Happy New Year 2012

I thought about making some resolutions of Things I Want to Change in the Year 2012 ... And then I remembered how hard it is for me to make changes. So instead of resolving to change things, I resolve to do my favorite things more often in this new year ... Here are a few of the things I can't wait to do!

• I will love more ... My husband, my children, my family, my friends.
• I will laugh more often ... with those I love and by myself.
• I will enjoy moments with those I love ... I will worry less about the small stuff and will stop to play with my children - puzzles, games, Legos, tag; I will enjoy the moments with my husband and slow down to appreciate the time we have together.
• I will read more books with meaning. Taking suggestions now, so make yours.
• I will cook at home and teach my children what little I know, and I will make time to cook with my Mom.
• I will spend time with friends ... Don't worry, I'll drive to Clemson, or Lyman, Columbia, Charlotte ... Where are you, Friends? And if you're just down the street, we're having dinner or meeting at the park - but we're getting together!
• I will plan the Girls Trip we keep talking about and we'll do it (maybe it will be a couple of years, but lets get to planning!)
• I am going to walk the dogs farther and more often.
• Blog more often! I promise!

2012 is going to be great and I can't wait to share it with those I love and with those I will come to love!

Some things to come ...

 More ballet and tap

 More awesome piano music

 More celebrations with family and friends

Happy New Year!

Apologies

Y'all. I am so sorry. We have been so ridiculously, insanely busy and I have been a completely slack blogger! So, to catch up ...

We've had our property surveyed. No big deal. No cross words spoken. But I did have the surveyors had extra markers (normal old stakes and also re-bar) now mark at several intervals on our property line.

I am finished with school for the semester ... Exams are finished and I ended up with a 3.125 GPA - .375 from making Dean's List, so I'm a little bummed about that. But I only lack 9 hours until the Degree in Communications-Journalism is mine. And then on to Grad School - but I digress!

The kiddos are on Christmas Break ... we've baked and decorated cookies (dry runs for Santa's cookies), we've painted Christmas sun catchers, we've read books, we've played play-doh, we've participated in our choir Christmas specials, we've walked dogs, we've tried new recipes out, and we've cleaned and still have more cleaning to go.

But we're still here, just swamped of late. But in case I don't get another chance to sit down and blog ...

Merry Christmas!

New Addition ...

Ha! To the blog, you sillies!
It's already the middle of November, so I'm almost too late, but ...
For the 5th year, the American Red Cross will disperse Christmas (holiday) cards to soldiers. I am adding the button to my blog so that you can go straight to their site and make sure you get all the details.
But do this. Send just one card, from your family to a hero.
A hero?
Yes.
These men and women are sacrificing time with their own husbands, wives, children, parents and friends to protect our freedoms and our way of life. Even in times of peace.
So, send a soldier a Christmas Card!
Here's the address:
Holiday Mail For Heroes
P.O. Box 5456
Capitol Heights, MD 20791-5456

Neighbors

So, we've had a little trouble with a neighboring family lately.

First, our property line is weird, and when they bought the house next door (2008), they did not have the property surveyed and the surveying posts from when we bought our home (2002) were long gone. We have a mostly-fenced back yard,but we did not come close to the property line when we fenced, since it would cost more and it was not necessary. We have an idea of where the line is, but since it wasn't a huge deal with the previous neighbors, we didn't make much of an effort to say, "This is ours, this is yours" - we just cut the grass and went about our business, waving when we saw each other. But these neighbors, for some reason, think that we're lying to them about the property line. (Don't worry - on this my husband and I have agreed - we're trying to find someone to come out and survey our property so that this becomes a non-issue).

Second, we have dogs. Now our dogs come in at night and sleep in their crates, but during the day if it's nice, they are outside. This has not always been the case. In fact it's a within-the-last-month kind of recent. One of the reasons is that the children (one is 14 or 15 and the other child is 4 or 5) of our neighbors harass our dogs. The older child has been caught in our backyard on several occasions without permission and on at least two occasions, late at night. Once this summer I caught the older child with either a BB gun or a pellet gun, pointed in the direction of our house/backyard when the parents weren't home - I made a point of calling him down and telling him that if I caught him pointing the gun in the direction of our house or yard again, I'd have to call the police. And almost every day we have to go in our yard to collect the junk that gets thrown over the fence (toys, balls, shoes, coats, sweatshirts, coke bottles, etc.). At least twice I've collected the clothing items (if they weren't destroyed) and took them back the neighbors house and sort of laughed it off, but making sure to point out that these could be dangerous to our dogs. To no avail.

The other problem that I have is a weird one. My husband works second shift (he goes in to work between 4 and 5 p.m and gets off around 2-3 a.m., depending on how the news cycle is that night). The family that lives next door is sort of opposite - the husband works part-time and is usually home around 3 p.m., while the wife isn't usually home until dinner time or later. But anytime they need to talk to us, the husband comes over well after my husband has left for work (which is obvious since his car is not here and we don't have a garage). I am very uncomfortable with this, since usually he comes over when his wife is home and 99.9% of the time, when he comes over it's dark out.

Our houses sit sort of on a hill and we live on a very busy road. Neither of us have anywhere to turn around, so I generally back in the driveway so that I can pull out. But my mom will sometimes just pull straight across my yard to their driveway. Since our property line is odd, she does drive on a few feet of their yard (3-4 feet, I think).

Well, the other night (Wednesday) he came over and rang the doorbell after the kids were in bed; I was about to get in the shower, but had to re-dress and run to the door. I turned on the porch light and stepped outside, pulling the front door closed behind me, but he never stepped back toward our steps. He came over to ask us to not drive across his yard anymore, as he is having a hard time getting grass to grow (No, he has not seeded the yard or ever even turned a sprinkler on). I said, "Sure, that's fine. We won't do it again" and literally kind of shrugged and turned to go back in the house, when he kept on and on, and he threatened to put 2x4's with nails through them out in his yard so that if we do it again it will tear up our tires. I admit, I was angry - I mean, I said we would not do it again, what more was I to do? But anger got the best of me and so I added, "We'll be happy to not do that again but you need to make sure that your kids stopping throwing things in our yard for our dogs to chew up". And I turned around, came in the house and locked the door.

And I was angry. In fact, I am still angry. Yes, we (my Mom - haha) have been in the wrong by driving across their yard, but otherwise, we've been great neighbors to them (we've fed their cat, we've watched out for their home and gotten their mail when they were out of town, we've cut their grass a couple of times, we've loaned them tools and even let their son use our phone on numerous occasions, just to name a few things). But ...

I can say, quite honestly when I'm looking at my heart (grrr - sometimes I hate being held accountable by what I believe), we have not loved them. We've been annoyed by them. We've judged them. We've rolled our eyes at them. We have not, really, been good neighbors. I have not been a good neighbor.

The Bible tells us a lot about being a good neighbor (note: All scripture comes from the NIV) ...

In the Old Testament, Leviticus 19:18 tells us, "Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD ..."

In the New Testament, Mark 12:28 -31 says "²⁸ One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”
   ²⁹ “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. ³⁰ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’³¹ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

and

Galations 5:13-14 says, " ¹³ You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. ¹⁴ For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” ¹⁵ If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

So. I have been doing a crummy job of loving my neighbor. And I have been doing a great job of holding on to anger. So. Now, I've put it out there - and I hope this will help to hold me accountable to learning to love my neighbor as myself. It's a lot harder than I would have thought.

A Quiet House

A quiet house is something that I don't have often. 


I am a talker. My husband is a talked. My 8-year old is a talker. My 3-year old is a talker.


We also like to listen to music. Or the television. 


Tonight, I'm sitting at home. Alone. My husband is at work and my children are sleeping over at my parents house.My dogs are sleeping in their crates, warm and toasty. There's only one show I want to watch (ABC's new show, Grimm). 

And so my house is quiet. 

It's a little unusual, and normally I'd be at a loss for what to do with my quiet time. But this week I've had a special project - praying for my friends. 


Last week a friend of mine did a half-marathon -less than 11 months after surgery to repair a compound fracture in her ankle. She did not run the half, she walked it. And while she walked it, she carried a notebook filled with the prayer requests of friends and family, people she knows and some she does not. 


Since I'm not doing a half anytime soon (I've just recently started 'training' to run 5Ks - phew!), I've been using Facebook (this week) as a tool to collect the prayer requests of my friends.  Since I'm generally a pretty selfish person, this has been a big departure from my 'normal' prayer time. 


Normally, my prayers revolve around my family - my husband and children, my parents, sister and sister-in-law, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews. 


But this week I have tried to focus on the needs of others. And I can say, with honesty, that I have looked forward to my quiet time each day and the honor of bringing the cares of friends and acquaintances to the feet of God. 


Friends, I have, and continue to be, honored to pray as you:

• Add to your families (through adoption and biological);
• Seek church homes in new communities; 
• Worry over the health of your Mamas and Daddies; 
• Seek new job opportunities; 
• Overcome financial hardships; 
• Work on and honor your marriages; 
• Got to school; 
• Raise your children;
• For many, many other things. 

It is such an honor to step out of my comfort zone to pray for you. Thank you for giving me a focus for my quiet time. 


BJM

Grandma

My Grandma was not an easy woman. She couldn't be. Her parents died when she was little girl, leaving she and her siblings to be raised by the oldest brother. They worked hard in tobacco fields in unbearable heat in the low-country of South Carolina. When she was older, she married my Papa. He was an alcoholic who, on a good (sober) day was a good Daddy to his five children. On a bad day, he spent his paycheck on booze. My Grandma had to work hard to care for their five children.

By the time I was born in 1970-something, my Grandma already had 11 grandchildren. My cousins were several years ahead of me — elementary or junior high school. I missed out on a lot of not-so-good years, since by the time I was born my Papa was (mostly) sober. I am also sure I missed out on a lot of important things, like knowing my cousins while I was growing up (although we're making up for that now, I think — all of us being adults now).

While my Grandma was not traditional, or soft, she was loving. And she desired for all of us — her children, grandchildren (13) and great-grandchildren (10 when Grandma passed away in 2002; 20 as of today) — to be successful. 


But tonight's post is more of a fun one. At least for me. 


My sister and I would spend several weeks during the summer break with my Grandma. We loved it. We had tons of freedom (as long as our lights were out and we were in bed when Grandma was); we got to ride horses with cousins, learned to drive cars on dirt roads and got to go to the beach at least once a week. We also got to help Grandma in her garden, feed and water the chickens, goats and guniea fowl and help with meals and cleaning. 


But again, I digress. 


My Grandma was fun. She told jokes, acted silly with us and sang songs while teaching us a lot about how to work hard and respect others.


Tonight I found this recording of a song my Grandma used to sing to me. I actually thought that she'd made it up. It would have been cool if she had, but I'm glad to have this since I don't have a recording of her singing it. 


Enjoy.

Dogs

We have two dogs.

We also have two children. And two cats.

And they each need, and deserve, lots of time and attention.

Our first pet, Neci, came to us the week before we got married. My soon-to-be-husband and out were visiting my Aunt the week before our wedding, when as we were leaving we heard kittens crying. It was really quite pitiful and off went my soon-to-be-husband to rescue the kittens, which had been abandoned. There were four kittens and as I had just read Rebecca Wells' The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, we named the four girl kittens after the four main female characters - Neci, Caro, Vinnie and Teensy. The next week we returned to our new home where "our girls" were already living with my Husband after our wedding and reception to find our Teensy kitten very ill. I spent the night holding her, trying to get her to drink from a dropper, keeping her warm. The next day, we spent the morning at the Emergency Vet, where we ended up having her euthanized due to her sever illness. Several weeks later, after placing ads in our local paper and at veterinary offices, we gave one of the calico kittens - Vivvi - to a new home. We kept Caro and Neci. When the kitties were two years old, Caro was hit by a car, leaving us with one car - a calico, our Neci. 


When our older child was almost two years older, we decided our family was ready for a dog. So we looked around and found a breeder in Tacoa, Ga. and we got our Sully, a golden-doodle male (his dad is a Standard Poodle and his mom is a Golden Retriever).  We chose a golden-doodle because they don't shed (their hair grows like ours - and it needs constant attention!) and also because they are such an easy dog to train - with consistency, that is! They are (generally) very intelligent dogs and very loving. We have definitely found this to be true with our Sully. He is a very happy dog who, even at close to 70 pounds, thinks he's a lap dog and loves to flop on our feet. He also is still very high energy and needs to be walked a lot  ... 

Our second dog (Lux) and second cat (Jedi) came to us as strays. Our cats live outside and our dogs are inside-outside. We have a (fairly) large fenced back yard, so they have lots of room to run, but we have to make sure that they get exercise. Lately that means lots of walking - 2-3 miles each day! But over the last few weeks, as they days have gotten cooler and daylight hours seem to grow shorter, the walks have been great. I tend to do the walking, which is hard for me as I'm soooo out of shape, but I also enjoy it. We walk in neighborhoods near our home and sometimes go to a nearby park to walk. And if we're lucky, we have a friend to join us. 


What do you do to keep your pets healthy, socialized and tired out enough to sleep?

Our World

So there's a whole bunch of sad news going on in our world - which is true of almost every, single day.

You need some examples? Here you go:

More than 250 people have been confirmed dead after a 7.2 earthquake that rocked Eastern Turkey over the weekend. 

On October 4 a Dad came home to find his 11-month old daughter missing. Authorities are still searching for Baby Lisa Irwin.

On Friday, October 14, five children and their foster dad were killed in a car accident. 

Sometime on Thursday October 13 a two-year old Chinese girl named Yueyue was run over multiple times, with no one stopping to help her. She died from the injuries she sustained.

So here's a little good news. 

Late yesterday afternoon, around dusk, an acquaintance of ours (Joey) posted on his facebook wall a story that was heartbreaking and at the same time, a reminder of the good in people.

Joey's mom was driving yesterday (Sunday 10/23) down a fairly busy highway around suppertime. She happened to notice a child walking, alone. So she stopped. He had only a blanket (no clothes - temps at that time here yesterday were probably between 45-50 degrees) and could only say one word, "doggie". He was able to indicate his age when asked by holding up two fingers. So she stopped, called the police and waited with him.

So while there's a whole bunch of sad, horrible stuff happening here and around the world, it's nice to be reminded that there are some good things happening, too - even in bad situations.

Vent

This is going to be a brief post to vent. Here goes ...

Someday you might read something in your local newspaper about someone you know - maybe he or she is a student or former student; maybe they were a high school classmate; maybe they taught your child's Sunday School or preschool class; maybe they are a neighbor or even a friend.

Maybe it will be a glowing story about their amazing community service or their state-of-the art classroom.

And maybe it will be the most awful thing you've ever read - someone you know and like is arrested. maybe it's for tax evasion or dealing drugs or something worse. And I promise - it will suck when that happens.

But here's something you need to chew on when you're reading those stories - good, bad, impartial ...

The journalist who wrote that story is not writing it because they love your neighbor and want to write about how wonderful they are, and likewise, they are not writing that story because they hate the person and want to see them reamed in the court of public opinion. (Which is not to say that sometimes the journalist handling the story will enjoy what they are writing about - maybe they loved hearing the story or maybe the person they are writing about has always been a jerk in public encounters so it feels good for them to get theirs, so to speak - those sort of news encounters are much more rare than the average reader thinks - honest).

The journalist who is writing that story is doing so because it's the news. Period. 

And when you're sitting back in your comfy chair, complaining about the "biased media", remember this: My husband, and many of our friends, ARE those journalists. And the good ones - they agonize over every story, every photo, because they want to be truthful. And sometimes the truth, it sucks. And it's not what you, or I, want to hear.

Good, honorable, ethical journalists want to deserve the trust you've given them. They bring those stories - and many you can be thankful you've never have to read - home with them. And many, many times it's heartbreaking for them to have to run those stories - but it's their job, their passion. 'Cause trust me when I say - the pay is not worth the heartache (from agonizing over stories) and the uncertainty (of the profession) that many - most - good journalists live with day in and day out.

So when you're reading about this great kid that you know who made a stupid mistake and the local paper had to run that story (because they can't ethically choose to run only the good stuff about the same kid/team/school), remember how much you appreciated that same newspaper running the story about the unregistered sex offender who left his light on last Halloween and invited kids into his/her home; or the driver who has had multiple DUI's but is still out there driving around - on the same roads that you and your children drive on - and how that story resulted in his/her license being suspended or was jailed. And remember: You didn't know those people, so you didn't think that the local newspaper was out to get you and yours.

That's all. That's my vent for the weekend. Enjoy some college football today, Friends!

(Almost the) Best Gift, Ever

(borrowed this photo of The Great Pee Dee River in Marion County, SC from www.csrasportsman.com)

 

My Daddy grew up in a tiny town in the Low Country of South Carolina called Gresham. My Grandma lived all of her married life in Gresham, and so every summer, every Thanksgiving and lots of times in between, we made the four hour car trip from the Upstate to Gresham.

On the way, my sister and I would mostly sleep, read, or argue. My Mom seemed to be forever painting her toenails. And Daddy drove. We'd leave on Friday afternoon when he got home from work, so it was usually pretty late when we got there. And as much as we couldn't wait to see Grandma, there was a great thing that had to happen before we got to Gresham. We had to cross the Great Pee Dee River.

My Papa died when I was in the third grade. I wish I could say that I have incredible, vivid memories of him, but I don't. 

My Papa, he walked with a limp because he was born with a club foot. 

My Papa drove an old green truck but I don't remember the make or model, if I ever knew.

As an adult I've learned a lot about the man who was my Daddy's Father, many things that hurt my heart and have changed the way I thought of my Papa. 

But one thing I am certain about is that as an "old man" he was proud of us - his grandchildren. Years after he passed away, I would sneak and go through the treasures he left behind. Pictures of my cousins (most of whom were in high school or college when he passed away), newspaper clippings, notes written on scraps of paper about one or the other of us, art work from school or church. I remember being jealous that my older cousins had more time to make him proud, that he'd made note of them.

But the real, hard and fast memories I have of him are few. I remember the smell of his pipe; how he'd ask us to help him take off his shoes; that he put his contacts in at the kitchen table; that Grandma always spread newspaper under his plate at the kitchen because he was so messy. 

One thing that I recall vividly about my Papa was his love for the Great Pee Dee River. He loved the River so much; maybe more than he loved some of his own family. It was not a thing he could wrap up in a pretty bow or put away towards a college education, or put in a trust toward our futures. But it was a gift that he gave each of us at some point.

Grandma and Papa had taken us to the Country Kitchen for a bottled Pepsi, then to the River to check Papa's traps. He was showing us things along the riverbank - what I don't recall now - but he told us (my sister and I) - that the River was his, and that he was giving it to us, to his "Grans". I don't remember him telling us what we were supposed to do with the River, and as a very little girl I remember wondering how I was supposed to hold on to it - it was, after all, a pretty big gift. I know now that the River is a part of my family: A friend who welcomes us each time we cross her bridge, an integral part of the story of my family's life. And I know that while the Great Pee Dee River is mine, it has also belonged to my Daddy, to his sisters and brother, to my cousins, and now to my children. But just like it can't be wrapped up in pretty paper, it can't be caught and held. It's ever-changing, shifting ... working its way to the sea.

stealing from Pat Conroy's The Prince of Tides ...

"... the moon lifted a forehead of stunning gold above the horizon, lifted straight out of the filigreed, light-intoxicated clouds that lay on the skyline in attendant veils. Behind us, the sun was setting in a simultaneous congruent withdrawal and the river turned to flame in a quiet duel of gold ... The new gold of moon astonishing and ascendant, the depleted gold of sunset extinguishing itself in the long westward slide, it was the old dance of days in the Carolina marshes, the breathtaking death of days before the eyes of children, until the sun vanished, its final signature a ribbon of bullion strung across the tops of water oaks. The moon then rose quickly, rose like a bird from the water, from the trees, from the islands, and climbed straight up --gold, then yellow, then pale yellow, pale silver, silver-bright, then something miraculous, immaculate, and beyond the silver, a color native only to southern nights "

Five Things I Like, 'Cause It's Friday

It's Friday. My kids have no school (yeah) and we're being lazy. But I didn't want you to think I've forgotten you ... so, in no particular order I give you 5 things I like - 'cause it's Friday!

1.       I like hand-written notes. I like getting them and I like giving them.Thank you, Emily Post.
2.       I like wearing my glasses. They make me feel smarter. Not too proud to admit it, either.
3.       I like my forehead. Seriously. It's the one part of me that I look in the mirror and it doesn't make me cringe.
4.       I like the original version of Footloose. Why would you want to re-make that movie when you re-making it means that you no longer have Kevin Bacon as the lead?
5.       I like Parenthood. Not my job, but the television show. Tuesday nights, NBC, 10 pm EST.

Alrighty, then. Have a great weekend. I'll post some updates over the weekend, if I don't get too sucked in to cleaning and organizing. And remember - click on the ads!

Mid-Semester Blues

So ... back in school after eight years of NOT being in school is hard.

I'm definitely a different kind of student now that I'm picking up the tab - which means (among other things):

• No sleeping in just because it's a rainy day and no skipping class 'cause I kind of feel like I'm maybe getting sick.
• No patience for the 'waste time questions' that some of my classmates seem to think are perfect for a class that I'm paying a ridiculous amount of money to take part in. 

But likewise, I don't want to put up with a professor/instructor who picks favorites or takes pleasure in tricking students.


Today I got a test back. It was a test that, admittedly, only took me 20 minutes to complete. But it's a test that I spent a tremendous amount of time preparing for: I attended every class meeting (was on time, stayed until the end), I have read every chapter, I have taken copious notes (both on the reading and from lecture).

So when I get a test back and three of the questions I've missed are TRICK questions, I get a little frustrated.

Let's be honest here: College is important. Many of the classes that students are required to take do a great job of preparing us for the real world, or at the "least", more academic work. But some of the courses that we are required to take are, well, a waste.

And sometimes that has something to do with who is teaching the course.

Yes, I'm learning a lot of lingo in this course. Yes, some aspects of the course are interesting. But the reality is that I am taking this class because it's required and not because it's something I one day want to pursue as a career choice (and I would say this is true of the majority of students in the class; Although, no, I have not formally surveyed every student in the course).

The job of teacher - at any level - is to encourage learning, to encourage students to go a little deeper in their thinking, to provide students with the information they need in a format that is palatable, to be a guide into new studies.

So right now I am incredibly frustrated by a teacher whose joy comes from intentionally tricking students, rather than teaching ... Grrr.


I am taking notes as the semester progresses so that when we have the opportunity to give feedback on the course and the semester, I will be prepared. I'll let you know how that goes.

A note: I have added google adsense to my blog ... please click on the ads below for me to receive a paycheck!!

Got a few issues, so what?

If you know me, you might hear me say, “yeah, I’m a little O.C.D. about that” or you might hear me say “yeah, I’m mildly dyslexic” or even, “yeah, that’s the A.D.D.” And you might think I’m joking, or making fun. 

I’m not. 

I have some issues. I am not a compulsive hand-washer or even a compulsive cleaner. But I’m compulsive about a few specific things. 

I worry that doors aren’t locked. 

I worry that seat belts are buckled.

I like the bed made a certain way, or not made at all. 

I like my computer files to be filed in labeled folders with names that make sense. 

I have to do things in certain order — if it’s a chore, I do the hardest thing first and end with the easiest chore (I deep clean before I strip the sheets). 

I have to run errands in a specific order — I go to the farthest stop from home first and work my way back home. 

And I won’t even start on packing a suitcase or the car for a trip. 

I’m 30-something and I don’t know my left from my right. Ask me to take a left turn and I can do so because I know that the driver’s side of the car is on the left. I know that I drive on the right side of the road. But to know left from right, I have to hold up my hands and find the capitol “L” (thumb and pointer finger) — that’s how I know which hand is my left. 

I transpose numbers. Often. I have to run my finger along a series of numbers and say them out loud to know that I’m getting them in the right order. I memorized the face of my phone and I memorize phone numbers so that I don’t dial 4945 when I mean to dial 4549. 

I start projects — big ones, small ones — and I get sidetracked by a book. Or a cabinet that’s out of order. Or a car that needs to be cleaned out. I make lists and I stick to them, or I get lost in the jumble of things that need to be done. I take notes and keep a notebook in a specific order. I highlight and use post-its to mark up special pages and chapters. I have ways of coping, but if I deviate from my plan then I find it almost impossible to get back on track. 

I promised honesty, so here it is. None of is perfect. We are all just doing the best we can in many instances. We check locks. We wash our hands . We make lists. We do the best we can. 

Wanna share your issues?