Part of my problem is that I want to get it right. All the emotions that I feel over The Missional Mom – and there is a lot to sort through – I’m afraid to write anything. So I’m just going to jump in and hit publish. Forgive me if this is rather steam of conscienceness. I can’t write this any other way. . .

The Missional Mom (Living with Purpose at Home and in the World) by Helen Lee is a book I’ve been looking to read for a long time. I’ve been hungry for the message found in these pages years before Lee wrote her book.

My mothering right now is in a funny place.  My children need me; they don’t need me. It’s an odd place to be. My eldest will be 13 years old this summer. My youngest almost six; she’s getting good at making her own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There is still much to do here, but the hard work of caring for little babies and toddlers is over.

For a long time, I’ve looked at our days together, our homeschooling too, and wondered if there was something more I could be doing. And by more I mean doing for others in a meaningful way, things I can involve my children in as well, because I don’t want them growing up thinking being a Christian is mainly about going to church twice a week, AWANA club and saying grace at meals.

In all honesty, a lot of my Christian faith has taken on a ho-hum routine to it these past years and it’s a scary place to be. I never want to think of my faith in the Lord as boring or routine, but that’s what I’ve let it become. I know that’s my problem, not His lacking or unfaithfulness, but me being stuck in a spiritual rut.

Is any of this making any sense? Does anyone relate to what I’m saying? I’ve been a Christian for a long time and I know the correct answers for Sunday School. I can play the game.

Then I come up against a book like The Missional Mom and it makes me want to find my way back to a time when my faith was exciting and I did things. You know, those crazy things you would do because you just had to make your belief known to others around you no matter how crazy it made you look? Or you would go places and do things because you knew it mattered in the Kingdom of God?

I read The Missional Mom and it made me want to go places and do things again for the Lord. Of course, now I need get to do these things as a mom because that’s who I am and how can I leave my kids out when they need to understand Christianity beyond AWANA?

I want to be a mom who does exciting work for the Lord.

Is that bad, wanting the exciting? Life as a homeschooling, stay-at-home mom has a lot of mundane to it, don’t you think? But how would we recognize the wow if we didn’t have the dull? One of the things I appreciated about the book are all the mentions Lee gives to her own homeschooling and of other moms who successfully combined homeschooling and some sort of ministry.

Those are the moms I want to go back and re-read. If she can do it, why can’t I?

Don’t you love it when a book moves you to change?

Part 2 : Yet more thoughts on how this book has impacted my life, especially my approach to how I spend my time online.

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of The Missional Mom from the publisher in exchange for a review.

Finally! My thoughts on The Missional Mom (part 1) is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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On Friday, you will travel by car, ferry and foot to attend the first Book Blogger Convention in the great City. The renowned Book Expo America will also be in the building; not sure you will have time to walk the floor there with all the other crazed book fans. I suspect you are going to have to chose between book blogging workshops and free books.

You better bring a tote bag.

I know you are nervous about going into the City. You are not a city person, as much as you would like to easily move between the two worlds of city and country. The crowds, the traffic, the amount of man-made material under your feet is not part of your daily life. You can count the number of cars that pass your house daily.

And I sense the heart of your apprehension, the “What if?” lurking in the back of your mind. This will be your first time in the City since that day when the towers came down and the City proved vulnerable to evil and the innocent fell from the sky.

You were a mom of only two then – a toddler girl, a baby boy. Today, you have four young ones at home and that toddler girl is now what they call a tween.

You’ve seen the City from a distance, from the safety of New Jersey soil, driven past the Manhattan skyline several times to visit the Statue of Liberty, a museum or to vacation further north. This time you will be walking the City streets, in a convention hall with scores of people. Your children will be with your mom and dad, enjoying time with Grandma and Poppy, happy to jump on the trampoline and eat numerous ice cream cones. Your mom is generous with the treats, isn’t she?

They won’t be anywhere near the City.

Your brother told you how he walked past that car bomb earlier this month. The bomb that didn’t work right, only filling the car with smoke to alert a pedestrian of the danger smoldering inside. He and and his friends left Yankee Stadium to go to dinner – his May Day birthday dinner – that night in Times Square.

We had to have walked past that car, he told you the next day. He told you the story and you immediately thought of the Book Bloggers Convention.

Don’t think so much, Monica.

Who would want to harm a bunch of book nerds? This is the world of publishing and book blogging, we are not sitting at the popular kids table in the high school cafeteria. Nobody is paying attention to the book geeks, right?

Right?

Friday is going to be a bright, bookish day. You are going to meet friends you have only talked with online for the first time, make new acquaintances, dwell in the world of book blogging all day. Maybe you can steal a few moments at the BEA convention floor.

I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Don’t forgot Who goes before you, surrounding you with His love.

Sincerely,

Me (or You, if you want to be more accurate)

Don’t think so much, Monica is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Home schooling.

House keeping.

Church commitments.

Blogging.

Email, Facebook, Twitter, Ning groups, LOST (yeah! it’s back.)

With all of these good (and maybe not so good) things to do and occupy our time, how do you find the time and energy to read?

Seriously! I want to know. Because I’m having a hard time keeping up.

I remember back to my lazy college days of when I had an abundance of free time to just ignore the outside world and do nothing but read to my heart’s content. O, the amount of pages I could fly through! Of course, back then I was without household to manage, sans children and husband. I had oodles of free-reading time.

Life was lazy from one wonderful book to the next. Now, not so much.

My to-be-read book pile gets larger. My heart wants to read more. Yet daily life. . . and I like reading blogs, Twitter, and my love for LOST.

So.

How do you fit it all in? All the books, yet still manage to life a balanced life?

Finding time to read is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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I’m writing down my goals for the new year.

Goals are good. I like goals. No, not soccer goals, although those are nifty too. I speak of those promises we make to ourselves, sending them out into the universe, like I am right now with this lofty blog post, or hold them close, like a secret.

Without an end in mind we are destined to stumble throughout life without purpose or direction. Unless you are great at last minute decisions (I’m not), have enormous luck (don’t believe in it), or could care less about how your life turns out (are you dead or lazy?), you need goals.

My goals for the year 2010:

1. In reading:

More books, magazines and newspapers of good quality that can stretch me, get me thinking. Thinking is always good too. I happen to be a big fan of thinking. I’m joining a few online book challenges this year (more about that in the next few days.)

I’d like to start reading news magazines again – I used to absorb news magazines. This was before I had babies, otherwise known as When I Had Free Time. It’s  taken me a long time to realize I miss those magazines. I won’t be subscribing, just reading what I can online or at the library or what I can beg, borrow or steal from friends. That might be another good goal for the coming year: find friends without kids that have free time to subscribe to news magazines.

2. In home education:

I’d like to see both boys flourish in their reading confidence. Actually, I’m sure this is the year both boys – 10 and fast approaching 8 – will come into their own with reading skills. (Please, Lord, make it so!) Adding to our home school reference library is another desire. Music, audio books, more how-to-manuals.

3. For spiritual life:

To attend our church’s womens’ retreat in June. Can you believe I’ve only attended one retreat in my entire adult life? My husband has attended at least 5,000 five. To memorize more scripture. To not let anything else crowd out that hunger for the things of God. To not view prayer or Bible reading as  a chore required to make me a better believer; I never want to make studying just another item on my to-do list.

4. Of personal nature:

This is going to be tough – less Twitter, Facebook, and message boards. If I’m going read more books and news, I’ve got to make time for it.  Blogging will continue when I have something of interest to share. I had a nice exercise routine of three times a week last summer; I need to resume that schedule. Still working on the patience. Could use more of that attribute. What mother can’t?

This is the part when I try to convince myself this list is easy. On January 1 all these grand ideas look easy, but by February or March. . . old habits, old self wants to win the day. I’ve made a few of these goals before 2010.

Perhaps this is the year, this is the time to make it happen.

By God’s grace.

In these last hours of 2009 is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Welcome, all non-Blogher conference women bloggers. Just because we’re not in Chicago doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. And our way of doing the meet-and-greet will be way less expensive. No overpriced hotel, no high priced airfare. No need to spend gobs of cash on new shoes, outfits, etc. to impress people you shouldn’t be worried about trying to impress.

Am I the only one not at Blogher because the economy tanked? Gee whiz, people…

Anyway, enough about all that. Lets’ get down to the business of Getting to Know Monica (that’s me.)

I’m me – Monica Brand. I like to write pretty things. Like this.  I write from my gut. This is a good example. My videos are mostly fun, sometimes serious. I homeschool/unschool my four kids. I live in the wilds of New Jersey (Read: almost in PA, the neighbors have cows and horses. Are you surprised?) I occasionally get all opinionated (that’s the Jersey girl in me. *wink*) What else? I love Twitter way too much (I’m on a Twitter/Facebook fast till Monday. I miss my tweet peeps, but I’m sticking to my commitment. Tweet you soon, friends!)

I give away books – that’s my party favor for the Blog Hop, I’ll tell you more about that in  minute.

Ummm. Still reading? I’ll type faster.

I’m one of those Jesus people. You may be down with that. Heh.

Oh! Coffee. I loves me my coffee. Doc (that’s the nickname I’ve given my hubs here, must protect the innocent non-blogger, no?) buys green coffee beans via the Power of the Internets, roasting it up fine on my kitchen counter. Heaven in a hot mug.

Okay, I think that’s pretty much me. Thanks for coming to my humble blog, leave a comment so I can come harass visit you at yours. Grab my RSS if you like me (cause isn’t that what subscribing is all about?) or if you are interested in knowing about the book giveaways.

Like this one – A Perfect Mess by Lisa Harper. This is a lovely look at Psalms by a lady who is just full of interesting stories. Leave a comment for a chance to win.

Enjoy the rest of the Blog Hop. Special thanks and shout-outs to Robin and Jo-Lynne for doing all the heavy lifting.

Be strong and courageous,

Monica

To heck with Chicago is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Coffee and kayaking is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Are you like me? I love to see a large section of work accomplished. Dramatic “before” and “after” photos. I’ve noticed I’m totally that way with homeschooling too. I have a stack of papers from when Susan was nine. Why I still have those papers, when we don’t need to document here in New Jersey (thank you, Lord! it makes life easier) is a matter of me keeping memories in a box.

I look at that stack, weigh it in my hands. “Look at what she did.”

Same feeling today. I look at my improved porch, yard, and have that satisfied, happy sigh. “Look at what we did.”

Yes, I’ve learned nothing new regarding finding contentment. Some days are better than others; I’m still looking outward at the physical. But we won’t harp on the negative. Let’s review all Doc and I did today:

• Gutted the back porch of all the junk that was dumped there.
• Swept same back porch of dirt and rabbit poop (we let the bunnies run free there for a day while the hutch was under construction.)
• Moved all good wood scraps into basement for future use (I suspect most of it will be confiscated by A Boy for his own schemings.)
• Moved various other tools and whatnots into basement too (now the basement is more of a disaster, but at least I don’t have to look at it from my house.)
• Removed junk that had accumulated in yard just beyond back porch (antique Singer sewing machine, paint brushes, rollers, toys. Gah. Am I really admitting this on the web?)

All of that plus we took a few iced tea breaks. We work well together, Doc and I. Glad we can do that – I know some couples can’t. There might have been a couple of times when we didn’t and I think those all involved the car and a new GPS system, so that doesn’t count. Married couple + car + new technology = it doesn’t count on my blog.

A day like today – us with a pick-up truck and elbow grease – yeah, we’re good.

So sorry there are no pictures. Will someone please invent solar powered camera batteries? Actually, I’m kind of glad I have no pictures of our trash and evil pile of accumulated junk. It’s one thing to describe all of this in words, but do I really want to share the photo evidence too?

Yeah, I love all this web confessional stuff, so I probably would.

Team Brand: we work well together (which is convenient since we’re married) is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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I’ve been thinking more about it and here’s what I’ve come up with: my problem isn’t blog influence, it’s me and mothering (Or mothering and I? Umm. Not sure.)

My youngest daughter has a friend who calls me, “Lucy’s mommy.” Never Mrs. Brand or Mrs. B like I tell her to when she comes to play. It was cute at first, very preschooler speak, but the more it continues, the more it makes me want to grind my teeth. Future play dates hang in the balance because of it.

Why does it irritate me so much to be labeled by an innocent 4-year-old?

Then there was the time our Pastor referred to a woman like me as a housewife.

Again: why am I so freaked out by another label given with the best intentions.

I don’t write much here about my previous life, my existence before kiddos and homeschooling. BC (Before Children), I was a newspaper reporter and traveled to the other side of the world. I met a slew of interesting people. Nowadays, I hang out with all these people much shorter than I who all require various degrees of daily care.

Patience, Monica. They are only young for a moment, really. Then they are grown and gone.

I know it.

My head does anyway.

My heart?

Guess not.

Yet more thoughts on contentment is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Contentment. I’m not too good with all the verses telling us to be content with where we are, with what we have, who we are. I feel like I’m on a cyber surfboard on my little blogging wave. I’m doing okay. I’m in the water, the sun warm on my skin, the water salty on my lips. The surfboard so familiar to me now as I’ve been at this blogging gig for so long. My balance is good, it’s a nice rhythm.

But then I take my concentration off my own modest sized wave and look to the other surfers around me – their waves are so much bigger than mine. They are faster, bigger. People on the shoreline are impressed, clapping, pointing to her. I think to myself: Cool. I want to try riding those big waves.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

Contentment.

I’m just a mom. One step further in – I’m a homeschooling mom. My wave is scattered with a tween, a preschooler and two inbetween. It’s a day full of little people.

That mom over there on that other wave, she might have her kids in school or they’re older than mine or she only has one. Her wave is hers. That’s her blog. My wave, for what it is, a mix of family stories, homeschool reference points, book lust or just cyber goofiness, is mine.

But dang it, friends, I sure do want to catch that other wave. All those “Hey, Lord, what about me?” prayers.

So that’s where I am: struggling to learn contentment – seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever been good at it, even before blogkeeping.

***

Okay, I just reviewed what I wrote and this is the way I feel. I’m writing in my journal, that three ring notebook I keep next to the bed so I dont’ have to get out of bed to record thoughts (often, it’s the only quiet place in the house.) After breakfast… no, tween Susan cooked breakfast muffins, all I have to do is tidy up. After that, I’m going to type this up, tweak the paragraphs, and punctuation, but I’m not going to touch one word of it in order to save face. I may change the title. Right now it’s Confessions of a Christina Mommyblogger, but that sounds too sexy. Maybe some nod to surfing or contentment. Not sure yet.

So now you know why I questioned Monday as to the future survival of this blog. I don’t want to delete Paper Bridges. I want to write, post videos of my kids doing kidly things and continue to be me. But me better – content with what the Lord has given me.

Okay that’s all for now.

Surfing contentment: confessions of a Christian mommyblogger is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Looking back now, I believe that thought sent me on the path for all that happened yesterday.

That was in the morning. I kept going with my day: fed the kids lunch, corrected Math-U-See papers. Typical homeschool mom fare. Susan spilled milk, sending a lake of liquid across the table almost ruining science and math books.

By 1:30 pm, I jumped on the Dell. Tweetdeck, blogs to check. I decided to try out the online Mango program for Spanish. It was fun trying to get the accent just right, I imagined speaking Spanish to new friends at church. I even sent out a tweet about it too. Traded DMs with Tanya Dennis about the Mandarin Chinese also available.

My arm was still hurting. More thoughts of doom. What the heck is wrong with me? More computer time.

Then – the numbness shooting down my right arm, the tingling as I stood up to find my cell phone because I knew I needed to make a phone call.

911.

By now, I was scared. My heart pounded as I dialed the phone. My arm – wow, it hurt. Still numbness and tingling. Jesus, I’m scared, help me. Don’t take me yet. Too much to do, kids still so young. Joe…

So I laid on my kitchen floor answering the questions of the calm 911 operator. Lucy sat on top of me, Edmund with the goofy questions because he’s six and has no idea what it means when his mother is breathing heavily while lying on the floor. Peter, outside. Poor Susan. Scared too, because in Serious Mommy Voice I directed her to call my mom and my husband.

This is it. I can’t believe this. Jesus, help me.

Quickly there was a gathering of strangers in my kitchen. One EMT grew to several, then paramedics. All looked a bit perplexed because by this time my breathing started to return to normal, my arm felt better and I was cracking jokes. (Because that’s what I do when I feel ridiculous, with everyone looking at me. Kind of the way I felt walking down the isle to get married. Everyone’s looking at me! )

On the way to the hospital, with all the sirens and lights creating this Red Sea effect on Rt. 31, I thought of  the spilled milk and how Susan cried when I yelled at her. All that anger over an accident and protecting those stupid books.

How I wished I could go back to that moment to react differently.

You can guess the rest: the blood tests, chest x-ray, EKGs. I’m fine. No heart attack; not at risk for a heart attack either. I don’t smoke, drink, no strong family history. Medically, I’m as boring as a block of wood. By 9 pm, we were on the road home.

Diagnosis: arm pain. My diagnosis – and I feel silly admitting this after all the fuss I created yesterday – my arm fell asleep due to too much computer. I made this happen sitting at the laptop too long, combined with my knowledge of heart attack symptoms (arm pain, numbness, etc.), I freaked myself out when I felt the numbness. Calling 911 sent me into an “Oh, boy, This is serious,” hyperventilation-breathing fit.

I’m such a dork.

When I got home, Susan was still awake and I finally got to tell her what I was afraid I wasn’t going to get the chance to do. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” And she did.

Postscript: Just now, as I’m thinking how to end this story, to show you the impact of my fake heart attack and how I suspect it’s going to change me and my mothering, my four year old was scribbling on the wall with crayon.

Old me, before fake-heart attack me, would’ve yelled, pitched a good ol’ fit. The new me? Not one shout. It’s not about the books or walls, milk or crayon. It’s about people and love and forgiveness and mercy.

Hallelujah! It’s about Love.

***

Twitter and Facebook friends, much love and appreciation to you all. Often I’ve doubted what we have is true community, never again will I think that way. You proved yourselves with the retweets, replies, DMs, emails. Thank you, thank you. I look forward to the day we meet face-to-face, and if not here, with Him who has given you all to me for such a day like yesterday. Again, thank you.

My fake heart attack is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Book of Revelation. Good, meaty theology there. But I still don’t want to go to Bible study tonight and it’s nothing against John or end times prophesy.

It’s the DVDs. Not the message – the method. I’m tired of watching DVDs. Sitting, listening, listening to a lecture. I don’t want a monologue, especially one where the preacher whips it out at a rapid fire pace leaving no room for his audience to breathe.

I don’t want to go. No lecture tonight, no more non-interactive DVDs.

Give me the fellowship and back-and-forth dialog with a real person.

I feel badly for Pastor. It must be easier for him to just pop in a DVD than prepare a lesson each Wednesday. He’s okay, but I suspect he’s content to let Famous Preacher Man share all his Revelation knowledge with us.

Too bad it’s via one dimensional media.

I’d much rather go for a drive tonight; think I will. Maybe I’ll go to the mall and walk around. I can’t bear sitting tonight…

***

Postscript:

I journaled this an hour before leaving for church yesterday with all intentions of escaping after dropping off the family. Never happened. Too much guilt: “The kids and Doc are here, so I can’t just leave.” Too much fear of being judged.

Maybe you are judging me now too.

I love being at church, I love the Word, and great teaching and preaching. Being with my second family. But like I wrote above, sometimes those DVDs… I’m home all day with the kids and as much as I love Twitter and social media, I crave human interaction. You don’t get a lot of that with a DVD. No, you don’t get any interaction from a DVD.

I did stay. I listened. I learned a few things I didn’t know before. I’m thankful for all that.

Yet I can’t wait for this DVD series to be over. Maybe I’ll start praying for the player to break. You never know – perhaps the Lord is tired of it too.

Burned out on technology that teaches is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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I’m 40 years old now.

40. I’ve been mulling over this number, and what it means, all day. Like I said before, I don’t feel 40, an age I thought ancient many years ago. Now it’s just a number that comes after 39.

Part of all this reflection has to do with death, my own mortality, and what I want to do with the rest of my life, assuming I have at least another 40 years to live on this earth. Before the Lord calls me home or Jesus comes back, I’ve got a few things I want to get done.

So this is the beginning of my bucket list – you know, all the things you want to accomplish before you die.

This is what I have so far:

1. Be the best Me I can be: Christ follower, wife, mom, home schooler, obsessive blogger (ha!), etc. I realize this is a bit on the vague side; hopefully I be able to sort this out with practical steps with more thought. One thing I do know: “Not sweating the small stuff in life” is kind of where I’m going with this.

2. Write… something. The desire to write a novel has given way to a hope that I can compose something of more eternal significance. Still chewing on this too. I have ideas that I need to work out.

3. Learn Spanish. I’ve noticed more Spanish speaking folk around town and we have more in our fellowship. I’ve always been fascinated with other languages, but so far have lacked the discipline to get another language to stick. All of my Bahasa Indonesia has gone dormant. Maybe if I can accomplish Spanish, I’ll take on the Bahasa Indonesia.

That’s it as of today, Day One of 40 years. Do you have a bucket list? Please share.

Do you have a bucket list? is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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I’m also learning a lot about mercy, something I thought I had a good grasp on before becoming a mother.

As a Christ follower, I’ve experienced mercy. I sin. And then I run to Jesus. Amazingly, mercy never runs dry. There is no drought when it comes to the mercy of God. I can define mercy as unearned love and forgiveness, getting love and acceptance instead of judgment and rejection. So I thought I understood.

Now as a mother surrounded by imperfect children daily, I see how much more there is know: how to give mercy freely; it’s importance in raising and leading children. How my children need it. And me too.

This unorganized, non-domestic, fiery-tempered home schooling mommy craves mercy. I need it from the Lord, my husband, my kids and from those in the home schooling community.

I’ve been home schooling long enough to have a wide experience with various homeschooling moms, and from what I can see, there is not much mercy for a woman like me, one of the muddled ones. My sister in Christ, and like-minded home schooling mom, she can be harsh. Legalistic, even. She doesn’t give much room for error. The believer mom who juggles it all with a smile, never missing a deadline, never forgetting to do that little thing that I’m so good at letting get buried under a paper mountain on my desk.

I bet I drive her nuts.

I pray to Jesus, “I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

I say to my kids, “Mom screwed up. I’m sorry. Can you forget my mistake?”

Will you show me mercy?

And this is what I want to say to my home schooling mother acquaintances, these women in my life that will not bend, refusing to overlook my personality quirks.

I screwed up. I’m sorry.

Will you show me mercy?

Homeschooling mom, meet my friend, Mercy is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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New Jersey Moms Blog doesn’t get a lot of comments, so please leave one, especially if you have something of interest to contribute. And I suspect you do. Thanks, gang. Enjoy your day with your non-ducks!

Children are not ducklings is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Because tonight I am – discouraged, frustrated and jaded.

Worn out.

Worn down.

Like this yellow paint.

I’m weary, and work still needs doing.

This is what I found on Flickr when I looked for an image of WEARY is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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My Irish twin brother, a mere 362 days older than I, couldn’t pronounce my name. As a toddler he could manage the middle “nic” sound okay; but all those blends to string together proved too difficult. (So I’ve been told. It’s not like I actually remember any of this, I was in diapers.)

Monica morphed into Nic, then expanded into Nikki. And so it came to pass, I would be Nikki – forever and ever,  Amen.

I loved the name Nikki, it fit my personality. A Nikki played with mud pies. Monica did not. Nikki caught crayfish, lighting bugs and rode her bike as it was The Black across the sand. Brave Nikki captured garter snakes. A girl named Monica, what would she do? Certainly not all the rough and tumble things I loved as a child. Maybe she played with dolls and sat primly with her hands folded in her lap. I had a T-shirt with the words “Buzz Off” imprinted on the front. Would a Monica wear such a hip, fun t-shirt?

Worse still: I suspected a Monica would like pink.

Everyone at home called me Nikki, in the neighborhood I went by Nikki. By fifth grade, desire triumphed over shyness. I began signing my preferred moniker on my school papers, my teachers began calling me Nikki, and much to my delight, I was Nikki everywhere, all the time.

Never will I go by the name of Monica, I proclaimed to my mother.

No problem. I like Nikki just fine. If she protested, I don’t recall it. If it bothered her, my hatred for the name she carefully chose for her firstborn daughter, she hid it well.

All through middle school I was Nikki. Freshman year, sophomore year of high school. I was still Nikki.

I don’t recall when the shift began. One day, sometime junior year, I simply wanted to be Monica. I no longer played in the mud (unless you count a sloppy football field with the marching band), I didn’t pretend the car was a horse and I didn’t mind wearing a skirt. I wore make-up. Tomboy Nikki discovered boys. What boy would take a Nikki to Prom?

Riding in the car with my mother about that time, we talked of my desire to be rid of my nickname. (I think we were on the way to the orthodontist. By sophomore year I had a mouthful of metal. Remember those tiny rubber bands that popped out of your mouth if not on tight?)

Do you like the name Monica now?

It’s okay, I guess.

You can change it if you want to. I’ll take you to the courthouse, we’ll pay the money if it means that much to you.

It’s not everyday your mother gives you an opportunity to chose your own name. The name I loved seemed more me: classic in style, but easily shortened to a more adult nickname. I signed my perfect new name on an imaginary paper in my mind.

Obviously, I’m still Monica today. We came to a truce, Monica and I. The bizarre fantasy Monica never made me wear pink; the inner Nikki maintained her crayfish catching abilities. I’m a true combination of both lady and free spirit girl feeling comfortable in both sneakers and heels.

While in the midst of my hatred for the name Monica, I never thought of it’s meaning, only how I despised a girl who never existed. It took me a long time to see the silliness of that thinking.

Today, as a wife, mother and Christian, I see the wisdom in the name my mother selected.

Not only is my name Monica, but I am a Monica.

In Latin, Monica means adviser. I advise my children daily, in their decisions, in their play and how to act like little ladies and gentlemen.

I advise Doc as needed.

I advise my family when they ask for my help. My church family, homeschooling community in which I am in leadership – Lord willing I am able to give advice and help when called upon to do so.

My name is Monica, not because it was given to me, but because it’s who I was created to be. And I like it.

To be known by my name is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Oh. My.

Delicious.

Not that it’s going to happen. I’m over an hour from The City and there are way more important things we need to spend our money on, like the house mortgage, and the Kitchen Construction. And this home schooling commitment is rather time consuming, so I have no free time for the luxury of bonus education right now.

Even so. When these glossy cards find their way onto my kitchen table, mixed in with bills, home school supply catalogs and magazines, I wonder…

What would it be like to be a student again? What would I study if given the chance?

How about you, Mom-reader?

Do you dream of continuing your education?

The creative writing class looks good is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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For those of you unfamiliar with my ways, let me confess to you…

I have a fondness for fiction books. No, fondness isn’t the right word. All-consuming passion is much better. I love reading a good page-turner, I crave good plot like fine chocolate. I must have it; life wouldn’t be the same without literary fiction.

Once I’m drawn into an imaginary world, I don’t leave easily. My real life during that time? I admit it suffers. Cleaning, cooking, all domestic responsibilities – I do the minimal. All home education activities, I do, yet I long to escape into my book, and I hurry the kiddos along, Not good for teaching long division. Interactions with Doc? Also not helped by book lust.

To get myself disciplined in this area, I’ve devised a simple plan.

Monday through Thursday: no fiction books. Since I have no control, and wife/mommy duties are viewed as a hindrance to my reading, I’m banning myself from fiction early in the week. (Books like To Kill a Mockingbird, read in only three days, or A Kite Runner. If memory serves me right, I read that in less than 24 hours. See why I need a schedule?)

A non-fiction doesn’t hold the same mesmerizing power, so it’s permitted. The Bible, obviously, I should be reading everyday. Anything that could begin with “Once upon a time…” is a NO.

Friday through Sunday will be reserved for fiction. I’m giving myself permission to let the kids run naked in the streets because I’m behind on laundry, serve cereal for dinner because I forgot the defrost dinner due to my reading, and basically ignore the world around me. All so I can indulge my love for great fiction. I could seriously read one book a weekend this way, all without feeling like I should’ve done something more productive.

I think it’s a good plan. I do well with routine and as long as I don’t start a new book late on a Sunday night, I should be able to do this.

Do you do need to limit your book reading time or are you more disciplined than I?

Book crazy (or just plain crazy?) is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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It’s funny how kids wreck your idea of how things should be.

Two of my children this weekend impressed me with their sudden grown-up like behavior. Another is still young enough to be considered In-Training Mode.

And the last one, old enough to know what is expected?

Disrespectful. Disobedient.

My reaction?

Anger. Frustration. Embarrassment.

And I know what the real problem is… my pride.

I worry how I look in public.

I hate looking like a bad mom.

I despise not having it all together, undone by a Little Person in my own tribe.

Am I the only mother who needs to let go of the idea of perfection and control?

I suspect I’m not.

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I don’t recall praying to practice patience is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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Survivor couldn’t be much different than what I do now here in rural New Jersey. Every day as a home schooling mom it’s survival. Getting the kids to do a math lesson without complaint, climbing the laundry mountain, cooking dinner that picky eaters will consume and still keeping the grown ups content.

Wow. I’m really fond of the letter C tonight.

I’d take the cash (of course!) if I won, but I’m more interested in bragging rights. How cool would it be for this almost-40 mom to take on the wilderness and scheming of the other players? It’s the ultimate camping adventure.

Do you like reality TV?

I am a Survivor is a post from: Paper Bridges, © 2005-2010 Monica Brand

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