. It’s the celebration of the night before a miracle baby was born. A baby who represents all things love and all things hope.

I wanted to take a moment today to remember the spirit of Christmas. How it’s not about getting gifts, but giving gifts. Gifts of the best kind. The gift of love for each other. Remembering the people that matter most to us. The gift of hope. Believing there will always be a new day and a new beginning because that baby was born.

As a parent, there’s nothing better than being fortunate to give gifts from my heart because I love my babies and I want them to feel love and dream about endless possibilities in their new gifts. And seeing my kids smiling cheeks, hearing their laughter shaking their chests, and of course, the awesome huge hugs, makes me feel quite good inside.

But I also want to teach my kids about the spirit of that baby. How Christmas is about Him and the promise of that baby growing up into a bigger more giant meaning for all of us.

Merry Christmas everyone. I wish you an awesome day of love and peace and of course, hope.

There’s a stranger at my door

www.conveyancing-cms.co.uk

I wasn’t scared then, but then I thought, should I be?

I had just finished fixing dinner. Some sort of mini turkey moatloaves I make for the kids because they’re smaller and cute and I’ll try just about anything to get them to eat something healthy. My husband wasn’t home yet. I don’t know what it is about Thursday nights, but drivers seem to be less careful and more likely to crash into each other, backing up traffic.

I put the plates of food down for the kids and sat in my chair. Suddenly my BIG boxer jumped up from his spot at the top of the stairs. He rushed down the steps barking his voice of threat, shaking the house.

I called him back. He wouldn’t stop. I turned all the way around and my heart jumped. I expected to see the rear of a car, backing out of one of our neighbors’ houses, a common trigger for his alarm.

Instead, I met a shadow at the door—a giant dog stared back at me with his nose against the glass—a German Shepherd. I got up from the table. It’s not entirely unusual to have a dog at my front door. Our neighborhood is full of them and sometimes they run loose.

I started to walk down the steps to get a better look, but it was dark and I couldn’t see all that well. I kept staring at the glass and I jumped when I caught the outline of a tall man standing behind the dog. Maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but he was almost as tall as the door.

I pushed my dog aside and I cracked the door open with my leg in the space. I looked the stranger in the eyes and he had the lightest eyes I’d ever seen.

“Hey, what can I help you with?” I said.

The stranger smiled.

He said something like, “I found this dog up the street and wanted to see if he belonged to anyone in the neighborhood.“

I studied the German Shepherd again. His gray hair. The bald spot on his back. Strangely, he wasn’t scared. He was wagging his tail, and I didn’t know what to think right then.

I said, “I’ve never seen him around here. He’s probably been wandering for awhile.”

And that was that. The guy said thanks. I said thanks and I closed the door.

Two seconds later, my phone rang. Our neighbors warned me about the strange man going door to door. I told them I thought he was harmless. Just a guy hoping to find a home for a stray.

They sighed with relief and asked if they could come over.

Then I started to wonder, if they were scared, should I be?

Maybe I did the wrong thing. Maybe I did the right thing.

I guess I have to do the right thing for me, and in moments like this, I have to go back to my philosophy of believing the best in people. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like if I lived each day thinking everyone has a clear dirty motive. Yes, there’s bad out there, but there’s also a lot of good. Maybe the stranger at my door was honestly trying to find a home for a dog. He didn’t want to see the dog roaming the streets alone.

I’ll believe in the best. I can only believe in what I know and what I see, and anything else would be just a guess.

And most certainly, I wouldn’t want anyone to think the worst of me.

I Hope One Day They’ll Find a Miracle

As a mother, a friend, a mentor, a sibling, a family member, a coworker and a living breathing human being, my heart goes out to the children, the families and the larger community in Newtown, Connecticut.

I feel so heavy inside. I can’t imagine the pain and the devastation for all who knew someone involved with the violence.

And all I can do is hope for a miracle that somehow, someday, even if it’s just a little, they’ll heal.

Please God, I’m hoping you’ll show them all a miracle.

Drowning in your dishwasher? Don’t forget your phone.

http://dwellinggawker.com/post/2011/09/30/4465/

Recently, my dishwasher has been terribly under the weather. Top rack problems. Water sprayer problems. And the best part is? I’ve developed a new nickname—
Just call me Mrs. Plumber.
For over a week, bound and determined, I leaned over my laptop Googling just about any fix-it article related to dishwashers. Questions. Articles. Step-by-Step Resources. And because of my learning style, I finally settled in on Podcasts. Isn’t YouTube great?
There’s a line though. You have to stop reading and start acting—a hard lesson for me since I LOVE reading. So one night, I put my foot down. I stopped researching and decided, why the heck not. With my laptop on the floor, the tools required according to the podcast I’d watched more than a couple of times, I used that screwdriver and my own bare hands.
I took off the top tray. I shifted the arm of the dishwasher loose, the arm stretching up the entire back wall.   I quickly maxed out my shoulder skills and thank goodness, my problem-solving husband stepped in. Together we wrestled the dishwasher into pieces, baptized our hands in the soap scum grime and yes, if you haven’t ever cleaned your dishwasher all the way to the motor, there are guts—messy dirty guts inside. ;0) I’m sure your excited I didn’t take any pictures of that because it wasn’t very pretty.
You want to know what the weird part is?
I had fun. I felt really really accomplished, and I never would have come close to tempting such a task if I didn’t live right here and right now. Life is at the touch of our fingers, literally speaking for once. You can find anything you want with a small and very necessary second brain, the cell phone. Do you know anyone who hasn’t ever had one? I don’t think I can come up with a single name. But since I still have to get on board with upgrading my phone plan to one with internet plan and buy myself a smartphone, I can’t really say I’m totally up to speed. I know. Welcome to the new decade Erika.
So how do dishwashers and phones relate to our dreams?  Phones and internet can deliver worlds to us by the touch of a finger. I can see all the way to Japan if I want. I can understand a different culture; learn a foreign language. So if you really want to dream, then start. Begin to research. Develop a plan. And don’t forget to act. You may surprise yourself. There’s one I’ve left out. Patience. It’s the glue that will hold your entire dream together.