Posts tagged ‘more than you need to know’

To heck with Chicago

By Monica Brand, 23 July, 2009, 27 Comments

Yeah, baby. I just said to heck. Heh heh. Ain’t I hip?

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.

A Perfect Mess (Why You Don't Have to Worry About Being Good Enough for God) by Lisa Harper

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

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Yet more thoughts on contentment

By Monica Brand, 11 June, 2009, No Comment

Thanks for the encouraging words this week, friends. It’s nice fantastic that so many of you would miss my contribution to the blogosphere if I were to drop out. Thank you.

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.

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Surfing contentment: confessions of a Christian mommyblogger

By Monica Brand, 5 June, 2009, 3 Comments

I keep trying to write this post explaining my thoughts about why I would consider deleting the past four years, but it’s been so difficult not to not sound like a whiner. Let me see if I can do this without the Internal Editor.

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.

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What if?

By Monica Brand, 1 June, 2009, 10 Comments

I deleted this blog.

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More numbers, still going crazy?

By Monica Brand, 19 May, 2009, 1 Comment

Day Two of our Florida vacation.

Day Two of rain.

Bummer.

The rain isn’t stopping the kids from swimming in Granny and Pop-pop’s pool. We grown-ups are more picky regarding when we swim. We did all go for a walk when the rain abated a bit. Actually, the boys rode their bikes, the rest of us walked.

Then Peter decided he was too cool to be with us, or we were walking too slow or whatever gets into the mind of a boy on a ten speed (action? adventure? warp speed rockets?) and off he went on his own.

He came back pretty humbled. Of course, he got lost. I’m glad he had enough sense to flag down a nice elderly couple after bursting into tears over his predicament.

Boys! Boys on new bicycles!

As for the drive down, it went amazingly well. No huge drama. Agatha – the name we’ve given that she-voice on the GPS -  prevented us grownups from getting lost. I drove too. For twenty minutes of the two days, but it still counts, right? (Right?! Stop laughing!)

I think that’s pretty much it for now. Peace out, Godspeed and all that. Lord willing, the rain will stop soon and I’ll get crazy funny video of the kids in their favorite element: 80 degree water.

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My fake heart attack

By Monica Brand, 5 May, 2009, 13 Comments

It all started with a pain in my right arm. A sharp little stabbing like an imaginary nurse stuck me with with a needle. I rubbed it, fussed over it. I remember thinking, “Could this be a heart attack?”

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.

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