Confessions of a SAHM

Remember in elementary school when they taught us that if we ripped a library book not to try to fix it ourselves, but to bring it to the librarian because she had "special tools" to fix them?
Guys, that was just Scotch tape.

At any rate, I guess now you know what my special tools for book repair are. Don't tell Ramsey County.

I pretty much own the place.

I just paid my library fines online. With a credit card.
If you'd like to tour the House of Des wing of the library, please give me a call to set something up.

What Harry Potter Means to Me

So...I went at midnight last night to see the last ever Harry Potter movie.
It was funny: as the movie drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel sad. Harry and I have been friends for a long time. Longer than I've known my husband. Longer than I was in high school. Or college. Longer than I've been a parent. Or known who I want to be when I grow up. We have a history.
Say what you want about the Harry Potter books, but something much bigger is going on here for me. Something bigger than the story on paper. His story has become a part of mine, simply because he's been here all this time. There are other characters that are a part of me--Kinsey Millhone, Anne Shirley, Emily of New Moon, Nancy Drew, Jose and Ursula from *One Hundred Years of Solitude*, and Clay from *Memoirs of a Demon.* I know they aren't real, but I carry them with me and always will.
As an adult, the books that have made a lasting impression on me are fewer and far between than when I was a child. A book that lives and breathes and grows with you is a rare and cherished thing.
I have felt for a long time that God shows his abounding love for me in fictional literature. He created me this way--to read and write and enjoy. I am so thankful for his intricate planning and love for me that I can find such joy in the written word and turn my face to him while doing it.
Anyway, Harry, I'll miss you. It's been a good run.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

During my freshman year of college, N'Sync went on their "No Strings Attached" tour (Bye! Bye! Bye!). At that time, I worked at a TicketMaster location.
As you can imagine, the day tickets went on sale, it was a MADHOUSE. Every time a manager handed tickets across the counter, girls screamed and cried and went crazy--and this was months in advance of the tour!
Now, it's true I had tickets to the N'Sync concert in Birmingham (we didn't get to go--it's a long story), but I had to laugh at the girls. I'm just not the kind of girl who jumps up and down screaming over a celebrity.
I have to admit, though, that when I left the movie theater today with my tickets for the 12:01am premier of Twilight tucked safely in my wallet, I felt a little giddy.

I can feel you silently judging me through the screen. Go ahead and judge. You go right ahead.

Can there be too many?

Erin: I'm reading this book right now that seems SO familiar I feel like I've read it already. But when it comes down to it, I can't figure out who "did it."
Richard: I think that probably means you've read too many books.

My Children

"Every night, I prayed for you, my special child. I prayed that your bones would be straight and your heart would be strong. But most of all, I prayed that someday you would love God."

-God Gave Us You

Less is More

Did I feel silly taking this photo at the library this afternoon?

A little.

Fifteen Books

I so enjoyed writing this list for Facebook that I decided to put it on my blog, too. I'm interested in your fifteen books! Tell me if you make a list. I'll click on over and check it out!

Instructions:
Don’t take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you’ve read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Copy the instructions into your own note, send it along to how ever many people you like, and be sure to tag the person who tagged you.

1. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez: My all time favorite. Until I read this book, I didn't know writing that weaves in and out of what I know as "real life," was allowed. Changed my life forever.

2. Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden: I read this one while I was in Scotland. I thought it was so lovely and sad. I have vivid memories of riding the train to the Isle of Skye, fully engrossed in this novel. Mayhaps I should have been looking out the window? It seems to be my lot in life to be reading when I should be paying attention.

3. The Secret of the Old Clock, a Nancy Drew Mystery by Carolyn Keene: My first mystery. It sparked a love for all things heart-pounding.

4. Moby Dick by old Herman Melville: I finished it. You have no idea what that meant for me.

5. Emily of New Moon by Lucy Maude Montgomery: I read it on the ride from Norman, Oklahoma to Hudson, Wisconsin the summer after 4th grade. That's the sort of thing that sticks with you. It's the only book I can think of that I've ever read more than once. Also, it's WAAAAAAY better than Anne of Green Gables.

6. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby: Another one I read in Scotland. My semester abroad was an unadulterated opportunity to read purely for enjoyment. I correlate High Fidelity with happiness. Ironic?

7. The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck: I got goosebumps just typing out the title. Read my senior year in high school. Sad, lovely, touching and epic.

8. My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers: The spirit of the living God dwells in Chambers' writing. Life changing. Period.

9. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare: Does a play count? Anyway, I take it back, I've read this one more than once.Tried and true, and still one of the most beautiful things I've ever read.

10. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood: Not a popular favorite of Atwood's, but I was entranced (entranced, I tell you!) from word one. The quilts, the violence, the sad, bleak future. Ah, God.

11. The Harry Potter series by JK Rowling: I am seventeen, burrowed under my covers in a new house in a new place reading by dim light.

12. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky: Teen angst. Don't judge, but I thought this book was written for ME.

13. A is for Alibi by Sue Grafton: Wait, they put sex in books? I can't believe my mom let me read this one. I distinctly remember nipples and a trailer park.

14. Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss: The beginning of my love for the written word.

15. Inside Out by Larry Crabb: I have never finished this book. I don't wanna talk about it.

This was hard. And took a lot longer than 15 minutes!

Kujo Cat

Yesterday as Jodi came in the house, she said, "Erin? Do you want me to let this cat in?"

Since my cat was on the couch with me, I said, "Um...no...?"

Apparently, this mystery cat wanted a new home. Brian and Jodi described it to me as a brown cat with a half-tail.

I said, "I think that's the cat Kitty fights with from down the street--is he really fat?"

"No, he's REALLY skinny."

"Hmmm..."

A few minutes later, Brian said, "There he is! Look out the window!"

I leaned over the hamper to look out Shirley's window and at that exact moment, a brown cat with blue eyes came FLYING at me. First his paws, then his face hit the (thankfully) closed window in one crazed fluid motion, and then he disappeared completely.

I screamed bloody murder, but to no avail. No one saw Kujo Cat try to attack me. They were all very polite, but I'm not sure they believe me, even know.

I almost died, people.

Kujo Cat spent the rest of the day trying to get in the house, but this morning he was gone.

Do you think I should contact Stephen King? Maybe let him know that Kujo is actually a cat, not a dog?

50

Happy Birthday (weekend), Mom!!!

I love you very much.

p.s. You are very good at staying out of the camera's way. This is the ONLY photo I have of you holding SJ since Christmas!

A Good Day

So far, today has been a very good day--and it's only half over!

At the Mall of America, the Christian Fiction Writers Association had a book signing. There were 120 Christian Fiction Writers there, among whom was one of my favorite authors, Tosca Lee.

Tosca is a friend of my Aunt Kris, and she and I have exchanged email on several occasions, but I had not yet had the chance to meet her. She wrote a book last year called Demon: a Memoir, that stands alone in the relatively sucky world of Christian Fiction. It was really fun to get to meet her because, like I said, she stands out. If I were to write a book, I would want it to be on the edge and make people think the way Tosca's does. Too many Christian books are sugary sweet and don't deal with real issues and spiritual battle. Tosca is not afraid to go there, which I greatly appreciate.

I have not yet written a review on Demon, but I think I will in the near future. It is up for the AFCW 2008 Book of the Year. Good luck, Tosca!

I also got to meet John B. Olson who was one of the writers for Ben Stein's Expelled that came out earlier this year in theaters. Verrrry cool.

Dear Kara Jo,

Yeah...they RE-WROTE all of The Nanny Diaries for the movie.
I never thought I'd say this, but the movie was actually a lot better than the book.
Thanks for recommending it!
Sincerely yours,
Erin

Book Reviews

Plain Truth by Jodi Picoult
Readability Factor: Easy and very engaging. Some scenes were hard to stomach as a new mother.
Predictability Factor: Either I'm too smart, or Picoult was too obvious. So well-written, however, that I invested myself in 400 pages hoping that I was wrong about "whodunnit," and the author would surprise me. Alas.
Couldn't Put it Down Factor: Five stars. (See why the ending was so disappointing?)
Recommend it? Sure. Just know this. Your first guess as to who did it is wrong. Your second guess is right.
Overall Rating: Four stars. Smart, intriguing, suspenseful and rich.


The Nanny Diaries by Emma Mclaughlin and Nicola Kraus
Readability Factor: Easy
Predictability Factor: I suppose it wasn't very predictable because I was so infuriated by the ending. Sososososo freaking mad about the ending. The romance, however, was too easy and predictable. To be honest, I'm not sure what this novel was really about. A nanny? A child? A romance? I'm still not clear.
Couldn't Put it Down Factor: Four stars (out of five).
Recommend it? Nosiree. Don't waste your freaking time. If you want to know how it ends, shoot me an email. My guess is that the movie has a much better ending than the book. How else would they even get the funding to film it? It was really THAT bad. I'm still stinging.
Overall Rating: Two stars. Cleverly-written, but an unprecidented waste of my time as someone getting closer to death every day.

Guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses.

Dear Troublesome Co-Worker,
Does my blank stare really not do it for you?
Honestly, you're not picking up on any bad vibes? None?
Please stop sitting on my desk.
Please stop touching my stuff. Yes, I have a cool iPod. I also have a cool phone.
No, my purses are not new and were not Christmas presents. Why are you paying attention?
Richard, my husband, likes my hair better down, too. I'll remember that. Thanks.
Actually, I'm not all that studious (though well-read, if I do say so myself). When you're eight and a half months pregnant, you tend to carry some extra fluid, and strangely enough, my contacts don't fit right anymore because of it.
Nope, they're not new glasses.
Um, I've only gained 23 pounds.
What do you weigh?
How's. The. Wife?
Sincerely,
Erin
p.s. I'm fine.
p.p.s. Please pass this on to Dom.


Gentle Reader, lest you be confused, Dom and the Troublesome Co-Worker are NOT the same person. That's right. These guys are my cross to bear. It's been this way my entire life. I've got socially-inept-nice-guy disease. I just can't seem to shake it.


Anyone who catches the reference to Jane Eyre wins a prize.

Why or What?

I dreamt two nights ago that one of my co-workers asked me either, "Why are you a Christian, Erin?" or "What kind of a Christian are you, Erin?"
I couldn't remember which question she asked as soon as I woke up.
Either way, it troubled me.
Oswald Chambers asks, "Has there been a point in your life which you now mark as your last day? Is there a place in your life to which you go back in memory with humility and overwhelming gratitude, so that you can honestly proclaim, 'Yes, it was then, at my 'white funeral,’ that I made an agreement with God.'"
My last day came in 1998. I had given my life to Christ in our basement on Vine Street at the age of five, and I earnestly believe that I was filled with the Holy Spirit at that time. I do not believe that I began the path to sanctification until 1998, one day in my bedroom in Alabama. The details are not important, but it happened. *Upon further thought, that's a silly thing to say. Of course, I was on the path to sanctification. I don't think I understood its importance until that day in Alabama.
Shortly thereafter, God proved his love to me by opening my eyes (literally) to a spiritual realm beyond my comprehension...and protecting me from it.
Chambers goes on to write,

When we talk about the call of God, we often forget the most important thing, namely, the nature of Him who calls [...] The call is the expression of the nature of the One who calls, and we can only recognize the call if that same nature is in us. The call of God is the expression of God’s nature, not ours. God providentially weaves the threads of His call through our lives, and only we can distinguish them. It is the threading of God’s voice directly to us over a certain concern, and it is useless to seek another person’s opinion of it.
[...]
The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God. [...] The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. And we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed.

I can see where God has woven the threads of His call through my life from the age of five, to seventeen, to my marriage at 23, and into the growth He has insisted upon in the last eight months as I prepare for my baby.
Over the past year, I've been continually asking..."Who am I in Christ?"
The bottom line? If you ask, God will answer you. It hurts, and it sucks, and it's intensely emotional, but it seems to be satisfying, comforting and RIGHT...I think. I'll let you know.

Made Me Smile

U.S. President George W. Bush (L) awards the Presidential Medal of Freedom to American novelist Harper Lee (R) in the East Room of the White House, November 5, 2007. REUTERS/Larry Downing (UNITED STATES)

This brought a smile to my face.

Today's trivia question:
Who is Harper Lee?

Don't let me down, guys.

759

I just devoured 759 pages in 5 days.
I admit, it took me a lot longer to get through this Harry Potter than the last one, which was more like 800 pages and only took two days (and that's only because I had to work), but I didn't want to miss a single word. I wanted to solve every mystery.
I did ok on the mysteries--I guessed almost accurately who would die and who wouldn't--and I am satisfied with the ending and feel it was a good end to the series.

That being said, I have Harry Potter on the brain.

Now that I'm finished with the book, she wrote, I am narrating my own story in my mind. And I can't stop, she emphasized.
I keep imagining ways to jinx troublesome co-workers, suspecting the worst of my enemies (that they, for instance, are out to destroy me), and imagining what my patronus would look like (a sleepy, fat cat).
I think I'm sick, she wrote quickly--as if she didn't get it out fast enough she may not be brave enough to try again later.


This narration thing usually wears off in a couple of days, she finished hopefully, looking over her shoulder.

Potter, ... ?

Here at work we have an internal phone system that is extremely intricate and sophisticated. By dialing 8 numbers, I can call anyone in the entire company--internationally or anything. It's sort of cool, and took a few missed calls and hang-ups to figure out.
Because everyone in the company can be reached by dialing 8 numbers, we also have caller id which can be a blessing and a curse, because I KNOW people must "miss" my calls when they don't want to talk to me because I do the same thing to them.
Oh! I'm doing it right now!
So...today when Potter, H called me, I nearly died. For a brief moment I thought Harry Potter (my literary boyfriend) was calling me (finally!) to discuss his next move against Voldemort and possibly grab some coffee or something.
You know, whatever.
A girl can dream.

Dictionary

Earlier today I had my dictionary out to look up "saccharine."
One of the girls I work with came up behind me and said, "What are you doing?"
"Nothin'," I said. "Just reading the dictionary. For fun."

She laughed as if I had said something funny.

UPDATED: Dear Aunt Kris, I'm sorry!

I'm deleting this post because I actually feel really bad for ruining the ending of the book. I hope no one read my blog.
Kandi, read it anyway.
Kris, don't tell Tosca.
Everyone, read Demon: A Memoir by Tosca Lee.
I'm still a little torn on the ending.
The book did make me look at the crucifixion of Christ in a new way, and I didn't want to put it down, but found that I had to take frequent breaks.