The Machine

With all due respect to the great Albert Pujols, my wife, Danielle Smith is “The Machine.”

ESPN has a “promo” where “the greatest baseball player on the planet” is portrayed as a machine due to his consistent high level of success, constantly getting the job done without failure.  Albert has nothing on my wife.

Let me take you thru a typical day in the life of Danielle “La Maquina” Smith.

6am – Alarm goes off…Time to get kids ready for school…she’s not a morning person, so don’t talk to her, but you’ll see why she’s not a morning person in just a few short paragraphs.  I do talk to her; it’s amusing to watch her not respond to me (wait a minute, that happens regardless of time of day).  PS…She’s the most beautiful woman on the planet when she first wakes up.  That is not a joke.  I truly believe that.  I’m fortunate that my wife is one of those women that are naturally stunning (no makeup needed).  Yes, I’m lucky.  So is she, I’m quite a catch in the A.M.  I have fantastic morning hair.  Imagine the hair of the offspring of a Peacock and a Rooster.  That’s me (Random thought: I’m into roosters by the way, more to come on them later).

7am – Prepare kids’ breakfast, feed dog, listen to husband’s funny jokes (Me being a morning person is wonderful for our marriage), converse with neighbor’s kids who carpool with our little ones, and complete approximately 20 Tweets, Email replies, and FB updates all while still laughing at husband’s jokes.  I love the morning J And, dang, my best material hits me as the Rooster crows.  PS…We don’t have a rooster, but I’d love to have one some day.  Note:  Put that on my Christmas List.

725 am – Take kids to school while belting out “Raise Your Glass” by Pink.  That’s the Truth.  If you know her or will see her soon, ask her to sing it for you, Very Entertaining.

830am-1115am – Depending on the day, it’s one of the following…Either,

  1. Perform on Camera for a local Marketing company on the most recent Commercial Spot
  2. Meet with Owner(s) of a St Louis based PR firm, Elasticity.  Now, those guys are funny.  I wonder if they tell her jokes in the morning meetings.  I wonder if she laughs.  Huh, this is all running through my head right now.  If she laughs at their jokes and not mine, oh, I’m going to be so … Okay, so anyway
  3. Write and Write and Write … Blog Posts, Tweet Replies, emails, IMs, DMs, FBs, ETC.  I don’t know what ETC means, but it seems like it ends all lists.
  4. Room Mother at both Delaney and Cooper’s School.  There is 1 Room Mother representative for both kid’s schools and guess who it is?  Yep, THE MACHINE
  5. Speak to local groups, High Schools, any and all community organizations, local DECA chapters, woman’s groups, ETC (there’s that acronym again).  My wife will talk to anyone (as long as it’s after 8am).  She’s more giving of her time than Mr. Swatch (that was punny).  Danielle is always willing to help out in anyway she can.  See her website motto of “Give good, get good.”  She gives of her time over and over and over again, and she “gets” to be married to me.  Good deal for her and for those she gives to…

1145 am – Pick up Cooper from School

1215-330pm – Be a Mommy to Cooper.  See, Coop is a very energetic, sports fanatic who’s smarter than the average bear.  He says to me the other day, “Dad, I don’t like to take naps because I’m afraid I’ll miss something.”  That’s Cooper.  He’s 4, and he’s all hers for 4hours a day Monday thru Friday.  Whew, I’m tired just thinking about them playing baseball and football and soccer and basketball and wrestling and hockey and…I’ve asked her to play sports with him, so that he can continue to sharpen his hand-eye coordination and get continue to fine tune his muscle memory.  I’m sure she does this for me, ahem, I mean … for him.

330pm – Delaney arrives home from school

400pm – 500pm – Help Delaney with her school work and prepare a wonderful feast for all of us (I clean, so I do my part.  I’ll do a post on “Marriage:  It’s the ultimate team game” some other time, but this post is all about THE MACHINE)

500-502pm – She eats.  Like a bird.  That’s good for me, because I clean up the leftovers.  I’m a raccoon.

600-730pm – It’s Family Time.  We read books, play hide-n-go seek, go to soccer or softball practice (depending on the time of year), dance around the kitchen to some random “GLEE” version of a current hit.  Long Live the Warblers!!!  It’s this 90 minutes of the day which is the best for me.  I love it.  Plus, I can do the worm, so the dancing thing is a blast.

730pm-800pm – Bath Time, Prayers and Bed Time

Now, the fun starts for The Machine.

815pm-2am (many times as late as 3am) – This is when THE MACHINE is at her best.  See, Danielle is nocturnal.  She does her best writing, video editing, producing, and creative thinking at night. I, with one hand on the remote and one hand on my … wife’s leg, crash just after “Seinfeld.” (1030 pm local time).  That show is still funny. She continues to type, as I start to dream about…farm animals.

I do NOT know how she writes as wonderfully as she does at 2 o’clock in the morning.  Her writing is organized, well though out, has a purpose, inspirational and is easy to read.  And, she does all of this as the raccoon returns to his home while the rooster assumes the position.

Press “Start” to make a copy and see The Machine do it all again tomorrow.

Therapon Skin Health and Real Beauty

Real Beauty….

What is real beauty?

To you….  what does it look like?  Is it the smile you see on someone’s face?  The way they treat a stranger?  Is it how they take care of themselves?

Recently, I was invited to be a Real Beauty Blogger for Therapon Skin Health….  and it most certainly doesn’t have anything to do with beauty in the traditional sense…

I’ve written about it over here.…  Join me…

Talk Live – Vlogging Tips – Pregnant Pause

More Video and Vlogging Tips:

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Turning into a Pumpkin

It is almost 2am.  And I’m still up.

Again.

This is the only time I really have to think.  To write. To work.

I can’t work with the small people leaning over my shoulder, yanking on my arm, clamoring in my ear.  And honestly – when they are awake and active, I WANT to be with them.  And I want to be PRESENT.  Now, that doesn’t mean I always succeed with my present-ness, because, quite honestly, I often feel pressed to get at least a little something done during the day.  And, of course, even the folks on the West Coast don’t want to chat with me at midnight.  So – phone calls – those have to be set when the sun is still up.

But the rest of this?  The emails, the articles, the blogging, the commenting, the social-media-ing? That is mainly reserved for the hours approaching (or after) the moment I officially turn into a pumpkin. Midnight. Yep – turning orange as I type.

And this whole pumpkin thing?  It is likely the only thing Cinderella and I have in common.  Well, except for Prince Charming.  He’s mine, I tell ya! (even though he doesn’t like that I’m up so late – something about a weak immune system and a propensity for getting sick when I don’t get enough sleep – blah, blah, blah – but great that he cares, yes??)

 P.S. I don’t have a carriage, but the shoe fits.

Why Do I Write?

I write because I love it.  I always have.

I write because sometimes I hurt – and you – you always make me feel better.  I lose my daughter – you tell me you have done it too.  I feel like that yelling mom you avoid in the grocery store – and you understand – because you have been there too.

I write because sometimes, I am overjoyed.  And when I am, you celebrate with me.  You understand the euphoria associated with that first time on the potty.  You ‘get’ the love I feel when I get an unprompted ‘I love you’ from a small person.

I write because you always remind me I am not alone.  Even on the days when my husband just may get an ‘I quit’ note scrawled in purple crayon.

I don’t claim to be great at it.  Passable, I’m sure, but not ‘wow-I-can’t-believe-she-wrote-that’  like some of you.  Like Megan.  And Amber. You people are T-A-L-E-N-T-E-D. And I say that with love, not envy. (Well, maybe a smidgen of envy – but it is good-natured-sometimes-I-wish-we-shared-a-brain envy.)

I write because it is a release, a welcome, a shared experience, an opportunity to laugh and cry and rejoice. 

Sometimes it may be boring, but, well, sometimes I guess I am. And that is ok.

Why do you write?

Curiouser and Curiouser

Sometimes I think I must not get it at all.

And by ‘IT’, I mean some people and their truly special brand of nastiness.

I blog because I like to.  I like to share, and love it when people share back.

I just never imagined that ‘sharing’ to some is more like ‘spreading-the-most-disturbing kind-of-evil-you-can-think-of’.

Let me explain.  I have never had a serious hate comment (please don’t start now). But I’ve heard some bloggers talk about closing comments, crying at their desks, etc because the hatred gets out of hand.  And I just saw it happen.

I visited Dooce.  You know her, right?  I don’t know her very well…just stop by every now and again.  Tonight she was talking about getting an unscheduled ultrasound because the doctors had determined her belly hadn’t grown enough.

You know and I know – that hearing ANYTHING might be amiss in your pregnancy is terrifying.  The ultrasound proved things are hunky-dory, but as I was reading through some of the comments, most of them filled with well-wishes, there was one, posted Anonymously, (naturally – you coward) that really stuck out:

162. Anonymous said:

Too bad. I am still hoping something horrible happens to that troll fetus inside of you. What is it like having such a hideous daughter? I wonder what she’s going to do when all the kids start picking on her for being ugly? Ugh. It’s so disgusting you are bringing another creature into the world. Don’t end up in the looney bin this time. LOL

Ok…seriously….is the ‘LOL’ meant to indicate the venom was a joke? Who actually THINKS something like that about someone, let alone, sits them self down at a computer and TYPES it out, letter by letter. Who calls a child ugly?

Look, I get it.  I’ve read some of the opinions on Dooce, but even if you disagree with every flippin’ word that comes out of her mouth, (and if you do, why are you reading???)do you really wish her and her baby HARM?  Do you really direct hatred at a young girl? Can that possibly be real?

I mean, SERIOUSLY??!!?? I’m baffled.

Blogging is a bit like breathing

For the past week, it has felt a little like someone has been sitting on my chest.  And when someone is sitting on your chest, it is a little hard to breathe.  I kind of like breathing.  It is essential to who I am.  Funny, blogging seems to have carved out a similar ‘essential’ slot in my life.

So, naturally, when my blog went down last week when my server was being updated, I panicked. Hence the ‘someone sitting on my chest’ feeling.  In fact, (hold on – deep breath ——- ok better) I’m feeling some of that panic start to settle in again as I remember the moment I realized there was trouble with a capital T in my little world.

I didn’t know I relied on blogging so much.  I didn’t realize I enjoyed it and well, clearly, NEEDED it.  I found out the blog was down when someone sent me a note through TwitterMoms to say they liked my site but couldn’t see the blog.  My hands actually trembled as I typed in my URL.  Nothing.  Blog gone. 

I emailed the people who are MUCH SMARTER THAN ME: Ty at Synergy Design - my website/server extraordinaire and Heather – at Desperately Seeking Sanity (and Desperately Seeking WordPress) – my favorite Blog and WordPress Know-it-all, who originally incorporated my blog into my website.  I had no idea getting me back online would be such a complicated endeavor, but it was.

I continued to type my URL in religiously (about every 1/2 hour on Wednesday) But decided I needed to practice patience – so I moved to every hour on Thursday, every other hour on Friday and every few hours on Saturday.  By Sunday, I was actually sweating, but took to blogging in my head to get through it. Though it took 6 whole days ( 144 hours for those of you who wanted to quantify my suffering in smaller increments) Ty and Heather worked their magic and made everything in my world right again.

OK, slightly dramatic, I know.  But, SERIOUSLY!  I. Didn’t. Know. I. Would. Miss. Blogging. So. Much.  I wanted to write about my kids making my crazy and proud, happy and sad.  I wanted to tell the bloggy world about the kind stranger at the grocery store and the bizarre, naked woman at the gym.  I wanted as ask what you all thought of Ann Coulter blaming single moms for many of the ills in our world.  And what you thought of the Golden Globes. But I couldn’t.  I was stuck harassing my family and friends with topics only suited for my blog.

So, here I am now.  Back to pour out my soul to you with renewed energy, drive and verve.

And it feels good.  Like breathing.