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Hometown

Pacific Northwest

Joie de VIVre

Reading, writing, international travel, taking oodles of pictures of my beautiful kids, playing poker with my teenagers, rocking my toddler to sleep, going for walks with my little kids, cruising Barnes & Noble with my hubby, savoring really good chocolate.

VIV Moment

As a mother of eight, my life is immersed in my children, and I love it that way. For the past decade, my writing has been the corner of my life that is solely mine. Beginning to blog at Owlhaven last year was a revelation, though. I expected that some people would be interested in what I had to say. But I’ve been blown away by the huge response of people interested in the stories of my life.

Not only that, I’ve also been amazed at how blogging has changed my own view of my life. I see the blessing in each day so much more clearly. The funny bits make my fingers itch for the keyboard. Even the awful moments seem more bearable with the knowledge that I can share them someplace, with people who likely have had similar moments.

Here are just a few of those moments from 2006.

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One night my 7- and 8-year-old sons were getting goofy while emptying the dishwasher, chattering and causing a ruckus. Soon the 7-year-old could be heard singing in a dramatic wavering falsetto, opera-style. The 8-year-old listened to him for a minute, then said, “Boy, when you grow up, you’re going to make a great GIRL!”

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My 3-year-old was explaining “Spider-Man” to me the other day. She’s got four older brothers, all of whom like action movies, and you can’t ALWAYS send the kid to bed when the big kids want to watch a movie. So she’s seen “Spider-Man,” and she loves it.

“The Green Goblin is the bad guy. He has wings on his ship like this [her pinky and thumb waggle on either side of her hand like wings]. He flies all around. He always gets the girl. But then Spider-Man saves her. Always he saves her.”

“And then what happens?”

“He kisses her.” Her dimples flash.

“Why?”

“Because he’s her boyfriend. And she’s his girlfriend. They’re like a family.”

“So … why do mommy and daddy kiss?” I ask.

She speaks with certainty. “Because you’re copying Spider-Man.”

So THAT’s where we got the idea.

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“Dess!” she says imperiously, standing in her diaper this morning and pointing at the closet.

“Boo,” she shouts delightedly, eyes twinkling as her head emerges from the folds of the little dress I am putting on her.

I laugh. “Oh, you look soooo pretty!” I exclaim, straightening the dress as she runs off.

“Ta-da!” she shouts to her brothers as she enters the living room, primed for her daily dose of male adulation. They, of course, happily comply with her expectations.

After all, how could they resist?

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I’ll let other women enjoy their business suits and elegant lunches — give me macaroni and cheese, and crumbs underfoot and a table full of little ones any day. However, I’ll also need my keyboard so at the end of every day I can re-form the precious moments on the page, and never ever forget how very blessed I am.

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