The Giving Project

"Give.  Giving makes others happy."

~~A. age 9

That quote above is from my daughter.  I found it one day in her sketch pad.  My heart melted.  We taught her that.  We taught our kids to give selflessly, to spread kindness, to make others happy.  It is the ONE lesson I know I have not screwed up, it is the ONE lesson I never want them to forget.  The lesson goes deeper and I hope that will come to them with time.  The deeper lesson is giving unconditionally because it makes you happy.  Never with strings attached, never with stipulations, never with conditions.  

A while back my friends and I were discussing holiday and celebratory cards.  My friend asked me, "How can you mail the same person,  year after year, and know they are never going to send one back?   I'm not sending the card because I want one back.  I'm sending the card because I love that person.  I want them to know that.  I want to imagine they get the card and can't help but smile when they see who it's from.  I want to make their day a little more special.  So, every year on their birthday, anniversary, Christmas, or for no special day at all I send a card. Always just to show them I am thinking of them.  Never with anticipation of getting one in return.  "Giving makes others happy" (and me too).

This week I have a heavy heart.  So many things happened in the span of 24 hours that just left me heartbroken and feeling down.  Not everything was devastating, but the emotional ride was an exhausting one.  This morning I knew I had to do something to aid in healing my heart.  I thought about what my daughter had written and it hit me.  I needed to start The Giving Project.  

So I found some pretty stationary (those close to me know I have a thing for pretty stationary) and in a "coincidence or phenomenon" moment I noticed the name on the stationary box is, Reasons To Be.  Perfect for what I was about to do.  I set about copying my daughter's words down.  I also took some of the heaviness in my heart and put it to paper; explaining what I was doing, then I took off for a couple of drive through restaurants.  

I hope that my giving made someone else's heart happy today.  It definitely helped make my own heart happier.  My giving project has only just begun.  I can't wait to do it again, I can't wait to reel my kids into this project, to see how they will give.   I can't wait for them to not only learn the deeper lesson, but to FEEL the deeper lesson.  

I challenge everyone who reads this to start their own Giving Project.  Get out there and give.  Unconditionally, without strings attached, and never with anticipation of getting anything in return.  Although, by doing this I guarantee you'll get quite a bit in return.  

"Give.  Giving makes others happy" (and it just might make you happy too)  

Gary's Fall

“Time remorselessly rambles down the corridors and streets of our lives. but it is not until autumn that most of us become aware that our tickets are stamped with a terminal destination.” 

~~Author, Joe L. Wheeler

Gary Adams ~ Devoted Husband, Father, Friend.

Fall is in the air.  But this is no ordinary Fall.  This is Gary's Fall.  All around us people are welcoming Fall and celebrating Autumn, way too early in my opinion, with pumpkin spiced lattes, apple crisps, and spicy vanilla candles.  Every time I see or hear someone getting too excited for Fall I want to scream.  I want to scream for them to stop rushing through the hours, days, seasons.  I want to scream for them to hold onto the lazy, hot, days of summer.  I want to scream for Gary.  For Gary's Fall.  

Gary with his wife, Teresa, their children, & grandchildren

Gary won't see another Autumn.  He fought the fight, he waged the war, he is losing his battle.   Gary's summer flew by in a haze.   His family celebrated his birthday, his life, his love of family & friends.  They knew what Fall would bring. 

Gary will fall from cancer.  Gary will not fall from grace.  He will fall from fatigue, illness, and weakness.  He will not fall from family, love, and hope.  He will not fall alone.  

Gary's faithful wife, Teresa, never leaving his side during his battle

Teresa & Gary Adams on their anniversary 2011

This is Gary's Fall.  This year will ALWAYS be Gary's Fall.  His season to soar.  

Sweet 'n Steamy Blog Tour/Book & Author Spotlight

Book Spotlight 1

Book Title: Jilted

Author: Kara Leigh Miller

Publisher: Books to Go Now

Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance

Release Date: 9.15.2013

Length: 49K

Heat Rating: Hot

Book Blurb:

Amy and Brett have been friends since they were kids; and their friendship has withstood the test of time. But can it withstand Brett's fiancée, Vanessa?

Brett Hudson has often wondered what it would be like to be more than Amy's friend, but when he's chosen as the newest professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars, he meets Vanessa, one of the shows costume designers and it's a whirlwind romance that ends in a wedding proposal. As the big day draws closer, Brett begins to think that marrying Vanessa might be a bad idea. She wants him to give up Amy. Completely. Will he give up his best friend for the woman he's supposed to marry?

Amy King is heartbroken to learn that Brett is marrying another woman. But, when Brett is jilted at the altar, he begs Amy to go on his honeymoon with him. A week on a tropical island with her best friend, the man she's fantasized about for years is a dream come true for Amy. But when Brett suggests crossing the line from friends to lovers, Amy is reluctant. Will she risk years of friendship for one night of passion?

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Jilted-ebook/dp/B00F6DFUG0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1379161399&sr=8-1&keywords=Jilted+kara+leigh+miller

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/jilted-kara-leigh-miller/1116906522?ean=2940148724681

Excerpt:

"It's because you go for the wrong type of guy," Brett said matter-of-factly, pouring a third shot down his throat. "Those muscle bound jocks are all bark and no bite. They look good on the outside, but they're a mess on the inside."

            Amy threw a piece of ice at him and laughed. "And the goody two shoes, school teacher types you date are much better?"

            "Nope." He grinned. "Which is why we're both still single."

            She sighed. "Yeah, so much for my dream of having kids."

            "You're young. I'm sure you'll find someone." He drank his last shot and chased it with his beer.

            "I'm thirty, Brett. By the time I find a man, date him, and get married, I'll be an old hag with no viable eggs."

            The thought of Amy finding a man to marry and have kids with didn't sit well with him. He couldn't stomach the thought of losing her. "I'll tell you what." He leaned across the table and pointed at her. "Three years from now, if neither of us are married, I'll marry you and give you as many babies as you want." Brett's words were slurred. Yup. He was definitely drunk. He wouldn't have made that proposition otherwise.

            "Yeah right." Amy rolled her eyes. "You and me? That would be like fucking my brother. Thanks, but no thanks."

            He flinched at her words. "You think of me as your brother?" That bothered him a lot more than it should, especially considering he'd never once thought of her as a sister.

            She shrugged. "We're best friends. How else would I think of you?" Amy glanced away, and then set her gaze on him again. "Why? How do you think of me?"

            Oh shit! He hadn't expected the conversation to backfire on him like that. What was he supposed to tell her? That he thought of her as a best friend that he wanted to fuck? No, he definitely couldn't tell her that. "As a friend, I guess. I don't know. It's not like I sit around and think about how I should think of you. You're Amy."

            "And you're drunk."

            "Maybe a little." He grinned. "So, do we have a deal or what?"

Author Bio:

Kara is a multi-published romance author who dabbles in young adult, new adult, paranormal, and contemporary romances. However, her genre of choice will always be erotic romance. She's a member of the CNY Writers Haven and the Romance Writers of America. Writing is her passion and she loves to share her knowledge and enthusiasm with her fellow authors and her fans.

Today, Kara resides in Upstate New York with her husband, five kids, three cats, and two dogs. When she's not reading or writing, she's spending time with her family and friends.

Nothing excites Kara more than hearing from her fans. So, send her a note. She'll go total fan girl over it!

Social Media Links:

Website/Blog: www.karaleighmiller.com

Email: karaleighmiller@yahoo.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/KaraLeighMiller

Twitter: www.twitter.com/KaraLeighMille1

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/KaraLeighMiller

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Book Spotlight 2

Book Title: Halo's Wish

Author: Sharon Kleve

Publisher: Books to Go Now

Genre: Sweet Contemporary Christmas Romance

Release Date: 9.15.2013

Length: 11K

Heat Rating: Sweet

Book Blurb:

Halo Ann Carlyle wishes for a home, family, and a boat-load of pets. What she gets is a bruised hip, a lump on the head, a broken ankle, and her new yellow Honda Civic is demolished.

 Rich McFarland, a sexy veterinarian, keeps showing up in the most unexpected places, promising everything she's ever wanted.

 Halo believes she only has time to pursue her career as a pet detective and must ignore her growing attraction to achieve her dreams.

 Will Halo trust her heart, and find a way to get both for Christmas?

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Halos-Wish-Dreams-Come-ebook/dp/B00F4M2N6S/ref=sr_1_11?=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1379080942&sr=1-11&keywords=sharon+kleve

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/halos-christmas-wish-sharon-kleve/1116884729?ean=2940148671077

Excerpt:

She'd just placed another call through to Pemsky's office, which went straight to his voicemail, when the office door opened. Halo smiled and looked up into dreamy, gold-flecked green eyes, short sandy brown hair, a slight cleft chin, and full lips set in a hard line. Even with the stern look he had on his face, my hormones jumped into overdrive.

Mr. Dreamy cleared his throat—she must've been staring. In her most professional voice she said, "Good morning. How may I help you?"

He removed a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and unfolded the sheet.

"I was parked in front of the Beacon Hill Ale House and my driver's side mirror was sideswiped by one of Pemsky's Security's SUV's Friday night."

Halo loved the Beacon Hill Ale House. Every Saturday night the Ale House allowed local bands to jam together. That's where she'd met her last loser boyfriend. She'd had a lot of loser boyfriends. She's currently on a hiatus from dating, but she wouldn't mind jumping back into the dating game for this dream-boat.

He handed her the piece of paper.

"I wasn't able to get a look at the driver, but I got the license plate number of the vehicle that hit my car and drove away."

He emphasized the last part.

"I'm very sorry about your car. I'm sure Mr. Pemsky will be happy to cover the damage." Halo checked the company log and Pemsky's name popped up as the driver—she gulped.

Author Bio:

Sharon Kleve was born and raised in Washington and currently lives on the Olympic Peninsula with her husband.

Sharon is a writer of paranormal and contemporary romance. She loves romance. She loves reading romance, living romance, and especially loves writing about romance. She gets no greater feeling than watching her characters come alive in each other's arms. Most of all, she loves giving her characters the happily ever after they deserve—with a few bumps and bruises along the way.

One of her favorite things to do is picking up a new book and sinking into the story, immersing herself in the emotions between the characters. She hopes to inspire her readers the same way her favorite authors have inspired her.

When not writing, she can usually be found either curled up in her recliner with her cat and a good book, or in the kitchen baking sourdough bread or bagels.

Social Media Links:

Email: sharon.kleve@yahoo.com
Blog: http://authorsharonkleve.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sharonrkleve

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SharonKleve

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5399389.Sharon_Kleve

Linkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/sharon-kleve/56/ab/691/

Rafflecopter Giveaway Info:

Prizes:

• One (1) Winner will receive a $25 gift card to a book seller of their choice
• One (1) Winner will receive Kara Leigh Miller's complete backlist, which includes five novellas and two full-length books
• One (1) Winner will receive Sharon Kleve's complete backlist, which includes six books
• Three (3) Winners will receive a signed paperback copy of Kara Leigh Miller's, Death of a Waterfall
• Three (3) Winners will receive a signed paperback copy of Sharon Kleve's, Love Crazed

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Universal Truths

The other night I did something incredibly stupid.  Something that I never do.   I lied to my daughter.  It was a lie meant to protect her.  She was worrying about something and I lied about the chain of events in order to have her not worry one minute longer.  Incredibly stupid I tell you.  In my defense I was EXHAUSTED!  I was frustrated that she, beyond her control, worries about every little thing.  I just wanted to fix her; make it all right.  So I lied.

At the exact moment I lied I remembered that I was dealing with Little Miss Sherlock Holmes. After all,  she was Daphne from Scooby Doo one year for Halloween;. she has the credentials.   She was determined to piece this mystery together.  

After 10 minutes of non stop interrogation from her I caved.  I am a tough mama, but honestly I was a little afraid she was going to move on to torture tactics.   After all, she has a little brother; she has the credentials.  So, I confessed.  I gave her the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  I explained to her WHY I did what I did.  She took it all in and began to process this information with a silence that scared the crap out of me; I just knew she was deciding my punishment during that silence.  What she said next was all it took for me to learn my lesson.  What she told me I will carry in my heart for the rest of my life:

She said, "You know when you tell a lie the universe knows and you will be found out.  You cannot escape a lie."  Whoa, when did she become so philosophical?  She then proceeded to say, "Plus you are my mom; I trust you, I need you, so you can't lie to me ever again".  I told you she was trained in torture tactics.  I think it would have felt better had she physically ripped my heart out or knocked the wind out of me with a sucker punch.  

I learned two very important lessons that night.  1. I cannot fix her.  I cannot stop her worry, I cannot control her anxiety, I cannot make the pain of what she deals with on daily basis go away.  I can, however, give her the tools (and the truths) she needs to work through her worry, anxiety, and stress.  2. Never! Ever! Never!  lie to a girl who watches Scooby Doo, reads mysteries, and has a little brother.

She is my daughter; she trusts me,  I need her, and I can't lie to her ever again.  That is the universal truth.  

Same Time Next Year

It's that time of year again, back to school time.  Which means it's my crying time.  I am, as I am every year, an emotional mess.  I am not the typical mom who cheers the first day of school, I don't do cartwheels at the bus stop, and I don't bask in all of that uninterrupted quiet time I get for 7 hours a day/5 days a week.  Okay, that last one is a lie; I really do enjoy that part.   It's also that time of year when teachers, mommy-bloggers, and positive parenting sites put out these amazing tutorials, blogs, and essays.  They are all such amazing writers (whom I envy) who's stories make me cry.

Our summers are always well spent.  Just the right amount of everything.  We were busy.  We were lazy.  We enjoyed hours at the pool, hours in front of the tv, hours being together.  We kept up with doctor's appointments, play dates, and summer camps.  We did the go go go thing, and we did the stay in our PJs until noon and not the leave the house thing.  Every minute together was perfect.  Except for the few "my kids-are-not-perfect-I-sometimes-lose-it" times.   

I feel like summer is my chance to watch them grow.  If you have children in school then you know that nights and weekends are usually a blur.  For us summer vacation is a chance to slow down, enjoy more family time, and watch them grow.  And just like every summer vacation from school it comes to an end before I am ready.  It happens every year.  Of course when this new school year comes to a close I will have seen them grow even more.  It happens every year.  The whole watching them grow thing is a bittersweet reminder that they are not my babies anymore.  

Tonight I will cry (tears of sadness) for the end of summer.  Tomorrow I will cry (tears of pride) putting them on the bus.  Tomorrow night I will cry (tears of exhaustion) as we come down off that first day back.   Just as I did last year and just as I will next year.  It happens every year.  

The Wrecking Crew

I never thought cleaning my kids' rooms would move me to tears.   We all know legos and colored pencils can cause tears when stepped upon but, simply picking them up...who knew:

Dear Son,
You have two lego tables and approximately 9,000 legos, so it is no surprise that they simply cannot all be contained and must spill out ALL OVER your floor.  As I picked up today I realized that in a few short years this phase will be over and we won't be tripping over, stepping on, and dancing like a maniac around all of the legos.  You're growing up and one day, all too soon, you'll be moving on from lego houses to dorm rooms to your first apartment.  I am totally NOT cleaning any of those, your father was a bachelor once and eww!

Dear Daughter,
I love that next to your bed you keep a journal, a sketch pad, and always a pencil or two or sometimes 50 strewn about close by.  You have always had a hard time saying what you want, but you have never had a hard time articulating those thoughts into written words and drawings.  You have the creative ability that takes most professional artists their whole lives to perfect.  One day you too will be moving on and, as much as I may not like that, I know you'll have new tools to express yourself with.

To the both of you,
For now I will relish in your messy, cluttered, disorganized rooms for when you are older I don't want your memories to be how clean your room was; I want your memories to be what we created, dreamt, built, and played in your rooms.  The day will come soon enough when you put away your childhood play things.  It is a hard day to imagine and one I will choose not to think about.  The next time you hear me say, "Your rooms are a wreck", what I hope you'll hear is, "I love that you're enjoying this crazy childhood where all you have to worry about is what will you play next".  (even if you don't put the first toy away first, sigh)

Love,
Mom
p.s. now go clean your room!

Reflections

I stand before you exposed and vulnerable.  I wish you would turn out the lights or possibly dim them.  I see the way you look at me slowly from head to toe, side to side, your eyes moving slowly.  For a moment it seems to me that you don't recognize me; as though you're seeing me, the real me, for the first time.  For a fleeting moment I think you'll turn and run.  But, you don't run. You stay and look longingly at my features.

And, just when I think I will turn and run away from your gaze you reach out and touch my face.  I think to myself, please don't notice the lines around my eyes.  Your hand moves slowly down to my neck and I hope you are not seeing that my skin is no longer tight. I wonder, "can you love me as I am"?   I stretch long, knowing that this will erase what you're seeing.  Like a ballerina I raise my ams long above my head, touch my fingers together, and present myself long and graceful before you. I turn on my toes ever so slightly to show you my still curved profile.  You appreciate this; this stance erases stretch marks, elongates my once slender hips, and smoothens out the dimples on my legs.

I look deep into your eyes searching for what it is you really see before you.

Then I start to realize that something has changed in the way you see me.  You begin to whisper to me that these changes that had me wishing for darkness have actually made me beautiful again.  Still.  You see the woman before you who has aged with the wisdom that comes from learning the hard way.  You see my scars as evidence that I have fallen and picked myself back up.  You notice the lines around my eyes as proof that I didn't stay inside out of the light; that I got our there, turned my face to the sun, and let myself shine.  You caress my stomach, that is no longer flat,  and know that I have created new life.  You breath into my soul, "you are so beautiful from the inside out and I love you as you are".

Mirror Mirror on the wall, thank you for loving me as I am.