Top Five Ways to Know if Your Estrogen levels are Being Overpowered by Too Much Testosterone

1.       Dead “Pets” My youngest son, Greyden, found a dead fly lying on the floor (actually I pointed it out to him) and he informed me that was his pet. He took the fly and gently placed it, on his bed, under his comforter cover. I let him.

2.       Queen of My Dreams  Since my household is filled with superhero DVDs, I did a little dance when the boys came home with the movie, Tangled. Every time they ask to watch it, I agree - simply because there’s a princess in it. After we had seen it for the umpteenth time, I dreamt I was crowned queen.

3.       Alter Egos  I know the names of the alter egos of many superheroes. Hal Jordan. Anyone?

4.       Underwear Everywhere!!  The other day we had a sweet little girl, Samantha, come for a play date. About half way through our time together she asked, “Why is Greyden in his underwear?” I guess underwear is so commonplace in our household, I just think of it as their “inside clothes.” Maybe that’s why I buy them boxers, so that I can tell myself that they’re really just shorts.

5.       Gross Body Noises  My sister, Jessica, has two boys. She has taken to singing about bodily functions – “Everybody farts! Yeah! Yeah!” They say that if you sing things, children will remember them. I thought it was for things like – remembering your phone number, but I guess it works for farts too. However, the real way I know that her estrogen is being depleted is that she can make farty noises with her armpit. It’s part of their typical dinner routine – prayers, please/thank you, eat all your vegetables, and “Who can make the best farty noises?”

I HATE the Blank Page!!

It's official. I'm afraid of the blank page. Earlier this week I tore out an essay contest from my Real Simple magazine. It's been sitting on my nightstand, I look at it and convince myself I can't write to a prompt. What if I'm on the downward slope of my writing peak? It was a short climb, one month. It could happen! What if I suck? So, instead of attempting to write, I read other people's blogs. Instead of writing, I try to figure out how to post a comment on my friend's blogs. Still no success. I have great comments, sitting in my head. Instead of writing, I reread some of my other work - trying to tackle the yucky job of revising. No luck. Instead of writing, I eat chocolate chips. Yep! Chocolate chips right out of the bag. I bought them so my friend, Adrienne, could make cookies. There's enough chips left to make about three cookies. Instead of write, I clean the dirty track of the sliding glass door. No one will ever notice the detailed work I did on our door, but it got me out of writing. It's official. Today, I hate the blank page. Tomorrow? It may be love at first sight. Doubtful.

Too Many Books?! Crazy!!

Last week Mike asked me if we needed a book shelf. His query came after he saw the ever growing pile of books behind our bedroom door. Today he suggested that we might want to invest in a Kindle. I think he thinks I have too many books. Can you believe it?! He thinks there is such a thing as too many books. There is no better way to describe his implied accusation, other than CRAZY TALK!! Does he not realize the deep rooted relationship that I have with these wonderfully inanimate objects? I’m not sure that I can really even call them inanimate; they are living breathing creatures that infuse themselves into my very being. His words were almost as hurtful as if he had said we had too many children. The horror!!

So, to prove my point, I have taken inventory of my life with books. Too many books?! Not possible.

Number of:

Books behind bedroom door: 25

Books behind door that will go to back to bookshelf at school: 23

Educational magazines behind door: 7

Educational books needing to be read before end of summer: 4

Books in my red daily reading bag: 8 + 3 journals

Days the books in this bag has saved me from the dark side: 412

Number of books on my nightstand: 5 +1 journal

Books I need to return to lenders: 5

Magazines on nightstand: 10

Magazines already read, but can’t quite part with yet: 9

Books packed away in storage because there isn’t enough room in our home: 275

Books saved from storage that live safely in my armoire: 31

Journals in armoire: 5 filled journals  + 1 travel journal begging to be written in

Books in bathroom: 1

Magazines in bathroom: (prior to sorting & recycling) 21 (after sort) 7

Books and magazines transferred to bathroom, from other areas of house, after inventory: 2

Hours spent in story time at the Litchfield Public Library: 108

Days spent curled up on my bed reading Anne of Green Gables books: 92

Days, in first grade, learning to read with Sun Up books: 120

Authors of educational books that have brought me to tears: 3

                Penny Kittle (Write Beside Them)

                Georgia Heard (Awakening the Heart)

                Ralph Fletcher (What a Writer Needs)

Times I have walked into a bookstore and inhaled the lovely book aroma: 393

Times I have cheered, like a crazed fan, for the librarians in the Arvada parade: 1

Hours I shelved books at the Arvada Public Library: 832

Times I have been bummed that I borrowed a book, rather than purchased it myself: 5

Times I have gone and purchased the said borrowed book, after reading it: 3

Books that are actually in storage: 400ish

I should have thought this little “too many books?” project through before starting it. Alright. Maybe, just maybe, I need to convert to a Kindle. Maybe if they added a book smell to it I would be more likely to embrace this fancy new technology. Maybe I should consider a Kindle for the sake of the planet, for the sake of our home. I would hate to show up on an episode of Hoarders, as the woman who lined her home with books. The woman who made her children sleep on stacks of books, instead of comfy beds. I am definitely not ready to say there is such a thing as too many books. Someday, you may see me curled up reading from my Kindle. But, for tonight, I am off to snuggle into my bed, to smell that intoxicating smell, and to read the old fashion way. With a book.

Best Laid Plans

I have spent the past three weeks immersing myself in writing. I write almost every day. I read about writing. I write about writing. I listen to other’s writing. So, when I realized that my almost seven year old son, Zakariah, had not done any writing since the last day of school, over a month ago – I freaked out. My internal teacher voice began to shout, “What are you doing?!!! You know he needs to be writing, just like he needs to be reading!!!” I quickly began to devise a plan to “fix” this problem. Not sure why I thought a four-step plan to remedy this error was going to work, it never has in the past. But, I forged ahead anyway.

The morning after my revelation I gave Greyden and Zakariah my carefully crafted paper, complete with lines and a space to create a picture. They had just returned from Grandma and Grandpa’s house, which provided the perfect setting for a writing prompt. After revealing the beautiful new paper and pulling out a myriad of coloring supplies for them, I asked them to draw a picture and write about their favorite part of the vacation. Zakariah began to chatter about his favorite parts of the trip, and offered to write for Greyden too. My plan was working! I left them at the table and scurried off to prepare for another day of writing. After about 15 minutes of focused work, Zakariah came to show me his finished product. He had divided his space into three sections, so that he would have space to display his three most favorite parts of the trip. In the space under his pictures he had written; 1.bike 2.wii 3.fruit snacks. Four words!! That’s it. Four words!! Even though I know that drawing pictures and labeling is considered writing, it was not what I had in mind when I cooked up this amazing “write through the summer” plan.

On Friday evening, we were all sitting around the table chatting about the day’s events. That sounds a bit Little House on the Praire-ish, it seems that my mind has distorted the event a bit. I was actually sitting with the boys, attempting to pull out the day’s events from them, while Mike worked on making some semblance of order from the chaos in the kitchen. The three of them had been to see the movie, Cars 2, earlier in the day; they were each attempting to fill me in on the fascinating story. I decided to try another round of writing with them. We spent a considerable amount of time drawing and discussing their favorite part of the movie. Greyden talked about his picture, while I scripted his story. When I suggested to Zak that he should start writing, it was met with groans and whines. “I don’t know what to write.” After talking through several options, I bribed him. Yep. Bribed. I told him I would write a sentence while he wrote his. It worked. I pulled out a napkin and began to write. Once he had one sentence, we repeated the process. He wrote another sentence, and another, and another. By the time we each had four or five sentences he even said, “This is fun, Mom!” You know my inner teacher/mother was jumping for joy.

As we prepared for bed that night, Zak gave Mike a piece of the precious paper, and instructed him to write about his favorite part of the movie. Once the nighttime necessities were complete, we all filed into the boys’ room with paper (or napkin) in hand. We had decided that our bedtime routine would be altered tonight, instead of just reading, we would have our first ever Berges Tucker writing group. It was decided that Daddy would be the first to share. His words were met with praise and questions. He quickly knew how he could add to his existing story. Greyden shared with great conviction and detail. Zakariah beamed with pride as he shared his extending story. I shared the lead to a new story; which peaked their curiosity. Mike and I shared glances of pride and joy. It did not go at all like my plan; it was light-years beyond anything I could have planned. It was spontaneous and authentic, and about so much more than just making sure Zak is writing during the summer. This was about family, our family, embracing each other and sharing life together. No plan necessary.