Towering Spirit

I will never forget the words I said when the first World Trade Center tower collapsed. I will also never feel good about it. I was a writer at a weekly newspaper on Sept. 11, 2001. I was also six months pregnant. I saw the planes hit the towers at my grandmother's house, where I was staying at the time. By the time I got to work, everyone was staring at the televsion in the newsroom, open mouthed, barely blinking.
In between the moments of television newsreporting, there were comments and discussion about what we, as a weekly newspaper, should do next.
Then the first tower fell.
As I am sure was the case all over the world, we all gasped. Collectively.
Chatter began about the lives that would be lost and what a tragedy we were all watching. That's when I spoke.
"But, don't you think they would have gotten everyone out of the building by now?"
Of course, I had no way to know that the emergency services at the time were telling people to stay in the tower. I had no way of knowing what was really going on in NYC.
Maybe I really am a cockeyed optomist, because I really thought that everyone would have evacuated.
Today, eight years later, as I sit on my couch and watch the History Channel, I think I was not alone in thinking that. I am hearing other people saying it.
I also know that then, as now, I would have been like one of the cameramen who was interviewed, had I been there. I would have rushed toward the towers, or pointed a camera in that direction, or spoken to the people on the street. Not for the noble job of saving others or rescuing, but rather for chronicalling the incident.
For some of us, news is in our blood. When the tornado sirens go off, we go outside to see what the sky looks like. When there is flooding, we strap on rain boots. When there is an accident or a crime, we rush toward the scene.
Part of me fears this is a dying art. But, again, as I sit and watch the shows on the History Channel, I cannot help but appreciate those who rushed forward with cameras. Those who captured the raw footage, the human reactions, the faces of those who were there. They are heroes in a different way. They memorialized sights, sounds and, in some cases, the last glimpses of people who were there.
In one case, a cameraman caught a whole company of firefighters heading in...a whole company that never headed out.
Eight years ago, I was worried for the future of the world, a world into which I was bringing a baby. I had no idea what the days, months, years would bring.
I wondered, standing there in front of the television in a newsroom, what kind of world my son would see.
Today, there has been tragedy. Many lives were lost, not only in the tragedy, but in the ensuing wars. But there has also been the strength of human character. There has been healing, in individuals and as a country.
I hope the lessons that we learned on 9-11 - to trust your instinct, to prepare and to help others - will grow more and more. I hope that by the time my sons, now I have two, are adults and have their own careers, that more will connect humanity than seperates it.
The towers fell. People died. Let us not allow the human spirit to fall and die too.

Squeezing the last breath out of summer

At the begining of this summer, when we all had the hope that there would actually be some warm weather, my kids made a wish list. Among the destinations were the ordinary places, like the pool and the beach, but also camping, an amusement park and Nate's lone wish - to pet a deer.
We accomplished almost all of the items on our list.
Nate got to feed a deer. He said he did not get to pet it, but going back to the K Mine Park, which is in Godley, should be easy enough.



Our summer started out right away, with camping at Indiana Beach, which included an amusement park and a sand beach.



We expected that as the summer wore on that we would get to go to a beach in Chicago, but it never seemed like it was hot enough.

We also visited Lincoln Park Zoo, the Morton Arboretum and Six Flags Great America

We had a great summer. And we still have the weekends to do more fun things, before the weather changes to unpleasant cold. Anyone have any suggestions?

Don't wait to exhale

In the interest of National Relaxation Day, I am posting a couple of photos of places that make me feel at peace.



This one is of a path in Germany, where I lived for two years.

I am alway moved by walks in nature. My two favorite local places are the path in Channahon Community Park and Pilcher Park Nature Center in Joliet.

But the place dearest to my heart of relaxation is in Pottenstein, Germany.

A vegetable by any other name

I have always liked Farmer's Markets. Although I am not a vegetarian by any stretch of the imagination, I don't think I have met a vegatable I did not like. Going out to the Joliet Farmer's Market with JJCs Chef Michael McGreal opened up vegetables that I have never even seen before. Like Petit pan squash...I have yet to try them, but they are on my list. I took the opportunity of my trips to Joliet and to the New Lenox Farmer's Market to buy veggies you don't find in a store, like suntan peppers. The idea is that suntan peppers are left on the vine to ripen. So, a green pepper might not be green all the way around. Places where the sun hit the pepper directly, for example, turn orange or red. I bought one or two of these. They taste the same, but psychologically, I cannot bring myself to buy loose, non vine ripened vegetables, especially tomatoes, now that I know what I know.
During my trip to the Joliet market, Chef McGreal told me about the modern ripening of tomatoes. Basically tomatoes are picked when they are green (which is very tasty to fry up, but I digress) and then brought to a warehouse, where they are chemically ripened with a gas. The gas changed the color of the tomatoe, but not the taste...which is why the tomatoes you buy at a store do not taste the same as the ones in your garden.
I am intrigued by heirloom tomatoes and am going to begin looking for them. I will let you know what I think when I find them.

Why I became a journalist

This original post ran July 11, 2008, nearly a year ago today. I am rerunning it because I am told these same people are out in Will County today.

The other day, I was reminded about why I became a journalist. When I was in high school, the administration decided to formally celebrate pro-life week. A symbolic display of paper booties was hung in the main hallway, statistics were posted on the cafeteria wall and a poem was read on the loudspeaker every day.
That poem, which I tried to find on the Internet, but could not, talked about the beautiful development of a fetus, but ends with "my mommy killed me today."
When we got to the last day of the poem, three girls in my homeroom ran out crying.
I was moved to action. Why was it necessary to make these girls relive what was probably the hardest and most gut wrenching decision of their lives? Did they have sex before marriage? Clearly they did. Did they make a decision to have an abortion? Yes, they did. But why, in trying to celebrate life, did we have to cause more pain.
I spoke up then, when I was a teen, because I thought the point could be made without causing more pain. And in speaking up, through my school newspaper, I got people talking, and administrators listening. And the girls who needed it, could get help to talk about their feelings. Back then, there was a better way. I believe there still is.
It was many, many signs of aborted fetus that greeted me, on the way to lunch, no less, on Friday afternoon. Did members of The Truth Tour warn me it was coming up with a sign telling me graphic images were ahead? Yes, they did.
But their display made me just as mad, if not more, than I was when I was in high school.
Their Web site addresses some of the objections they have heard and I would like to press them a little more.
1. Children will see the photos. The Truth tour wants people to know that is why they stand in advance of the protest with a sign of warning.
But I have news for you. Children sit in the backseat. I can not cover their eyes. So, you are forcing me to have a conversation with my child about abortion possibly before I want to. My children are 6 and 4. I should be able to chose when to tell my children about abortion.
2. It hurts women who have had abortions. The Web site says, "We try to help these women take the first steps along the journey of healing. Our display includes pictures of Our Lord which prominently bear the message, "Jesus Forgives and Heals."
Really, so you only offer comfort to women who are Christian? And, what about women who did not ABORT their babies but MISCARRIED? Exactly what will this do to them? The path to healing does not begin with guilt and more pain.
3. The Truth Tour saves babies. According to the Web site, protestors have been told by women who saw the display that they changed their minds.
What I am saying, though, is that there is a better way.
Why don't the same people who would spend a day protesting along the side of the road spend that time creating an organization that will support women who are pregnant and don't want to be? Why not counsel these women, connect them with places for adoption or support them to be ready when the baby comes?
Instead of causing more grief and pain, why not spur healing with a picnic of beautiful babies who lived because the mothers chose life? Why not support counseling programs for women who chose abortion, to help them to heal?
It is not enough to simply put links to these places on your Web site.
Protestors are doing it because they believe it needs to be graphic to work. The Truth Tour is a Christian organization, so let me ask you the most important question...do you believe, if Jesus was alive today, that he would stand on the side of the road with a photo of an aborted fetus? Or, do you believe he would seek out the women who needed help, forgive those who had chosen abortion, and counsel those who were pregnant with no means to care for the baby.
Jesus would have loved them. And you don't love someone by standing on the side of the road with a sign of death.

The strength of the past

This ran in the Herald News on July 8, as a sidebar to a larger story about hypnotherapy.

In a past life, I was a woman living on the east coast of America. I was married to a man who once was a fisherman until he was called to war. He died in that war. We had one child together, a son.

I know this because I remembered it, but I am not sure that I believe it.

As part of my hypnotherapy story, I sat in Linda Herrick's office and participated in a past-life regression session.

Past-life regression sessions take longer than traditional hypnotherapy sessions because you have to be in a deeper state of hypnosis.

As promised by Herrick, I did remember all the things I saw in my mind when I came back to full consciousness.

"How do I know I wasn't just making it all up," I asked as soon as I came out of hypnosis.

"Don't you think you would have made it more interesting?" Herrick asked, laughing.

OK, so I admit the two lives I remembered were rather boring. In one I was a widow and in the other I was a man who traveled to different villages to repair things. In the first, we are estimating it was the 1940s, and in the second, sometime in the 1800s.

Whether these really were or were not my past lives I could not tell you for sure. I did, however, find the whole experience fascinating.

Herrick asks logical questions as the hypnosis begins: What are you doing? What do you see? What is your name?

What I found most interesting were the details I could remember versus the ones I could not. For example, the woman who lived on the East Coast was very vivid in my mind — the way she looked, what she wore, the things she was seeing. However, I can't for the life of me tell you what her name was.

In order to go to past lives, Herrick first brings you to memories of your childhood. My memories of the house I grew up in are pretty vivid, so I was not surprised to remember those. But one of my memories was of me in the front room of a home I do not remember. When I asked my mom to describe the place she and my dad lived in when I was very young, what she described sounded like what I saw in my mind.

I also found it interesting that my active mind kept questioning what I was seeing. In the first life I remembered, I saw a castle. And my active mind said something like, come on, a castle?

But in that life I did not live there; I simply could see it in the village.

What I walked away with was a cool lesson, no matter whether the memories were past lives or my imagination. In the life as a male, I was independent. I had no family and wandered from village to village. But, at the end of my life, I wished I had settled down.

In the second life I remembered, I was again a fiercely independent woman. I did not follow the norms of the day, preferring to be alone in my home rather than with the other war widows. Others saw me as a bit cold, reserved, but I was happy. And while I imagined or remembered that I was not affectionate to my son in the way I am to my children today, when I died in that lifetime my son was heartbroken. Clearly there was love.

So, in my awakened state, I remembered those emotions, the qualities of the people in my mind. And I would like to keep more of that independence from the past lives, but more of the affection from the current one.

Whether or not these were my past lives I was remembering, I would do it again just to see what would come up.

A trip back in time

My family and I came back from a much needed vacation to Indiana Beach last week.

I think I did not realize just how needed it was until the tram driver said the park was celebrating its 84th birthday this year. The last time we were there was for the 80th birthday. It seems like it was only a year or two ago.
So, we really needed a vacation. And, we had a great time.
We decided to return to the campground we stayed at four years ago - Indiana Beach Camp Resort. At this point in our lives, we are still tent campers. So, after pitching the tent in the rain, sleeping the first night through a thunderstorm, mopping up the tent when we realized we had apparently either a) put the tent fly on wrong or b) put the tarp down wrong, we were more grateful than most for the sunny, albeit hot days that followed. Thank goodness my (sometimes) brilliant hubby made us buy an industrial strength fan at the Wal-Mart.
Camping was only a small part of the fun of this vacation. The real fun was found across the street, at the Indiana Beach Resort.
IB is a total retro experience. Many of the rides are the same from when I was child, but more than that, this park feels like it is only a stone throws away from when it began in 1926.
Maybe it was my visit to the Skyroom Restaurant, or the fact that I was visiting during the week when the park was quieter that made me feel that way. But, when I caved and bought a white, wide-brimmed hat on the second day to keep my face from getting burned, I felt like I fit right in. The kids must have thought so too, they kept stealing it.

Don't get me wrong, the park has plenty of modern excitement, not the least of which is the new coaster Steel Hawg. But, the laid-back attitude, the beach, (which short of the waterslides has not changed much) and the shops with the accomodating older ladies stocking the shelves might make you check your calender, not your watch.
This feeling, though, just adds to the fun at Indiana Beach. It's hard to really get away in this modern world, where we are constantly technologically connected. I found myself looking at my cellular phone only for one thing while on vacation - to see what time it was so I could get on as many rides as possible before the park closed.
We camped for four nights and bought a three-day pass to the park. This seemed like the perfect amount of time. We got on all the rides we wanted, rode our favorites more than once and wrapped up our visit with a ride on the Shafer Queen.
Indiana Beach is the perfect vacation for a family with small(er) children. My 7-year-old (although admittedly tall for his age) was able to get on all but one ride. My nearly-5-year-old was able to get on more rides than I would have expected. And they both had a blast.
On the way home, tent and enough stuffed animals to start a small zoo packed in the truck, they shouted out the window, "Bye Indiana Beach, see you next year."

Fun Day

We missed the polar bears, but that was about the only complaint my kids had about our visit to Lincoln Park Zoo.
When we arrived, the zookeepers were explaining the care of the seals. So, we took a seat and watched their antics. It was not until near the end of the visit that we watched them through the underground tank.
Lincoln Park Zoo is free to get into. If you can manage to find parking on the street, (if you are patient enough to drive around until near insanity), the whole day can be free. This was our approach on June 15. I packed some snacks, but I did plan to eat lunch at the zoo. The zoo has a variety of options, which is good because I have some picky children.
What I was most impressed by at the zoo is their Children's Zoo, which is complete with a splash pad. No matter that my kids did not have a change of clothes.


It was hot out and it was fun day, after all. The Children's Zoo also had a really cool treehouse thing kids could climb on. Imagine a typical climbing toy, like you would find at a fast food restaurant, but, instead of brightly colored plastic, there are tree-like sculptures the kids can climb on. The treehouse also give kids a number of different paths they can take.
In addition to all the great attractions always found at LPZ, the zoo has a concert series planned for the summer. With acts like Sister Hazel and Five for Fighting, Jammin' at the Zoo is definately worth a trip. Just make sure you leave enough time to see the polar bears.

Animal Day

The last days of school for my oldest son, Joey were a countdown of the alphabet. On B day, they brought Books to school and had a Beach party. Shortly after the summer began, we implemented the same idea at home and our first day was Animal Day.
We decided to go somewhere local. So, we packed a picnic lunch and headed to Pilcher Park Nature Center.
It made me think about what great places we have in our own backyards.
Before we even walked through the front doors, we began a nature Adventure. My kids, who are total nature babies, began analyzing a bug that was crawling along the front stairs. We went inside and washed our hands and headed out back for our lunch.
We ate our sandwiches while we watched butterflies in the nearby butterfly garden. When we were done eating, we headed to the kids play area. The officials at PPNC built an outdoor tic tac toe board, which left me inspired to build one in my own yard. Then, I came to my senses.
We went on a nature walk, saw a squirrel, a chipmunk, more butterflies, a dragonfly, birds and bugs. We tried to go see the frogs down by the pond, but the kids were exhausted. So was our dog, who had come along for a long walk.
We spent, probably three hours at the nature center. It cost nothing. And the kids had a blast.
Later on this month, is Fun day. Since the kids have a dentist appointment that morning and the dentist is in downtown Chicago (yes, he's that good), I figured we would check out Lincoln Park Zoo. The Zoo is free and if you can find street parking, the whole visit costs nothing.
That's the right price for this unemployed mom.

The Winter of My Unemployment

I live by the seasons. If you know me, you probably know that. And, career-wise, this is apparently my winter. Beyond the obvious, cold, hibranating, quiet, it is apparently my time to do work internally, as you do in the winter. Here's the thing about working full time, the people you work with become your family. You see them every day for hours and hours. You rejoice with them, mourn with them, eat with them...when you don't like the people you work with, it sucks. When the place you work feels like home, though, it's awesome...until you're evicted...in my case, laid off. It's not so much the work I miss, mostly, probably because I am still doing much of it. It's the people I miss. When you leave a job, for whatever reason, people always promise to stay in touch. And, maybe they do. But it's never the same. It's never every day, their triumphs and failures, your highs and lows together, podmates to complain to and laugh with, desks to decorate on birthdays. Which leads me to my winter. Winter is a time to do inner work. To meditate, to work on the self. I feel like that right now. I used to write with the noise of a newsroom, people on the phone yelling, people passing by getting candy from my bowl and inevitably, enough talking to distract me from meeting a deadline or two (or three). Now, I write in comparible silence. The tv might be on, or music might be playing. Nate is usually asking for juice or a hot dog, or more juice. But, in comparison to a newsroom, it's silent. Apparently, there is something for me to learn here, in the quiet of my home, in the zen of my office. Apparently there is some lesson that would have been drowned out by the din of commeradorie (there's no one to ask about how to spell stuff either). Like the winter, though, it's lonely here. The snow of silence is covering me up. I find echos in my mind. I wonder what will happen when the ground thaws. Will I have found that I am enough, that the chatter was just noise and the true friendships were not limited by the walls of a newsroom? Will I find that there are new friends and new lessons and new families to be formed? Will I learn that everything changes and to not let go of the oars and go with the flow of the river would be to slow down my own growth?I don't know. But, for now, like those of us in the cold of the winter, I am restless. I want to plant flowers, I have to wait for the ground to thaw. I want to swim in the river, I have to wait for the ice to melt. I want to feel the sun on my skin, but I have to wait for the earth to spin to summer. If there is only one thing I know, I know that it will change. Winter will become spring and then summer, fall and winter again. I will plant, swim, feel. For now, though, I will write in silence...hoping that I am doing so to hear that tiny voice with the profound message that I have been drowning out for so long.

Middle School Musical

My seven-year-old surprized me the other day.
"I want to go see High School Musical," he said, pointing to a poster of the production at the middle school in his school district.
"You do?" I asked, confused.
This is the same child who complained his way through a play a friend of mine was in that I apparently forced him to sit through against every bone in his body.
"Yea, my friend Justin is in it," he said.
"He is?" I asked, confused, since Justin is in second grade and this is a middle school production. But, hey, he wants to go see theater, I am not objecting. I was a theater minor in college and believe in the arts - so much so that I hope to teach theater one day. So, off we went.
The show, at Troy Middle School, was sold out. Oh boy. I knew I was going to be blogging about the production, and I knew the sooner I could do that the better, so others could buy tickets to the remaining productions. So, I hung out, figuring the worst I would have to do is stand in the back of the theater.
Luckily, though, Dee Engelsbel sold me two tickets she had, so thank you so much to her.
The production, well, I highly recommend you catch this one.
Andrew Willis, who plays Jack Scott is funny. He opens the show with a warning to silence cell phones.
"Miss Darbus has a zero tolerance policy and she'll take them away and you'll get detention," he said of the teacher in the show.
The singing in the show is quite good. Amber Allison, who plays Sharpay Evans and Matthew Verive, who plays her brother Ryan Evans, not only have good voices, but they have voices that blend flawlessly together. When they sing their first duet, "What I've Been Looking For," neither one overpowers the other.
I was also quite impressed with the actress who played Ms. Tenny and a Wildcat cheerleader. You might not notice this was the same girl, as Zoe Roechner morphed into characters so well you had to be paying attention.
This show requires a lot of energy from the entire cast, and they must have been exhausted when they were done, for they kept the energy up for more than two hours. This was perhaps no more clear than when the set changed from locker room to cafeteria or theater or lab, without leaving the audience impatient.
This was a middle school production, and, as such, had it's own flaws and places it could improve. But, having said that, it also had moments of glory, moments where, as an audience member, you lost yourself in the production. And, that is the point of theater, to draw you in and make you a part of the illusion.
As I said, I suggest you go and see this production. But make sure you buy your tickets ahead of time. This show sells out.

Have your secretary put this on your schedule

For the past seven years, Suzie Stockwell, Wedding and Event planner at Joliet Junior College's Renaissance Center, has been taking time out to honor the men and women who keep their bosses running.

"Without their secretaries, the bosses wouldn't be where they are today," Stockwell said.

The Secretary Day buffet and vendor fair is set this year for 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., April 22. In addition to a buffet prepared by the professional chefs and culinary arts students, which includes grilled Sicilian-style steak with peppers and onions and a pasta action station, attendees will be pampered by a variety of vendors selected to give the secretaries an opportunity to relax.

Shana Laugherty is Stockwell's secretary. While she is taking the day off from her secretary duties, she is not spending the day being pampered. Instead, she is offering pampering to others.

"I love it, it's not like work to me at all," she said of her time as a massage therapist.

Laugherty will be offering seated chair massages.

"The chair massage is very beneficial," she said. "You don't think it helps, but when you're done, you feel better, even if it's ten minutes."

In addition to chair massages, Sandy Costa, of Foo Tribe will be offering Reiki, Dulcinea Hawksworth, of Little Black Book, will be selling hand-made jewelry and promoting her latest show, "The Vagina Monologues." (I am in the cast.) Linda Herrick, owner of Alternative Soulutions, will be offering hypnotherapy. And Mary Kay Independent Executive Senior Sales Director Susan Hohlman will pamper the ladies.

In addition to these, yours truly will be offering mini tarot card readings. Come out and try a reading for free and find out if you want to know more.

To attend the event, please call 815-280-1404.

To schedule a longer session with Laugherty, call her at 815-557-1727.

Ambrosial apples just the beginning

When I was a young child, my grandmother would make the most amazing apple pie. It was just the right combination of sweet and tart. The crust was flaky. It had cinnamon and nutmeg notes and generally was downright delicious. My grandmother stopped making the pie decades ago, after my grandfather criticized it on the wrong day. I felt punished. I loved that pie. She could have made a smaller helping just for me.
I have never found one that was as good as granny's. That is until Wednesday.
I am a foodie. I love food. And one of the perks of living in Joliet is that I can taste gourmet food, prepared by professional chefs and culinary arts students, pretty much whenever I want.
It was at the Wednesday buffet at the Joliet Junior College Renaissance Center that I ate pie that immedietly took my taste buds back to my youth. I had two helpings. And that was after I had relished the offerings of the day, which was a Spanish-themed buffet.
The best part about these buffets is that the public is welcome to take part. Recently, the Renaissance Center added a daily menu as well. So, even if you can't make it on a Wednesday, you can taste the offerings of the chefs.
While the daily and weekly options are fantastic, they do not hold a candle to the special events at the school. The next event is the Spring Gala, April 19. For $95 you get a four course meal plus hors d’oeuvres, dessert and winepairings. In addition, you are supporting the scholarship program for the culinary arts students.
I have personally tasted the offerings on the menu and there was nothing I tried that I did not like. For more information on the menu, read my story in The Herald News.
Suffice to say the food is worth the price, which goes to a good cause anyway. For tickets to the event, call 815-280-2255.
If you can't make it on April 19, consider taking your secretary to the Secretary Day buffet on April 22. Watch for a blog on that event in the coming days.
Or, take your mom out to the Mother's Day brunch on May 10.
Happy eating!

Many of my readers know that I am currently involved in a production of The Vagina Monologues. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, The Vagina Monologues, written by Eve Ensler, was first produced in 1998, with a benefit performance at New York’s Hammerstein Ballroom. The event raised $250,000 for local NYC anti-violence groups.
The production I am involved in raises money for the Will County Sexual Assault Services Center.
It’s a worthy cause and the message of the show is one that is needed.
As a cast member, though, the message that audience members will be touched by and hopefully take action because of take on a life of their own.
In the months that I have been working on this show, the very word Vagina has transformed.
The Vagina is not just a part of the body of a woman. The Vagina is the woman.
It bears forth life, takes in passion, bleeds and heals. It hides secrets and reveals truths. It is hidden, yet its mystery is embraced. It grows and changes and when it is called on to be strong, holds more strength than anyone, including the woman herself, thought that it could.
When you sit and listen to the monologues, cast members are not just memorizing lines, but are becoming the women whose stories they are telling.
As women, we want others to understand where we are coming from. We don’t generally tell our stories purely for the entertainment of others. We tell our stories so people can learn something, understand more deeply, be moved to action. And, when other tell our stories, they learn and understand and are moved.
Today, two days before our opening night, each of us in the cast is a different person than the day they auditioned. We have more compassion. We have more attitude. We are angrier and less angry. We have channeled our inner dominatrix.
The stories of women whom we have never met and whose circumstances may be more than we can imagine have become part of our stories.
We have become their warriors.

Go see the production. The first performance is at 7 p.m., April 4 at the Universalist Unitarian Church of Joliet, 3401 W. Jefferson. The second is at 7 p.m., April 25 at Ambrosia, 2771 Black Road.
Tickets are $10 for adults and $7 for students and seniors.
For more information on the production or to volunteer, visit www.myspace.com/artnite
To reserve your tickets in advance please contact lbbvday2009@yahoo.com

Because she said so

My mother used to use the phrase, "Because I said so," all the time. It drove me crazy. As an only child at the time, and a very inquisitive one at that, I did not understand why she could not explain why I could not paint on the walls, had to put down the sharp knife, should not try to cross the street alone. I wanted more of an explanation than because I said so offered.
So, when I heard the name of the book by Dawn Meehan, "Because I Said So," I giggled to myself. Meehan addresses the reason for the name in her book, which will have you in stitches.
She, too, admits it drove her crazy when her mother uttered the phrase. But, Meehan is a mom to six, yes you read it right, six children. If anyone should be able to explain herself with because I said so, it's her.
I first met Meehan last year, at a bloggers' event for Adventures in Disney. I liked her as a person right away. When I went home and read her blog, I liked her as a writer too.
This is Meehan's first book, but she already has fans across the globe. Her first entrance into public storytelling was when she sold a dirty baseball on Ebay. The sale had 220,000 hits because of the story she told. She became a blogger and later auctioned off a pack of Pokemon cards on Ebay and had 94,000 hits in one day, again, not so much for the Pokemon cards, but for the great story she told about her kids.
Her book is filled with those stories. Be prepared to laugh out loud. More than once.
I giggled my way through the first few pages, but on page 10, Meehan had me nearly running to pee, I was laughing so hard. When she described what it is like to wake up, in the middle of the night to find a child staring at you, I could not help but burst out laughing. Every parent has been there.
I am a mom of two. But some of the things that children do to drive us insane, um, I mean to show their creativity, is true no matter the number of children in the pack. When Meehan talks about taking children with when trying to buy clothing, well, I guess you're going to have to buy the book to read about that one. I highly recommend that you do so, by the way.
To buy the book, go here. To read and subscribe to Meehan's blog, go here.
And, if you want to meet Meehan, she will be signing her book from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m., April 4 at The Book Stall in Winnetka. For more information on the event, go here.

Welcome

Hello everyone,
Many of you have been my blog followers when I wrote under Cafe Aulet for The Herald News in Joliet. It's been about a month since that blog was taken down and I wanted to provide everyone a place to continue to read my work. Since much of what I wrote about on Cafe Aulet is still a part of my life, even though I am a freelance writer and not on staff, I thought I needed a place to write.
So, please become a fan of this blog. Send me ideas and information about local events. And watch for my review of "Because I said so," a book by Dawn Meehan, a mom of 6 and a blogger who will have you in stitches.
Welcome back everyone.