moms rock giveaway week #2: my life as a doormat by rene gutteridge

I love Rene Gutteridge. Not in a weird stalker way but as a friend.
I met her 10 years ago at my first writer's conference.
Her first novel, Ghostwriter, was just coming out.
Rene is one of those friends that you want around.
She always laughs at my jokes and we both enjoy good food and Dr. Pepper.
She heard all of my rejection letters over the phone.
She even witnessed some rejections first hand with me at writer's conferences.
That would be off putting to some - all that humiliation up close and personal.
But Rene believed in me.
And kept believing in me even when it took me 8 years to get published.
So all that to say this weeks giveaway is her book My Life as a Doormat.

It's my favorite book of hers. Maybe it's because of the dedication page.
To anyone who has ever felt stepped on.
For those of you who have ever struggled with people pleasing this book is for you.
For those of you who like to laugh this book is for you.
For those of you who like a good romantic comedy this book is for you...
or for your best friend who also likes romantic comedies.
Put your favorite book in the comments for a chance to win.
The comments will close Tuesday, April 7 at 9:00. Winner announced Wednesday, April 8.
And last weeks giveaway winner is.....

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3 Timestamp: 2009-04-01 05:22:43 UTC

Commenter #3! Beth K is the winner of the Mother's Heart Charm!
Congratulations,Beth! Both on winning and on your new little one!
E-mail me @ tiredsupergirl.com and I will send Erica @ Bonbon Charms
your e-mail! So fun!

we are highly uncultured

My niece, Alyson, came down to Modesto from Oregon with her friend, Danielle,
for spring break.
They came over to the bay area for an afternoon and
we tried to pack as much fun and sweets into one afternoon that we could.
This started with a trip to Sprinkle's cupcakes and ended with a trip to Thrifty's ice cream. Because we are pre-diabetic like that.
But sandwiched in between our tasty treats we decided to visit Stanford.
The girls had never been on campus before and the weather was perfect for walking around.
We tried to go into the chapel but it was closed and then Scott said,
"Let's go to the art museum!"
And I said, "Art museum?"
Because clearly I am fully aware of all that Stanford has to offer.
Apparently, there is an art museum with a sculpture garden of Rodin's work.
The centerpiece is a replica of The Gates of Hell door he crafted.
His inspiration was his love of Dante's Divine Comedy.
You learn something new every day. I love Rodin's work so I was excited.
I went to the Rodin museum with my sister, Jenny, and our friend, Kristin, in Paris.
His art is so life like and compelling you can't stop looking at it.
My children felt the same way as they purused the countless statues in the sculpture garden.
I know this because they couldn't stop spanking the sculptures.
So I had to say, "Stop spanking the sculptures."
Those are some words I never thought I would hear myself say.
Never before had they seen so many bare bottoms.
They were also interested in all of the other private parts of the statues.
Will brought me to one in particular, the bust of a woman called "Prayer".
He pointed to her chest and said, "Mom, look what I see."
And I tried to remain very non-chalant and say, "Yes, I see it, too."
He had a very wide grin on his face and I am quite sure he was not feeling called to prayer at the moment.
Seeing so much nakedness brought out a high level of glee in my children.
Clearly, my children have no culture. But then neither do I.
When Jenny, Kristin and I were at the museum in Paris
there was one grouping of 3 larger than life statues with very prominent rears.
We sat underneath these large rears and had a friendly passerby take our picture.
We were very pleased with ourselves. How can I expect more from my boys?
As we were leaving, Jack asked Scott,
"Dad, why did that man make all of those inappropriate statues?"
To which Scott answered something to the effect,
"They're art. They weren't inappropriate when he made them."
Puzzled, Jack asked, "Why? Were all the people naked back then?"
Something to ponder.
For now, I think we'll be sticking to the Children's Discovery Museum.
That's about all the culture we can handle.

because-mom's-rock bloggy button for your blog

As far as I'm concerned more people need free things. Because I love free.
Free kisses. Free hugs. Free books. Free charms. Free art. Free bags.
Free lovely paper goods. Free chocolate. Definitely more free chocolate.
Now the kisses and hugs you are going to have to secure on your own.
The rest of the free stuff?
That's what this because-moms-rock spring giveaway is all about.
Celebrating spring, moms and free stuff.
Just put the giveaway button on your blog or send an e-mail to your friends and relatives letting them know about the giveaway if you don't have a blog.
<a href="http://tiredsupergirl.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Cute Blogspot Designs" src="http://i584.photobucket.com/albums/ss287/tiredsupergirl/momsrock.png" /></a>
Then come back here and leave your name in the comments for a chance at a sampling of oh so delici-oh-so See's candy.

That's right. Free chocolate. All for you. You don't even have to share.
And it's See's. If you have never experienced See's that is reason enough to put the button on your blog.
Spread the joy of free things all around.
Especially the joy of free chocolate.
SIGN UP FOR THE BON BON CHARMS GIVEAWAY HERE.

because-moms-rock giveaway: a mother's heart (comments closed)

Each Wednesday for the next 6 weeks we are going to have giveaways in honor of moms.
6 fantastic moms have offered up their lovely wares to celebrate the fact that moms rock.
This week one tsg will get the chance to wear something sweet.
The Mother's Heart charm from Bonbon Charms.

Last week I was rearranging pavers in our backyard trying to form a little patio
by our storage shed. I had my shovel. My dirt. My brick borders. My pavers.
I was sweating. Those of us unused to hard labor tend to sweat.
Scott came out to chat and caught sight of me and said,
"What's up, Mom Foth jr.?"
He call's my mom Mom Foth. I love that he compared me to my mom.
Not that I am that much like my mom in ways of gardening...I tend to kill instead of nurture.
But my mom is a gardener extraordinaire. She brings things to life.
Roses. Lilacs. Pansies. Tulips. She's a nurturer of plants and of people.
One of my favorite memories of my mom when I was little was when we would walk home from school in the winter for lunch.
She would have lunch for us along with blankets to warm up in and hot chocolate.
It was her care for us, small daily expressions of love, that made the ordinary special.
Those things shaped me and my sisters and brother into who we are.
We knew we WERE her heart....and still are, come to think of it.
Put your favorite mom memory in the comments for a chance to win the mother's heart for your mom, your sister, your best girlfriend or you know, for you.
I wear mine with my boys names encircling the heart every day.
Erica, from Bonbon Charms, has also offered a 20% discount using the discount code, TSG, for those of you who would like to place an order for mother's day. The discount is available until next Wednesday.
Comments close Tuesday, March 31 @ 9 pm. Winner announced April 1st.

getting big

I think one of the craziest things about being a mom is the dailiness of it.
One day rolls into the next with all the laundry, dishes and toy picking up.
So sometimes we are caught off guard when dailiness turns into yearly-ness.
Wasn't it just yesterday that Jack was starting pre-school?
How is he going to be 8?
Wasn't Will just toddling around the side of the house to eat green tomatoes of off the vine?
How did he just lose his first tooth?
Isn't Addie my baby?
How can he do puzzles and count to 20 (10...11....12...14...17...20) and open doors
without assistance?
Both Addison and Jack have birthdays this week.
And somehow the dailiness of mothering, the ins and outs of diapering and washing clothes and rocking babies has segued into correcting math problems and learning to sound out blends like st- and tr- and riding bikes with no training wheels.
Somehow my babies have turned into boys.
And you think I would rejoice about this because for 8 years I have thought,
"Oh my Lord, I can't wait til they are out of diapers."
And yet on the cusp of this new season of boy-dom I find myself thinking,
"What will I do without a little one?"
Because I am psycho like that. It's this thing that sits in my gut and says,
They are changing. Every day these boys are becoming more of who they are.
And this time of babies and craziness and sweetness is ending.
Of course, this all points to the piercing truth that they are becoming independent.
Which is all at once fantastic and terrible.
Just writing this makes me want to take to my bed.
No one takes to their bed these days because we are too busy but I think we should bring it back like the 90's brought back bell bottoms.
Because I need some time to process all this change
and tucked under a quilt would be a nice place to do it.
I need some time to grieve the family that I am losing.
The family that had baby teeth and stayed home with me and needed cuddles every day.
And then I need some time to figure out how to fully enjoy this new family
we are becoming.
The family that does not require a diaper bag or rigid napping schedules or sippy cups.
I love Sara Groves' song, Small Piece of You,
on her Station Wagon: Songs for New Parents album.
She sings to her infant son saying,
I just want a small piece of you, something to put in my pocket.
and then goes on to say
I hope that you go see the world. I hope that you take flight.
But please, please, please, don't forget to write.
Don't forget to write your mother, don't forget to write.
Because it echoes the juxtaposition that I feel in my soul.
Yes, by all means, get big....but don't ever leave me.
Okay, leave me because that's healthy and even though I am clearly not healthy
since I am so conflicted, I would like you to be healthy....
but don't forget how much I love you and that I poured out my life for you on a daily basis for years and years...and years.
No pressure, boys.
As you can see, clearly I am wreck and not just because I have to make cupcakes 4 times this week (2 school parties, 2 family parties).
(Just think how wacked out I'll be when they ACTUALLY leave home...
sweet mercy...let's not think of it.)
So bear with me in my fragile emotional state.
My boys are getting big.

the good work

I have vague teenage memories of spending the night at my cousin Beth's house
and waking up on Sunday morning to the musical stylings of Steve Green.
Or Larnelle Harris or Sandy Patti and her big 80's hair.
I think her hair joined her in a few of her numbers.
Somehow I remember these words being incorporated into my dreams.
He who began a good work in you
He who began a good work in you
Will be faithful to complete it
Will be faithful to complete it
He who started the work will be faithful to complete it in you.
The words of Paul in song form. Thank you, Steve Green, for your catchy
tune that is still stuck in my head 20 years later.
And at 15 or 16, it didn't really impact me because I was 15 or 16 and pretty
much had the world under control and didn't need any work done on me.
But today I am thinking that there is still a whole lot of work forthcoming.
I have known Jesus since I was around 6.
And the more time I spend knowing him I realize two things. I need him.
And I'm still not that much like him.
Oh and a third thing....I don't have the ability to make myself like him.
I spend a lot of fruitless moments trying to complete his good work in myself.
Trying to discipline myself and heal myself and shape myself.
And honestly, I have fantastic intentions.
But every so often I realize what I am trying to do.
I realize that I think if I work at it hard enough I can change myself.
And then I also think maybe this work in me will never be done.
Yesterday, Addison pulled a stool up to the counter and was watching the eggo waffles pop up. And when one toasty waffle shot into the air, he turned to me in great surprise and said, "How is that fossible?"
I made him repeat it 50 times. I like how he says "fossible".
But that is the same feeling of amazement I feel when something finally shifts in my life, when God begins to shape me or move me or change me because I realize that surely, I can't do it on my own.
How is it possible? I don't know how it's possible. I don't understand the mechanics of giving over all your junk to God and him working it out for his purposes.
But I am going with it.
Because I know that if I keep letting him have at me, he will do the work.
And that's good stuff.

awkward worship....again

While leading worship at church yesterday, I made a sound like this,
"KAACK!"
This was right after I directed everyone that the next line we were
going to sing as we headed into the bridge was,
"I'll never know how much it cost to see my sin up on that cross."
They started singing, "I'll never know..."
And somehow I inhaled some air and sucked spit down my windpipe and all
that came out of my mouth was "KAACK!"
And then cough! Cough! COUGH!
My sister, Jenny, who was singing harmony was shocked into silence for a moment.
Then I felt her hand on my back....a steadying force as I fought for air.
And then as she frantically picked up the melody line I soldiered on with
trying to breathe and sang the rest of the song in a sort of whispery Jewel-like voice since I probably ruptured a few vocal chords with that sound.
You know, it always sounds funny when I write about it but somehow it never feels
funny at the moment.
Especially since that hairball moment came directly on the heels of a song glitch when the guitarist started playing one song while I started singing another.
It was further complicated by the fact that I don't actually know how high
certain keys are so when I picked out my songs for Sunday they were all in
the key of "Not humanly possible...only dogs enjoy songs this high."
I know my heart was in the right place in my efforts but I'm not entirely
sure that God was blessed by my worship leading....
but I think maybe he got in a good chuckle yesterday.
And maybe that is enough.

i can't stay up late anymore

In college I used to stay up until 3 in the morning. Regularly.
Than I would get up for my 7:30 class in my sweats, get ready after
breakfast and be ready for a day of fun and work and homework and then repeat.
Now if I stay up past 10 at night, the next morning I look and feel like I was run over by a small herd of wildebeests.
I believe this is because I have not slept completely through the night in
around 8 years. Whereas I used to frolic into the wee midnight hours,
endless hours of diaper changing and nursing have killed the night owl joy for me.
Yesterday, two of my friends looked at me as I picked my kids up from school
and said, "Wow! You look tired!" And I said,
"Yes, I am tired." Not from yesterday or the day before.
I am tired from last week!
A whole week ago when Barbie and Leslie and I went to San Antonio and
pretended we were still 20, we stayed up til 1 and 3 and got up at 4:15 to
catch our plane and my body said, "No, thank you!"
It is taking me a week to recover from Leslie's imitation of Frida Kahlo....
(The similarity between the two is uncanny, isnt' it?)

And Barbie's and mine stunning interpretation of prairie maidens....
(those were strong feminine shoulders that Texas was built upon)

and then of course there were the late nights on the river walk spent sipping coffee and talking about life.

I immediately caught a cold on arriving home.
It seems that staying up late also takes out my immune system. Apparently, I am 90.
And I've been falling asleep on the couch as the children do their homework in the
afternoon, only to be woken by Addison sitting on my chest peering into my face,
disturbed that Mommy cannot remain conscious if she sits down.
And the craziest thing of all?
All I can think as I rip myself out of bed each morning is and run bleary eyed for the coffee is....
How long before we can do it again?

all right, mr. de mille, i'm ready for my closeup

For those of you wondering about the magic on tv....
the magic as to how those lovely ladies look the way they look?
I learned the secret while being prepped for a tv interview last week.
It has to do with hair and make up people.
I told Scott when I came back home that I would require some hair and make up
people to get me through my day to day life from now on.
I need to be kept in the manner which I am now accustomed to.
He said, Sure thing! He would have the boys prepped and ready to go.
But the real magic takes place right around the eyes.
It's eye lash magic.
Fake. Eye. Lashes.
I think I'm sold on them.
Tomorrow before doing my laundry and vaccuuming and putting out the ant bait
traps, I'm going to put on fake eye lashes.
Because they make everything seem better.

(is it me or does my nose look ginormous in the this picture? but it's okay because
my eyelashes look fantastic! So luscious!)
Make sure to get yourself some before you do the breakfast dishes.

we ate our way through San Antonio

Firstly, thank you, tsgs, for your timely prayers on behalf of
my first ever tv interview. I seriously believe that I was lifted
up on strong wings of prayer, my hair included, during the interview.
(pictures of hair and fake eyelashes will be forthcoming)
Somehow I feel like I am going to die when I am in front of people.
Even though I know this not to be true, my body tells me,
"You are going down. Yes, you are." But that was not the case this time.
So surely, the Lord is changing something within my heart and my sweat glands.
And I am more than thankful. God is good.
Secondly, after the interview, my college roomies, sisters Barbie and Leslie,
flew down and met me in San Antonio to hold up my arms, as it were, and of course, to hang out after for a day or two.
The three of us have not been together in over 10 years.
10 YEARS. Which is difficult to understand since we are all 20.
Oh, no wait...we just act like we are 20 when we are together, irregardless of our age. This is not to say that we held an impromptu hat and funky jewelry photo shoot in Forever 21.....really, it isn't. Okay, we did.
We spent a good 36 hours perusing the River Walk, the Alamo, 5 different restaurants
and just talking. And talking. And laughing. And crying. And laughing.
(history note to tsgs: do not do the discovery channel Alamo walking tour if you are having a bad day...it will break you right down...go and have a coffee instead.)
Sometimes God puts people in your life who know you and love you for just being you.
Not for any other reason at all. And it is my firm belief that you should hang out
with those people as much as you can.
10 years is too long to wait in between hang outs.
Friends are precious. And you know when you are with a friend.
Because you can just be. And of course, you can eat 74 appetizers with them
in a two day period and they will not judge you or your growing belly.
So I'm back home. And that is good, too. I have 4 boys here who I can be myself with.
I missed their kisses. But I won't be foregetting San Antonio anytime soon.
It just doesn't get any better than good girlfriends and home made tortillas.
I think that will be the title of my next book.

grace for all occasions

Some of you remember the Bangtastrophe of '08.
If not let me remind you what went down.
That would be my bangs that went down.
Overly long bangs. Overly long time in between haircuts. Overly zealous cutting.
In case you need a pictorial reminder, here you go.

As soon as you can regain your breath from all the laughter at my expense,
I have something else to tell you.
I have been invited to come for a television interview to talk about the book.
In front of people. I'm flying to Texas this morning.
Have you heard anything about people's hair in Texas? I have.
It is the opposite of baby fine straw straight hair like mine.
They like good hair, people. So even though my bangs have grown out
they might not have a whole lot to work with in the hair area with me.
This interview is a fantastic opportunity to talk about how God's grace can work in our lives in everyday kinds of ways- even now just typing this I am praying for some grace in the area of my underarms since they are sweating profusely.
So, tired supergirls, if you would pray for me I would appreciate it.
If you could pray specifically for grace in the area of my bangs, my armpits and my words...not necessarily in that order....I would be profoundly grateful.
May God's grace fill you today, too, as you love your kids, do your work and fold your laundry. And as you style your bangs.