The reason why I write

I knew when I married my husband, that he wanted to be a professional firefighter. That was the big dream. I was fine with that because I knew it would make him happy, which in turn would make me happy. It took a couple of years to realize this dream, but eventually he got his job. He loved it. He really, really did. Our life was going to be good. We'd stay in the 'Ham and live on some land that my parents were thrilled to hand over--25 acres with a waterfall and an old mill. Really, life was good.

I was pregnant with our third child and had driven to Richmond where Bryan would meet me for my OB appointment. On the way home, since we were in separate cars, we used walkie-talkies to pass the time. I remember it like it was a week ago. You have to understand my husband, he's quiet and thoughful and likes to keep his thoughts in his own head. So I was just cruising up the road when I hear the walkie-talkie crackle and him say, "I think I want to be a vet."

It took me a few seconds to realize what I'd just heard. Then I said, "That's like four years of Veterinary school, and you hate school?"

"I know, but I can't stop think about the example it will set for our kids. To show them that with hard work they can be anything they want to be."

It's true. What a great legacy to leave to our children. This was something Bryan really wanted, so we went for it.

But over and over I could see the doubt in people's eyes. Some of them our own family members. Bryan be a doctor of something? Whatever. He got to the point where he didn't want anyone to know, and I thought--absolutely not. So I convinced him not to give a flying-flip what other people think, and eventually he caught on to my vision. We were going to vet school, and we didn't care what anyone else thought. Can you picture my shoulders thrown back and my in-your-face expression?

He had to take lots of prerequisities, the GRE and volunteer hundreds, and in some cases, thousands of hours before he could apply. Oh, and then the wait to get in. It was tortorous. I remember the morning we got the phone call. My dad was at our house, just checking in to see if we'd all made it through the night without dying. But he'd missed Bryan who'd already run out to check on the cows. The phone rings and my dad snaps it up. It gets real silent and then he turns and grins the biggest grin you have ever seen. Then he says, "Do you have a spot for him?"

And I knew exactly who was on the other end of the phone. It was the Veterinary Admissions office. My head snapped up and the room went silent. I ran over and took the phone away from my dad. It was the secretary and she needed to talk to Bryan. I gave her his cell number, hung up, and jumped on the four wheeler. And when I found him out there in the field he was grinning the biggest grin I'd ever seen.

He was getting his dream. He was going to be a veterinarian.

Last May I couldn't help but wipe a tear away when he walked into Lane Stadium at Virginia Tech dressed in his grey and black robes. Here was a guy who'd never even wanted to go to college. His parent's never really pushed him to go, and not only that, he wasn't a very good reader when we got married. And his spelling! Atrocious. It took all my self restraint not to correct everything he wrote. 

Now we call him Dr. Auten and he can spell words I can't begin to pronounce.

Last night I went to see Secretariat with some of my friends from church. I'd heard all the wonderful reviews, but all I knew is it was about a famous race horse who'd won the Triple Crown. Whatever that is. But you know? It's about so, so much more. Mostly it's about Penny Chenery Tweedy, Secretariat's owner, who, against all odds and without the backing of her brother or her own husband, took a chance and threw her heart into what she believed was the right thing to do. What were the stakes if she failed? She'd lose her family farm, the horses, and I'm sure a lot of her dignity. I won't tell you the end, but I will say this--it is spectacular and jaw dropping.

But the end wasn't my favorite part of the movie. My favorite scene is when Secretariat is racing the Preakness. It isn't filmed on location with Penny watching. It's shown through the eyes of her husband and her children. They are watching the race from home in Colorado. Through the movie I'd been disappointed over and over by this husband's lack of faith in this woman. But this was the scene I was waiting for. The husband is sitting at his desk, I think too afraid to show that he really wants this horse to win, because what if it doesn't. He'll look a fool for being married to this ridiculous housewife who thinks she can race horses. Anyway, the husband is sitting at his desk at the back of the room. The four kids are on their knees, with a bowl of popcorn just watching. As Secretariat comes from behind and begins passing the other horses you watch the husband get tense and lean in more and  more until finally he's standing up muttering, "Do it. Do it." And then of course, Secretariat wins. In that moment it's all pretty clear. This 1970's house wife has done the impossible. Her kids have learned from her that anyone, even a housewife, can do the unthinkable.

And I'm sitting in the theater wiping my eyes from that short little scene. Not because the horse won the race, but because I am her and she is me. I am Penney Chenery Tweedy. I want to show my kids that a housewife can do the unthinkable.

I want them to know that they should dream big and then work for those dreams, just like their dad, just like Penney Tweedy.

Just like me.

The difference between now and then

My kids love to climb up in my king sized bed at night and listen to me read whatever I wrote that day while they were at school. I debated today on whether I should share what I'd written. It was slightly risque. In my story a teenage boy spreads a rumor that a teenage girl went skinny dipping with another teenage boy. It's all hogwash and meant to be very hurtful, as in a malicious rumor. As in, not true.

But I wondered if I should skip it--if I would be a horrible, horrible mother for reading the word 'skinnydip' to my kids. (Actually it's two words, but who's counting?)

Here's what I concluded: Oldest son would already know what it was as he was educated on all things sex by his best friend back in the third grade. I know. My stomach still knots when I think about it. I didn't give him 'the talk' early enough apparently. 'Cuz I should have known he would need it that early, right? Anyway, I figured he could handle 'skinny dip.' I mean, come on, he is in fifth grade now.

Oldest Daughter is so sweet and naive that she would probably just smile and not care that she didn't know what the word meant.

And youngest son would definitely not have a clue.

Okay. So I went ahead and included the dreaded word. I know you're dying to know what happened, so I'm going to tell you.

Does oldest son say anything when I read the word? Nope. Oldest Daughter? Nope. She reacted just as I thought she would.

Here's what did happen. My youngest son--my sweet little first grader--starts giggling, raises his hand like he's at school and bounces up and down. "I know! I know what skinny dipping is." Like I'd asked for a definition.

So I lean back and look at him like there. is. no. way. And then he says, "It's when two people get naked and swim around together."

Talk about a jaw dropping moment.

Want to know the first time I realized boys and girls even wanted to touch each other anywhere inappropriate? When my best friend told me she went into a closet with her boyfriend and let him touch her. I was horrified! Grossed out! Completely and utterly mortified that she'd told me that, or worse that she'd seemed to enjoy it.

I was in seventh grade.

And I remember thinking how young we were, that we were kids. I couldn't even be her friend anymore after that.

I don't have anything enlightening or earth-shaking to share here. I am truly in awe.

First grade.

So I did the only thing I could do. I giggled with him, gave him a noogie and kept on reading.

I paid how much for that?

I am not a prejudice person. I'm really not. I just had to clarify that before I went on.

Because...

We went to the circus for FHE on Monday. For those of you that don't know what FHE is, let me explain. As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, we take Monday night every week to spend time with our families--play games, have a lesson, a treat, sing a song, etc. It's really fun most of the time. And I mean most. Sometimes my kids wrestle during the prayer and get in trouble. Or Second Son likes to draw pictures in the air when he's supposed to be conducting the opening song. This greatly irritates his Older Brother and then they get into a talking fight, which leaves them tied to each other with duct tape. So. Mostly fun.

This past Monday, Husband got the brilliant idea that we should go to the circus for FHE. The kids each had a free ticket and it would be fun, right? I'll be honest--I didn't really want to go, but when I found out that never in his 33 years of life had Husband ever been to the circus (and it was his idea) that we should probably go. Everyone should go to the circus at least once, right?

As we drove to the big city a half hour away, I spent that time reminiscing about when I went to the circus for my tenth birthday. It was the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus at the Richmond Coliseum. There were lion tamers and tight rope walkers and clowns, and cotton candy. Loads of fun, right? Only I'm not sure what to expect with a title like Kazim Shrine Circus. Maybe it's mideastern. But hey, I like Persian rugs and The Prince of Persia, so this should be fun.

Well, first we get to the ticket window and hand over our four free kid tickets. So we only have to pay for Husband and me. The lady says, "That'll be thirty two dollars," and I have to scoop my jaw up off the cement floor. Yeah. That would explain the free kid tickets. It's a scam, people! Don't fall for it. But I pay it and off we go.

The first clue that this is no Ringling Bros is when the Lion Tamer doesn't actually do anything with the lions. Seriously. All they did was step onto a stool and step off again. L.T. would move the stool and then the lion would step back on and back off. Move the stool and repeat. I'm kicking myself for leaving the camera in the car because this guy was unbelievable. Really. HE was the show. Not the lions. He was mid-forties, had on black slicker pants, no shirt and blond fuzzy mullet hair from the eighties. Yes, this was clearly his back up job after a part with Def Lepard fell through. Obviously, no one had told him that headbanging in the middle of bunch of sleepy lions did not make him cool or that in 2010 he was simply pathetic and he should give it up. His big finale? He grabbed the cage, jumped up on the bar, shook it as hard as he could as his mullet flung wildly and he screamed like a gorilla. Needless to say our eyebrows were all cocked in astonishment.


My cute Second Son looked around and sees that probably half the kids there have these cool glow in the dark light sabers and asks if he can have one. I warn him that the price would be exorbitant, but we asked the concession worker anyway. Sure enough--fifteen dollars. I felt like the Evil Mom of the Century when I told him we couldn't buy that. I mean, obviously I'm not a good mom since all the other mommies had bought them for their kids.

But I did cave and buy a four dollar bag of cotton candy. For all four of my kids to share. We still eat beans and rice, people! Remember that. One day it won't be so. I hope. But for now, that's just the way it is.

At this point though, I'm beginning to realize this isn't even a show that's been cooked up in the U-S of A. Want to know how I figured that out? Here comes a lady wearing a caberet outfit. Seriously, immodest. It only took two seconds to realize this lady wasn't just Spanish. She was Mexican. And somebody had taught her how to do a fake American announcer voice. It was seriously the cheesiest thing ever. But she had the kids yelling so it was all good.

Actually everything was all good. Until the glorified pole dancers came out. I kid you not. It was scandalous. Somebody should let these people know this is NOT how we do it here in America. Oldest son slid down in the seat and hid his eyes under his coat. Husband was laughing as I shot him dirty looks. Second son just watched in awe. Thank goodness he's only six. And then my Oldest daughter, here's what she says, "Mom, they're so beautiful."

Shudder.

I finally realize what the Kazim Shriner bit was all about when I see bunches of old guys sporting bedazzled shriner hats, watching the pole dancers spin around their ropes. This whole thing is a con.

Finally during intermission Husband runs to the car to grab the camera. He comes back in and we see that the kids can ride an elephant. Yes, you heard me right! An Elephant! Of course, being the cheapo that I am, I thought it would be free. Wrong. But I paid up--ten dollars a kid, because how many chances do you get to ride a real live elephant?

The elephant walked around the tiny ring twice and the ride was over. It lasted maybe three minutes. Once again I was scooping my jaw off the ground. But hey, now the kids can say they rode an elephant.

The second half of the show lasted about twenty whole minutes and was very anticlimactic. Except for the part where the pole dancers came out again. Want to see a pic? Sure you do. These pictures are of the second set of pole dancers, which you will thank me for since the first set had their fannies hanging out. At least these girls were covered. Oh, and what is up with all the bright colors. Most be a spanish thing.

So we went to the circus. We laughed our heads off, though I don't think the performers intended to be funny. We oohed and ahhed and seriously thought we were going to see someone crash to their deaths, and we educated our children, in some ways we would rather not have.

We spend 32 dollars to get in. $ 4 on cotton candy. $20 on two elephant rides. And $7.50 on ice cream at Sonic afterward.

Watching Second Son break out into full on dance mode when they played the song, "Who Let the Dogs Out."

Priceless, and completely worth every penny.

I have nothing against people south of the border. Their beaches are warm and beautiful, their silver cheap and their food heavenly, but I'll tell you something--if those pole dancers had come out a third time...I would have had to pull out my vegetable peeler!

PS-I was going to share more pictures but my computer apparently only accepts those of questionable nature. All the ones of my kids smiling or my husband glaring at me won't upload. Oh well, the girls of Kazim and Jose's High Flying Flashy Circus will have to suffice. Happy Day All!

4 Things

I saw this over on Bloggin' Bout Books--a great book blog by an LDS girl named Susan. I mean, hey, how can i not like an LDS girl named Susan who blogs about books. It's just not possible. Not to mention that I almost always agree with her opinion on the reviews she gives. 


She didn't tag anyone specifically but I thought it would be fun to do this anyway. Don't worry, i won't tag anyone. I'm not much of a chain-email/letter/blogger kind of girl. That's just not my thing, but if you want to, feel free to comment on your favorites in my comment section. I'd love to hear them.


Here goes:




4 Things In My Handbag/Backpack/Briefcase:

--Regal Crown Club card so I can get points toward my next free movie, soda, popcorn or box of candy. I've left it home without it before when I head out for girl's night and I spend the first twenty minutes of the movie kicking myself.

--Gum, because I don't feel fully dressed unless I know it's ready and available.

--My keys, which are stowed in a pouch and zipped, because I am one of those people who loses my keys at any given day/time/moment. 

--Way too much change which weighs me down.

4 Favorite Things In My Bedroom:

--My memory foam King Sized bed. We had a regular pillow top queen until a few years ago when I talked Bryan into a new one. I was waking up daily with a back ache.  Whenever anyone asks, I tell them this is THE BEST thing we've ever done for our marriage. We can snuggle, or we can have plenty of room to ourselves. I feel like a queen when I go to bed at night.

--The bedding I bought on sale from Macy's to go on my king sized bed. It's tan and pink and yes, my husband doesn't mind a bit. This bedding also makes me feel like royalty.

--The view from my bedroom window. Whether I'm watching, my kids play, mist lift off the ground on the farm beyond our fence, or fireflies blink across the lawn, I can often be found sighing at the view through my bedroom window.

--My husband. Yes, I often find him in the bedroom and I don't mean that in dirty way. I love to wrap my feet around his calves at night or just reach over and know he is there. 

4 Things On My Desk:

--The only thing on my desk is my computer. But I love my computer because that's where all my stories are stowed.

4 Things I've Always Wanted To Do (but haven't yet):

--Get published.

--Go to Jerusalem and walk in many of the places the Savior walked, but sadly with the way things are now, I don't know that this will happen in my lifetime.

--Live in a home that my husband built. I hope this one will happen very soon. 

--Serve a mission.

4 Things I Enjoy Very Much At The Moment:

--Up until today, I was enjoying my See's candy that my friend C. from Las Vegas sent me. Unfortunately, my husband and I savored the last Brown Sugar and Bordeaux this afternoon.  But I'm still enjoying the sentiment behind her kind gesture. That will last for a very, very long time.

--The lack of worry I feel over the fact that I have no idea what my writing future holds. I should be freaking out more that I can't get my brain to work, that I don't know if this publisher will be interested in my writing, but I feel kind of numb to it all. Like a girl who's been dumped and is too weary yet relieved to look for another relationship. 

--My toddler's rapidly growing ability to form sentences. Today her dad put her dress on her for church and then told her that she looked pretty and she simply replied, "Thank you, Daddy." Her new favorite thing to do is rip her clothes off, smack her bum and say, "I naked, Mommy. I naked." I know i should nip this in the bud (especially since she tried to strip at the soccer game this weekend) but it's too stinking cute. 

--That my heart feels like it's going to bust wide open every time I think of my mom or my Savior.

--I'm putting a fifth here since I only had one for my desk (see above)--I'm riding on this wave of excitement as I watch Dos get the dues he justly deserves with his writing. His book has been sent to publishers (via his agent). Last week he was compared to Tom Clancy. Tom Clancy!!! I think he's feeling humbled and for that, I love him even more.

4 Songs I Can't Get Out of My Head:

- Carol of the Bells-yes my kids already want to listen to Christmas music.

- Love story by Taylor Swift. We listen to her way too often. And i just got done watching Letters to Juliet

- Come thou fount of Every Blessing--Jessi Clark Funke? 

- Follow the Prophet--man, i hope my primary kids can pull this off for the presentation in two weeks.

4 Things You Don't Know About Me:

- I love to sing loudly in the car and/or blast my music. Embarrasingly, it's usually something religious or country. I'm not cool like that.

-I have a lead foot and constantly have to remind myself to slow down and not be in so much of a hurry.

-I actually like to speak in church and to teach. I don't just not mind it, I like it.  I love making something click for someone else. It's probably one of my most favorite things in the world.  But only if I have the Spirit with me.  

-I do not like for someone to ask me who my BFF is. I actually hate this practice we have of needing to have one friend that we call a BFF or a bestie. I despise exclusion and feel that this is just a way of excluding people while we try to make ourselves feel special. It's very fifth grade. I like to think I'm beyond that sort of thing and feel a little blown over when I see women my age calling someone their BFF.  Even if they have one, I do not feel that it's something that should be flaunted. I have my friends and many of them are dear to my heart, each for different reasons.  But I also know that throughout my life I will make many more, so how can someone be my best forever friend. I don't know what's coming. Stepping off my soapbox now.

4 Bloggers I'm Tagging:

- Nah, I'm not doing this, but would love if you would let me know if you do this on your blog so I can see your answers.

I'll post again soon. This is just to tide you over. Have a Happy Monday!

A time to mourn

Apparently y'all are afraid of kissing just like you were back in third grade. What else can I deduce from the lack of first kiss responses that I got on my last post. Bravo to Toni, Becky, and Shannon who were brave enough to share, or at least comment. I'm glad I didn't scare at least three people off.

I have a confession to make: I know a lot of people read this blog. Well, a lot more than I suspected until I got Google Analytics. So why is it that fifty people a day want to read about kissing but only three people over the weekend wanted to talk about it with me? It's too risque, you say? I should be excommunicated for blabbing such things over the internet, you say?

Well, fine. I'll tell you a little bedtime story to lull you into your G rated dreams.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who wanted to be a writer. Her three oldest children were finally old enough to go to all day school. Only one child remained at home and that child was an angel. The angel baby slept three hours every day and was compliant and happy to do so, thus leaving the Writer with much time to craft her stories into perfection.

Until one fateful day, when the toddler woke up and BAM!--she was a big girl. (Though this may be fact, the Writer is still in denial and so the Big Girl will be referred to as Toddler anyway) When the Writer went Visiting Teaching the toddler played quietly. But we all know that a quiet toddler is one of the most dangerous things there is. And sure enough, the toddler was discovered to have painted her entire body in bright red nail polish. Lips, cheeks, hair, shirt, pants, fingers, teeth and all. Yes, she did.

It was an omen. The writer just didn't know it at the time.

On the way home, the toddler fell asleep in the car. The Writer carefully carried her sweet angel up the stairs and laid her in her crib. And suddenly, the toddler's eyes flew wide open. The Writer scampered out of the room with the hopes that her toddler would fall back asleep. Then the Writer snuck downstairs to write.

She was just getting into her groove when suddenly it felt like someone was in the room. But that was impossible, or was it? The Writer turned and screamed bloody murder, for standing there right next to her, was the Angel turned Demon toddler. It appeared that in one day the toddler had learned to unscrew nail polish, climb out of her crib, open her door and scare the tar out of her mother.

Oh, and she was poopy.

And now that Writer is crying for the three hour nap that very well may be a thing of the past.

The End.

Sharing the butterflies

I had an ongoing email conversation yesterday with my cousin E. who lives in Utah. I was asking her to give me the dirt on her nieces--two girls that I adore, who just happen to have crushes on some sweet boys. Or so I hear.

So E says, "sometimes i live vicariously through their boy crushes, haha, its just fun to remember how that felt...i totally love [my husband], but the butterflies were fun." I have to admit, this is the reason I LOVE to write Young adult romance stuff. Let's face it--there is nothing quit like that first kiss/falling in love feeling.

As a rule, I don't watch old reruns of Mad About You. Do you guys remember that show? It had Helen Hunt, and I can't remember the guy's name. Anyway, a long time ago when I lived on that farm you see at the top of my blog, I remember that I watched a rerun of this show because out where we lived you only got one t.v. station clearly. I must have been bored. Anyway, the man and the woman on the show get into a disagreement about how you can't top a first kiss. Like even if you're crazy in love with your spouse--ten years down the road--the kissing just isn't as fantastic as that very first time. So they try to reenact the first kiss. It's really passionate and you're wondering if it's as good for them as it was the first time. And when it's over, they both look at each other deadpan and say, "Nah, it's just not the same." And then they roll over and go to sleep.

My point--you only get one chance for the first kiss with that guy you've been in love with for half your life, or maybe just a week. But either way, you dream about that kiss about a hundred times before it happens and then when it does happen it's toe curling, finger tingling, heart pounding, AMAZING.

Yeah, that's why I write YA. It's all about the kissing. Seriously, when I write a story, the kissing is the first scene that gets written in my head. If there's going to be more than one kiss, those scenes are mentalized next. And everything in between is just the stuff you have to write to get you to the kissing. It's like a reward for all my hard work. I'm not joking. I'm that shallow.

So I thought I'd share my two favorite kissing scenes that I've written.

This first one is from my book Putting Up Stars (the book I'm trying to get published right now).

A little background:

Sarah has been in love with her brother's best friend since the very second she laid eyes on him when she was ten. He's a good boy and is trying to go by The For Strength of Youth pamphlet. He likes Sarah but he never does anything about it because he knows it's going to get pretty heavy if he does. As a matter of fact, not only does he not act on these feelings, he pretends to ignore her most of the time because he really doesn't know how else to stay away from her. But finally, she pushes him over the edge when she goes out with a guy that he really, really, really, really dislikes. Leading up to this--they're outside of a restaurant where they--including Sarah and her date with the boy Ethan loathes--have just finished dinner. Sarah is about to leave with this guy and Ethan is trying to stop her. Sarah's date is waiting in the car.

Here it is:

“I’ve tried to play it cool, but I can’t do it any more.” His eyes were intense. “I love you, Sarah. And you love me, too. Don’t you?”


My eyes went wide. I couldn’t even process that he’d just told me the one thing I’d wanted to hear for so long. It didn’t feel real. I stared at him for a second, pressed as flat to the wall as I could get, trying to figure out what his motives were.

“No, why would you think something like that?” I asked.

“You do,” he chuckled. “I see it in your eyes.” My face turned hot.

“This is low, especially for you. I can’t believe you would do something like this. I’m your friend. You can’t just use me to get back at Justin.” I wiped at my cheeks like crazy, feeling so ridiculous and more hurt than ever before.

“Sarah, it’s true. I’m not just saying this because I don’t like Justin. I mean, I don’t like him, and seeing you with him is making me crazy. What can I do to make you believe me?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I have to go.” But I didn’t move. I stood there staring into his eyes, feeling them pull me in, wanting somehow for this to be real.

He reached out and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “I’ve loved you for so long.” He stepped closer, our faces just inches from each other. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead down against mine.

I closed my eyes too and stood there, just breathing. I wanted to believe him, but what if he went back to being indifferent tomorrow? It was going to hurt so badly. Ethan’s a good guy. He doesn’t use girls, I told myself.

I was still debating when he pressed his lips up against mine. I slid my hands up around his neck and kissed him back, giving myself permission to let my insecurities go for the moment. He encircled my waist with his strong arms, locking me in place. It was everything I’d always dreamed it would be but a hundred times better.

But then I remembered Justin, sitting in his car waiting. And what I’d heard Ethan saying in the hall about the girl he was in love with. There’s no way, I’m that girl. No way! And I remembered how awkward it was going to be tomorrow when I saw Ethan and had to pretend like this had never happened. And how bad it would hurt if I found out I was just another girl to him. I stepped back against the wall, abashed at my own reaction.

“No, I can’t…I have to go.” I knocked his arm out of the way, making him wince, and escaped.

“Sarah!” I glanced back once to see him tugging at the hair on the back of his head, an agonized look on his face.
______________________________

I love it. Of course I do. I wrote it.

Okay the next scene is from my other book Slaying Goliath (or Locked. I can't make up my mind about the title). Emily has only known Josh for a short time, but boy are they crazy about each other. Even though she's sixteen, Josh is the first boy Emily has ever really like. They are not LDS at the beginning of the book, by the way. Not that it has any bearing on this kiss. It's completely appropriate, I think.

Logistics: Emily's cousin, and Josh's buddy on the basketball team, Cole, lives across the lawn in another house, so he can see Emily from his bedroom window.

Here it is:
Josh grabbed my hand and helped me down out of the Jeep. We walked as slowly as we could up the sidewalk and onto my front porch. I think neither of us was ready for ‘good night.’ I turned to face him, still holding onto his right hand. Maybe he would kiss me now. It was perfect. The classic first kiss, on the girl’s front porch, all alone, in the dark. It was something I would never forget. He must’ve been thinking the same thing because he stepped toward me and grabbed my other hand.


“I had a really good time,” he said as he looked into my eyes.

I stepped a little closer. “Me too. A really good time.”

Over his shoulder, I caught Cole peeking through the curtain of his bedroom. And about two seconds later, one of my parents—probably my dad—flicked the light on right above us. I could feel myself blushing. Had everyone gone crazy?

Josh dropped my hands, and scratched at his temple. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Enough of this, I decided. I wanted to kiss this boy and I was pretty sure he wanted to kiss me, and it wasn’t going to happen unless I made it happen. I reached for his hand and motioned with my head for him to follow me. He grinned and we walked around to the back side of the house. Past the back deck. I smiled up at the full moon. When we reached the oak tree and the tire swing, I pulled him behind it. He leaned his back against the tree, and let his knees bend to even out our heights. We looked at each other for a few seconds, and then he reached for me. I stepped up and put my arms around his shoulders. His arms were around my waist.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” my voice trembled. I wanted him to know that so he would understand why this wasn’t going to be very good.

“Me either,” his voice cracked.

My stomach relaxed. A little.

He ran his thumb across my cheek. “Emily,” he said just before his lips pressed up against mine. I’d never heard my name sound like that before. It was magical. But I’d have to think about that later, because right then, the boy who had captured my heart was kissing me.

I thought it was wonderful, so I’m not sure why, but when it was over, our foreheads resting together, I laughed and said, “That was terrible. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t laugh. His nose brushed mine. “It was amazing,” he said.

And then he kissed me again.

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Sweet, huh?


So, if you guys want to, I would love for you to share your kissing scenes in the comments below. I know some of my writer friends have written some pretty sizzling scenes. I would love for them to share if they want to. Post the title of your book, and if it's published or going to be published soon. No pressure. Or if you are a non-writing person you can tell me about the first time you kissed your spouse. It should be lots of fun. C'mon, don't be shy.
 
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Not that I think anyone would want to, but please don't copy these. If you want to share them with friends simply direct them to my blog. Thanks!

Smarter than a teenage boy

Once again we went down the the 'Ham for the weekend.

Did I ever mention how magical that place is? I'm sure I did, but let me do so again.

That place is magical.

The last time we were there the fields were a crackly, pale brown, and when you drove over them a trail of dust floated up behind you. But this time, they'd gotten rain. And suddenly it was like visiting Ireland. Green rolling hills, against vivid blue skies. The air was crisp, and cool.

Actually, I wouldn't know what Ireland is like. I'm really just going off the movies I've seen.

Anyway. The point of this post is that I think I've decided that if I could, I would like to freeze my oldest in a cryogenic freeze mold like Han Solo--maybe until he's done with the teenage years and them let him out and press fast forward so his body can catch up to where his brain will be. Get me?

I like the age he is right now, and I have a very good reason.

This weekend Oldest Son took a friend to the farm. This is his very bestest friend in the whole world. This boy is equally as nerdy as my son with equal amounts of athleticism--which isn't much. They are two peas in a pod. They would rather sit in front of the gamecube all day, or have their shoulders glued together as they face off in a Nintendo DS battle, than look at girls, or play football, or see how far they can spit.

I worry for their teenage years. I really do. I hope I can dress my son well enough that he can at least pass for borderline cool. Not that I care about popularity, but I do care if he's teased. Oh, and his friends mother is in need of worry too. Thank goodness for my son that he is being raised by two very cool people.

But this weekend, there was no trace of nerdiness. Nope. Not down in the 'Ham, on the farm.

It was dirtbike time! When we arrived and my Husband pulled said bike out of the back of the van, Oldest Son actually took off running towards Grandma's house. I kid you not. Running.

But we rounded him and his friend up and off they went to one of those rolling green fields. Pretty much that's the end of that story. After about a half hour those two boys were hooked and it was the easiest weekend I've ever had. No one wrecked, no one fought, no one cried. (Except when we forced them to watch conference) I'd say that dirtbike was worth every blessed penny even if it never gets ridden again. Oh, but it will get ridden because those boys are addicted.

Here's the part of the story that I love. Finally, last night it was time to come home. We'd driven two cars to the farm in order to fit the bike in the back of the van.

I exiled myself to the Jetta because the gas fumey (yes, I'm well aware that is not a word) bike and the very smelly dog were in the van. No problem, we would just listen to Husband's Ipod on the way home. But that isn't happening because he informs me it's dead and he doesn't have the charger.

What in the world am I supposed to do with two tweeners on a Sunday evening all that way home? Two and a half hours in the dark. So I run back into Grandma's house scrambling for a book on tape. Remember those? My mom is just like that. No matter that you can't even buy anything to play the tapes anymore. And guess what? She actually loans me her old school boombox with tape player and all.

I'm giggling under my breathe, truly thinking these two boys are going to KILL ME! I slide Jack Weyland's Nicole into the slot and press the play button. And we're off. I cringe and wait for the protests.

But they never come. And before you know it, when I have to pause to answer a phone call, these boys are hounding me to turn the book back on. Yes, they are.

Anyone who isn't familiar with the book--I'll give you a very short synopsis. Josh is a superstar basketball player and Nicole is in the pep band. He's cool and popular. Her? Well, not so much. Of course they meet and fall in love. The book is mostly about how Josh deals with Nicole's developmentally delayed brother, Richard, but it is also about Josh and Nicole's relationship.

It's a YA book for girls, and these two boys are eating it up.

My first clue that they are paying attention is when, in the story, Josh's best friend tells Josh to do something that he knows will hurt Nicole. And Josh does it.

I hear Oldest son's friend mumble under his breath, "Idiot."

And then oldest son responds, "I know, right? Are these guys taking drugs?"

"For real. Because if you get a girl like that," his friend says this like it would be the most amazing, out of reach thing ever, "you do whatever she tells you. You don't listen to your stupid friends."

See why we should freeze them? They are so brilliant right now. If only they knew how stupid they will be in a few years. Wow. That makes them wiser than their future selves.

If only all grown men had the mentality of ten year old boys...

And then we stopped the tape to discuss Richard's disability. And we stop the tape to talk about why Nicole's family went inactive. And pretty soon I realize I am having a really in depth discussion with them.

We listened to that book all the way home. I felt bad that Oldest Son's friend didn't get to hear the end, but O.S. did. He begged for me to bring that hefty boombox into the house and plug it in so he could fall asleep listening to the end. And then he asked if he could listen to it every night.

Yep. I'm going to price one of those Han Solo freezers today.