Blog

Well, I've thought about it a lot, and I've decided it's time to say "Sayonara" to blogging. Many factors lead to this decision. For one thing, I don't have the time to devote to blogging/posting pictures that I once did. My husband works from home and uses the main computer where we store our photos.  When he finally emerges from the basement, I'm so overjoyed to see he survived one more day of work that I don't much feel like abandoning him and heading for the basement myself.  My life is pretty full, and the blog always ends up on the back burner. For another, I don't really enjoy blogging like I used to. And lastly, there's the chagrin.  I'm fairly certain I've been doing this all wrong and have no actual readers. I've used my blog as a sort of online journal and occasional soapbox. I think most people find that really tedious and uninteresting. I really, really don't blame them. Honest, I don't. Since I've gotten in the habit of reading other people's blogs, I see that mine is kind of an odd duck. 

I know many folks are interested in seeing pictures of Alice (and maybe a future child...hmmm?) The best and easiest venue for this is Facebook. So if you're interested in staying in touch with me or keeping up with the life and times of the McKinney Family, look me up on Facebook. My Facebook i.d. is: robyn.mckinney1

If you've ever been in the McKinney home, you know that we are not minimalists. On the contrary, we love our collections! And on top of that, I love to make stuff! Our home is full of things that proclaim, "Robyn, Clay and Alice live here!" Though of little value or interest to other folks, our stuff makes us feel comfortable, safe, and at home.

My toddler is the Queen of Treasures in our home. Like most kids her age, she hoards treasures, toting them around in her purses or toy shopping cart. She has so many treasures that I cannot possibly keep up with them. Today she had me searching high and low for the two medicine droppers she uses as drumsticks. She carries around a plastic tomato slice which she calls a "cracker." She can often be found with a little blue medicine cup, which she uses to feed "milk" to all her babies. She latches onto the most insignificant things (and occasionally very significant things) and makes them her own. Sometimes to her mommy's dismay. She has no real concept of personal property and is constantly borrowing and mislaying my stuff. She has tried to call the police from my ADT keychain. She has made off and hid everything from my shoes to my craft supplies. She has yanked pins out of my pincushion and strewn them across the floor. She has even gotten hold of my make-up bag, streaking lipstick, concealer and mascara on her face. She also has a fascination for Mommy's creations, which is very flattering. Unfortunately, she really has a hard time keeping her hands to herself when she takes a liking to one of my delicate turtle sculptures, and several of them have been maimed in the process.

Usually, our house is a mess, with all of Alice's treasures strewn here and there. But we do clean up together every night, which hopefully gives her a concept of household order and good stewardship over her belongings. Also, it’s the only way I can keep all those beloved puzzle pieces and blocks from getting lost forever! It's a hassle, but she enjoys her things, and I want to respect that.

I know of people who have, for different motives, been possessed by a fit of downsizing and have infringed upon their children's right to their treasures. Maybe they feel guilty for having so much, and they think their kids should be, too. Maybe they're tired of the clutter. Maybe they've decided their kids were too old for "Goodnight Moon" and My Little Pony. Some tell their children they obviously don't appreciate their stuff enough, so some of it must go. Some surreptiously clean out their kids room while they are gone and then deny knowledge. Some coax their children into giving up their toys by telling them that some less-fortunate child needs them. Because there are so many kids in American bereft of stuffed animals and Barbie dolls, right? And then they drop the stuff off at Goodwill, and it invariably winds up in the hands of, say, Alice's doting grandma.

Clay and I were both really lucky to grow up in families who respected our treasures and let us hang onto them as long as we liked. It's great to grow up knowing that your things are safe. It give you a sense of trust in your family, and it gives you respect for your siblings' things, too. How many kids grow up knowing that no one is going to read their diary, steal their money, purposely destroy their possessions, or sneak the Halloween candy out of their bags. Few, I'd say.

I think a lot of Christians think that ownership of things is evil. But I don't see it that way. I see them as blessings. They remind me of God's goodness and of the interesting, beautiful world he made for us to enjoy. Clay and I, like Alice, still love to study and admire our treasures.

As you may know, I have begun to potty training our precious little Alice. I have looked toward this time with no small amount of trepidation. Potty training, your reputation precedes you. I have consulted books and discussed potty training with other women, particularly my mom, whose priceless wisdom has always proven so valuable. As a result, I’ve begun to question the popular approach to potty training, which mostly consists of out-and-out bribery.

My initial experience with potty training is that it is slow going. Hit and miss. Mostly miss, so far. It’s a process that does not take hours or days, but weeks. Okay, so it takes months. When faced with countless hours of trying to get a kid to successfully use the potty, I can understand why parents dangle candy, stickers, new toys and other rewards in front of their child in order to gain their cooperation. Most potty training resources back up this approach as acceptable. For whatever reason, this made me feel uncomfortable. So if I start doling out M&Ms when Alice makes a "deposit," when should I stop doing this? Might Alice decide that if there is to be no reward, there will be no more need to use the potty? It made me feel creepy and manipulative. And also, it made me feel like I would be cheating her (and me) out of the natural reward of learning to use the potty.

Life is full of these little natural rewards, more valuable by far than goodies or even a shopping spree. I think a lot of folks have lost sight of these sweet rewards, these feelings of accomplishment. They have become cheapened by the "What’s in it for me?" attitude that we have unwittingly cultivated in our children. My mom always says that there are some things that we do just because they are expected of us. We learn to use the potty because we are human beings designed to develop in this basic but important way. We clean up our messes and are kind to our family members because we want to contribute to making a happy home. We return someone’s lost wallet not because we hope there will be a reward, but because we are members of society and want to promote decency, trustworthiness, and peace.

I didn’t offer Alice candy when she was learning how to walk. I don’t give her a sticker when she speaks new words. And as she grows up, when she learns to draw, to learn her ABCs and 123s, to read, etc. I hope that she does all these things because they are their own reward.

As Clay and I were discussing these things, Clay observed, "Children are not puppies. But I think most people think that they are." This observation gave me the desire to give Alice some credit for being a human being. A human being who God intended to graduate from diapers in due time. As we take this journey, I pray that I will give Alice the best of my patience, encouragement and love.

The long-awaited week is upon us, ladies and gentlemen! That's right...the 85th Annual Dickson County Fair! When I moved back to my hometown, I determined to get involved in all things Dicksonian, so I'm delighted to be submitting some of my creations in the Home Economics competition this year. As I type this, my pound cake is baking in the oven while a pile of chocolate chip cookies sits wondering which of them will make it to the fair.

As a youngster I judged cattle and raised chickens for the fair, both for my local 4-H Club. By the time I got to Junior High, almost everyone had lost interest in 4-H in order to pursue their interests in cliques and bad pop music. My interest in the rural life waned and was nearly dead when my mom started raising goats a few years back. Gradually, I came to see the value of preserving things like the County Fair, Old Timers Day, The Grand Old Hatchery, and even the local rodeo. These things make up the cornerstone of the whole rural worldview. It's a dying way of life, but I am eager to see its revival.

I must admit, most of my fascination with rural life probably comes from incredibly cheesy old movies made by people who have never set foot outside of Los Angeles. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. But just in case you don't, allow me to illustrate.

The scene opens on a young, doe-eyed girl (let's call her Jenny, shall we?) and her plump-but-pretty mother (who is most definitely a "Mable".) They are emerging from the barnyard toting newborn sheep. Why not? They sing a song about how awesome farm life is while cheerfully finishing at their chores, which include making cherry pie, sewing new aprons, and churning butter. Jenny's chipper older brother, enters (his name is Billy) and gives his sister a noogie, which ruins the careful arrangement of her blond curls. She chases him playfully with a homemade broom. In tromps their father, Ray-Bob, with a freshly shot rabbit and a copy of the local newspaper, which announces a call for entries for the County Fair. As the women dress the rabbit and the men pour lead into their bullet molds, they sing a song about the hopes and dreams of the county fair.

Our family is a clean-living, God-fearing bunch, and so of course at the next scene they are church, piously folding their hands in prayer and nodding approvingly at the pastor. Until, of course, the snooty McClunkett Family enters, the matriarch of which taunts Mable with the reminder that her chow-chow recipe wins every year while Mables never even places. Mable responds by accusing the McClunketts of fair-related espionage, bribery, and general white-trashedness. A well-choreographed fight breaks out, which results in the church collapsing around them while the desperate pastor sings a song about how we should love our neighbors.

The next scene opens as our hopeful family loads up the cream of their crop and heads to the fair. Jenny and Mable set up their entries in the Culinary Delights Building while Ray-Bob and Billy settle their prized sheep into his pen. The sheep falls in love with a sheep being exhibited by the competing McClunketts. Mayhem ensues, and somehow all the barnyard animals escape and head straight to the midway, commandeering fair rides, winning gigantic stuffed animals for each other and getting jacked up on cotton candy.

That evening, after things simmer down a bit, Billy sings a song to his shy sister about partaking in all the adventures the fair has to offer. A fair is a veritable smorgasbord, after all. Since Jenny's overprotective mother is preoccupied with concerns over the chow-chow competition, Jenny slips off and enjoys the fair. Conveniently enough, she is wearing her Sunday Best, along with a pink ribbon in her hair. While she is in the line for funnel cake, she meets a young man who offers to buy her an R.C. Cola. But his reputation precedes him...he's bent on leaving her beloved Dixie to become some city slicker! She flees in terror, forgetting her funnel cake. He pursues her onto the Ferris Wheel with funnel cake and R.C. Cola in tow. They stuff themselves full of goodies and then hurl off the top of the Ferris Wheel onto the unsuspecting merry-makers below. Just kidding...they gaze into each other’s eyes and sing a song about their feelings.

When Jenny returns to her parent's R.V. (R.V.?! I don't know...how do these people get to the fair?) she asks her mother if there is such a thing as love at first sight. Tears spring to Mable's eyes as she remembers her long-lost first love. This is all related to us through a strange ballet number that drags on for half an hour.

How does it all end? Does Mable win the chow-chow competition at last? Does Jenny end up with a wedding ring or a broken heart? And, of course, what becomes of our Romeo and Juliet sheep couple. Maybe you'll find out when you come to the 85th Annual Dickson County Fair!

I have gradually been making several small improvements to our home over the past few months. I always dread these chores, but somehow I always end up enjoying them. A few days ago while I was sanding off ancient paint, removing rusty hardware, painting, and getting covered with nastiness, I silently exclaimed, "House, I love you!" Why this unexpected declaration of affection? After all, I was trying to get a big paint job done while Alice was napping, I was missing my favorite TV show, and I was in the middle of an incredible mess. But as the project progressed, I realized I was making myself useful in an important but unglamorous way. All I was doing was fending off decay from a doorframe. It wasn't even a doorframe anyone sees...it was all the way in the basement rec room. But when I thought about it, I knew that what I was really doing was making our home a little bit cleaner, sturdier, and more attractive.

You want to know something shocking? I really like keeping house. Some people have suggested that keeping house and raising children are not activities that are worthy of a woman's full time and attention. These people, though well-versed in their own sense of superiority, are ignorant on the importance of the work done in the domestic sector. Homemaking is not something that will make you famous, pepper you with wealth, or earn you the admiration of your peers. Nonetheless, it is a basic component of life.

I feel there is an art to keeping house, and I strive to become an artist. I didn't always feel this way. Before Alice was born, I hated cleaning. When Alice arrived, my life changed completely. I felt called to stay at home to raise her, but I didn't particularly feel called to run the household. But little by little, I started to embrace my new role. Now I relish it. I like cleaning it, tidying it up, decorating it, and making it a home. Painting, cleaning, beautifying, updating, all these little things we do make our homes better and make our lives better. In my experience, a clean and comfortable home does wonders for family morale.

Some of you have asked me about my housecleaning philosophy and practices. I have just a few
"hints from Heloise" that might make your life a little easier.

1. Come up with a weekly schedule. This has helped me enormously. It keeps my activities evenly spread over the week and keeps me from getting overwhelmed or bored. You will probably have to come up with your own version of this schedule, especially if you work outside of the home. But for an example, this is what my week looks like:

Monday: Grocery shopping, ironing
Tuesday: Watering indoor plants, yard work, sweep porch and deck
Wednesday: Clean kitchen and bathrooms, sort laundry, clean Ani's tank
Thursday: Laundry
Friday: Dusting, sweep/mop/vacuum
Saturday: Wrap up loose ends, do big projects with Clay
Sunday: It's the Christian Sabbath! Aren't you supposed to be resting?

2. The more you clean, the less you have to clean. An unlikely phenomenon, but it's true! If you clean often, dirt and grime won't get a chance to build up, and you won't have to work so hard to keep your house clean. Does your bathtub really need to be cleaned every week? Probably not, but you don't want to have to clean it when it needs to be cleaned. You could end up scraping at it for an hour with a putty knife if you let it go too long. I highly recommend following through with a regular weekly cleaning schedule if you at all are able. That way, if you have to skip a week due to illness, vacation or the like, your house won't become totally foul, and you won’t feel guilty about taking a break.

3. Keep your house in a mostly company-ready state. This goes along with points 1 and 2, but let me flesh this one out a little bit, especially for those of you with kids. Our family has a regular clean-up routine every evening. We help Alice put away her toys, put her books back on her shelf, and locate the scattered contents of Mom's purse. I think it’s really important for Alice to grow up with a sense of tidiness, order, and family cooperation. I think it will give her responsibility of her belongings, a feeling that she is contributing to the well-being of our house and family, and pride over a clean room. After Alice goes to bed, I tidy up her eating area and take care of the dinner dishes. I try to keep my sink empty as much as possible. I hate the sight of dishes lying in the sink, so I try to put up the clean dishes and load the dirty dishes in the dishwasher promptly. I feel like if I keep the mess at bay and want to invite someone over on the spur of the moment, I can feel proud of how the house looks.

4. Try to get the chores done while the kids are awake. It’s not always easy, but I really strive to get my work done while Alice is awake. I feel like she needs to get used to the idea that Mommy has things that need to happen to run the household and cannot always give Alice her undivided attention. Also, I really like for sleep time for Alice is "Me Time" for Mommy. True, I usually iron during her nap. Ever tried to iron with a baby tugging at the cord? Scary! And when needed, I will paint the house, weed the yard and do things that would be difficult or dangerous to do with a child in tow. But usually, I like to relax and watch my favorite design show on TV, make my creations, and use this time as refreshment. It's important to me! I always tell new mothers to make time for themselves and time for their husbands, because if you don’t have that, you will go crazy.

5. Take advantage of "dead time." When waiting for the pasta water to boil or the bread to bake, look around to see if there are any small tasks you can quickly knock out. Time management is a great skill for a homemaker. Having a mental list of what needs to be done is another. If you can marry these two skills, look out! There will be no stopping you!

I'm so pleased to have finally found my calling. It's nothing like what I imagined it would be, but I love it nonetheless. After all, your house is a part of your family. Make it feel at home!

This is my first blog entry in nearly 3 months! My last entry must have been around the time that Alice dropped her morning nap. The result was that Mommy had a lot less "Me Time" and something had to go. Since writing requires long periods of peace and quiet, it was the obvious sacrifice. The trouble is I may have forgotten how to write! That’s the way it is with writing, I think. You have to stay in practice or you get really lazy and rusty.

Well, this blog entry isn't going to be terribly deep. I tend to blog about my philosophical tirades or share my "Do It Yourself" discoveries. But I haven't felt very preachy lately, and I am still in the research phase of my current homemaking experiment. However, I have been musing a bit about the different ways we seek entertainment, especially movies. So here goes.

Clay and I watch a lot of movies. We don't make it to the theater much, but we rent a lot of movies through Netflix. Recently I noticed that my tolerance for the content of movies is much greater than it was even when Clay and I first got married. I don't know if this is good or bad. I think a lot of movies that appear to be really "rough" have powerful messages that really stick with you and make you think. Not so with most "family friendly" movies, in my opinion. So you can't always judge a movie by its rating.

When I was a kid, I didn't watch many movies at all, and I was really easy to spook/offend/scar for life. When I was in day care, my caregivers decided it was a great idea to share Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video with the kids. I think at some point Michael Jackson turned into a werewolf or some such thing. At any rate, I was so terrified by this that I had to go hang out with my infant brother in the Baby Room until the video was over. When my family took us to Disney World, we saw a 3-D movie that featured a wicked witch popping out, saying something about "I'll get you, my pretty." I thought she meant me. Again with the Robsie screaming. When I was at a friend's house, her mom rented "Elvira, Mistress of Darkness," which was both scary and offensive to me. In school, some of my teachers decided teaching was just too hard, so to fill up the hours they were responsible for us, they would often show us movies. I saw Disney's "Aladdin" at least a half a dozen times in school. But most movies I didn't care for at all. "Watcher in the Woods" caused me to scream out loud in my 4th grade classroom. I seriously distrusted the forest around my house for the next 2 years. I pursed my lips in prim disapproval at "Space Camp" and "City Slickers." I wondered what my typing teacher thought "Sister Act" had to do with learning how to use my Qwerty keyboard. But I will never forget the psychological damage I sustained from "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves."

In 7th grade, my math teacher, whose was also a coach (or perhaps I should say, he was primarily a coach) exposed me to this shocking piece of trash. I was 12. That night, I couldn't sleep. Images filled my innocent mind: Alan Rickman murdering poor Mr. Locksley while wearing a scary mask, worshipping Satan at the behest of his ghoulish godmother, and attempting to rape his unwilling bride, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. (Alan Rickman, you should be ashamed of yourself.) I ran into the dining room and told my parents everything. They were pretty incensed. After all I was a captive audience in a public school classroom, and I really needed to be learning, well, math. Shortly thereafter, movies were no longer shown in school unless they were entirely educational. The timing led me to believe that my parents kidnapped the Superintendent of Schools and threatened him with a Bowie knife until he made this proclamation.

Clay and I ware alike in many ways. As it turns out, he was also very sensitive to movies and t.v. as a child. You remember the "very special episodes" of popular t.v. shows that involved serious issues life child abuse, drugs, alcohol, divorce, handicaps and the like? Clay cried over those. Every single time. He was also easily spooked. The scary little vampire kid in "Salem’s Lot" horrified him for a good, long time. When we got married, we decided to watch some of the movies that scared or disturbed us as kids to see if they were, indeed, really scary or disturbing. Clay watched "Salem’s Lot," and I watched "Watcher in the Woods" and "Elvira, Mistress of Darkness" (the latter of which is not AT ALL appropriate for children. Lots and lots of dirty jokes) Finally, I decided to take on "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves." I was really amazed. My perception of it as a kid was that it was an incredibly dark drama with an evil act at every turn. My perception of it as an adult was that it was a fun swashbuckling movie, not unlike "The Mask of Zorro" or even "The Princess Bride." (Also, Alan Rickman was WAY hotter than Kevin Costner.) Still not appropriate to show in school, still pretty intense for sensitive little gals, but not remotely as awful as I remembered.

You know, I have some acquaintances that will not show their children any movies with witches or other types of magic, either good or evil. Of course no "Harry Potter." Not even Disney classics like "Snow White" or "Sleeping Beauty." I think this is really extreme. For one thing, when you see witches in children's movies, they are almost always depicted as people you would not want to get to know. It's not like "Hey, I'm a witch, I'm sexy and lovable." For another thing, in the real world, evil is rarely associated with magic. Therefore, evil is more subtle and not so easy to spot. I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you make your children think that evil is about magic, they become blind to real evils like selfishness, lying, stealing, malice, etc. Kids are smart...give them some credit! How long are they going to shield their children from depictions of evil? What about when they get older and want to see movies like "Grease" and "Dirty Dancing," or even classics like "Casablanca" or "Wuthering Heights." Are they going to give their kids cart blanc to all movies that don't have obvious depictions of cackling magicians? Or are they going to force their children to watch "Veggie Tales" for the rest of their lives?

I really believe that children 1) Should not have a t.v. in their room and 2) Should watch t.v. and movies with their families so they can discuss them. A lot can be gained by asking, "Was Kathy/Ilsa wrong to desire Heathcliff/Rick even though she was already married? Were Sandy and Danny wrong to change themselves so the other would like them more? What was wrong with Baby defying her father's heartfelt warning to sleep with an adult man who is basically a gigolo (okay, so that was leading the witness a little bit, huh?)

Wow, that turned out to be a tirade after all! Yay, Robsie is back in the blogging business.

Howdy, folks. Here’s a friendly reminder to NOT FORGET your mothers and other special gals in your life on Mother’s Day. Sunday, May 10th.

This year as Mother’s Day approaches, I find myself celebrating my role as stay-at-home mom and manager of our household. I was surprised to discover how well this life fits me, and much I enjoy it. I love the deep connection I have with other moms, what my friend Mary calls "the sisterhood". (Makes us sound a little cult-ish, doesn’t it?) I’m always so fascinated by other mom’s opinions, experiences, and approaches to caring for their children. I’m particularly indebted to the mothers from my church, who have supported me with their care and advice from Day One. G.S.P.C. girls are the best!

Lately I’ve been reflecting on Christian culture’s ministry to women. I have to say, it’s a mixed bag. On one hand, we are told that we simply need to pray certain prayers to bring success and prosperity into our lives. On the other hand, we are told that being well-off is evil, especially while there are so many folks suffering in the world. We are torn between a worldly quest for "our best life now" and an ascetic "bare bones" shaking-off of The World. Recently I was thumbing through a Christian Book Distributor catalog with scores of devotional books for women. I have a really hard time deriving anything of substance from inspirational books in general. I don’t know what it is, but they just don’t ring true for me. So I’ve thought about some examples from scripture of women fulfilling their callings as "Keepers of the Hearth."

I've always been troubled by the story of Mary and Martha. Even as a youngster, I felt deep sympathy for Martha. I cannot understand Christ's response to the hardworking young woman who tried so hard to serve him while her sister shirked her chores. OF COURSE sitting around chatting with Jesus is better than standing over a hot stove to make a meal. But why does Christ seem to dismiss the necessity of basic household chores, such as meal preparation? His attitude toward Martha seems dismissive, almost cold. He seems to imply that the earthly, physical life doesn't matter. I'm sure this can't be true. If both sisters had abandoned the kitchen to sit at Christ’s feet, there would have been nothing to eat that day. The Lord would have found himself hungry and possibly aggravated at the girls' lack of hospitality. After all, Christ admonished his friend for failing to provide water to wash his hot, dirty, much-traveled feet.

I was discussing this scene with a dear friend a few years ago. Not yet a believer, this was one of many passages that filled him with doubt. He said he wondered why Christ didn't see Martha struggling and offer to help. To him, Christ's response seemed at best ungentlemanly. It just seems like such a "triple whammy" to dear Martha...left out of an intimate spiritual conversation, slaving in the kitchen alone, then being chided for it by an omnipotent deity. She must have been so humiliated. I think if I had been Martha, I would have said, "This conversation can continue in the kitchen. Over some veggie-chopping and bread-kneading. Hop to it, folks."

Christ loved Martha, as the Bible states when her brother Lazarus suffers an untimely death. And, as he was the Alpha and Omega, I know that what he said was spiritually accurate, and probably less hateful than it seems.

Another example of a woman at work in her home is the Proverbs 31 Woman. Clay and I were discussing her one day. Clay noted that most women he knew loathed this text. I agreed…I think women felt inadequate, embarrassed, and guilty compared to this shining example of womanhood. They feel the text sets an impossible standard, and one that men expect to be fulfilled. But when I delved into this passage, I was surprised to find myself inspired. The woman portrayed in this text is just who I want to be. She is anything but an ascetic. On the contrary, the majority of her time and work is spent seeing to the physical needs of her household. She goes beyond meeting their basic needs and clothes them beautifully, feeds them royally, and provides for them abundantly. She even works outside of the home, buying and tending fields and selling her handmade garments. She is talented, wise, kind, generous and strong. She works hard to make a good life for herself and her family, and it is clear that she loves what she does. Does she set an impossible standard? Probably. I don’t know any woman who possesses all of her attributes. But I know many who posses most of them.

Happy Mother's/Women's Day to all!

Mark Edwards, General Manager
Wal-Mart SuperCenter #264
175 Beasley Drive
Dickson, TN 37055

April 13, 2009

Dear Mr. Edwards,

I am a native Dicksonian who recently returned to my beloved hometown after spending four years in Fairview, TN. Upon my return, I fondly revisited treasured Dickson traditions such as Old Timers' Day, the Dickson County Fair, and shopping on Main Street. I feel that Dickson is the perfect place for my family to settle down and enjoy small town life. One of the things that drew me back to Dickson was our local Wal-Mart. Having lived without a Wal-Mart in Fairview, I was eager to take advantage of the low prices and large selection Wal-Mart offers. Having worked at Wal-Mart as a college student, I was happy to see that many of the friends I made then are still happily working at Wal-Mart.

I am a huge Wal-Mart supporter, and I have defended the company many times to friends who accuse it of unbridled greed, unfairness to its workers, destruction of small businesses, shady ethics and other wrongdoings. I am a young stay-at-home who depends on Wal-Mart to make ends meet.

One of the ways I maintain our family's budget is to make many of my own clothes. My mother taught me to hand sew at a young age and as an adult I learned how to use a sewing machine. This is a hobby I enjoy immensely and take great pride in. Every time I am at Wal-Mart, I stop by the fabric department to check out the remnants and look at the new bolts. Imagine, then, how disappointed and surprised I was when I learned that my hometown Wal-Mart will no longer be carrying fabric. Instead, I was told they are planning to install a "celebration center." I don't know what a "celebration center" offers, but from the description, it's a sorry replacement for my fabric department.

I am all for extending Wal-Mart's services, but not at the expense of services that Wal-Mart have provided for decades. Fabric sales may not be "make" Wal-Mart, but having a small fabric department tucked away in a corner isn't going to "break" it, either. Wal-Mart has carried fabric for as long as I can remember. Before there were SuperCenters with a full selection of groceries, there was a fabric counter. I understand that Wal-Mart has to "keep up with the times," but I think that the vastly wealthy Wal-Mart Corporation can afford to offer this small service to the women of this community. After all, Wal-Mart is pretty much the only company that is making money in this recession.

Without Wal-Mart's fabric department, where am I (and the thousands of women like me) going to get our sewing supplies? The nearest fabric store (Hobby Lobby or JoAnn's) is an hour away from my house. I cannot imagine what the older women in our town are going to do without a handy, nearby source of fabric and notions. I can only hope that this "celebration center" project fails and Wal-Mart sees the error of its ways. Or perhaps a small business can swoop in to rescue us from Wal-Mart's avarice and folly.

I am afraid that Wal-Mart is losing touch with the rural population who made it what it is. Sewing is a way of life for us "country folks." Whether we are sewing quilts, making dolls and doll clothes, creating outfits for ourselves and our children, or coming up with other artful creations, sewing is a means of self-expression. It is an art. Please don't rob the good women of Dickson and surrounding counties of this joy. I fear if you proceed with this plan, there will be no more home-sewn entries at our county fair and a way of life will be gone for good.

Sincerely,

Robyn McKinney

It's a scenario everyone hates: You wake up bleary-eyed and stumble to your closet to find garments with which to cover your nakedness. A desperate search reveals the awful truth, "I have nothing to wear!" Your husband looks at you quizzically, as though he hardly believes you. After all, your closet is stuffed to the gills with clothes. (Usually this uncompassionate husband of yours has successfully worn the same clothes for the past ten years and rarely goes shopping.) But what he doesn't understand is, you really don't have anything to wear.

It's time for you to cull the flock. Most of us are clinging to clothes we haven't been able to wear in ages. Whether out of sentimentality or the crazy belief that we will one day be able to fit into those size 0 jeans, we tend to hang onto clothes we don't need. I really dislike the TV show "What Not to Wear" because the hosts are so rude and uppity, but I do like the idea of an occasional merciless tossing. Trust me; it really is good for you.

Sort through your closet. Physically take everything you can't or don't wear out of the closet and sort it into piles. The unused garments in our closets typically fall into one of three categories:

1. It doesn't look good on me.

2. It doesn't fit.

3. I don't have anything to wear with it.

Categorizing your unworn clothes will make it a lot easier to determine what to do with them. Now that they are sorted in specific piles, you can see what you have and choose what to give away and what to keep.

1. It doesn't look good on me. Okay, first things first. If something doesn't look good on you or you don't feel attractive in it, get rid of it. Now. Fold it up, put it in the Goodwill bag, and send it on its way. You should never allow your clothes make you feel dumpy. If you think you can alter the garment to make it look better on you, have at it. Otherwise, out it goes. Easy enough.

2. It doesn't fit. When you try on the garment, look at it and ask yourself "How badly does this fit me?" Does it make you look like a 2-bit Hussy? Toss it. Is it uncomfortably tight? Toss it. Does it make your spouse/child/dog laugh out loud when they see you in it? Toss it. (Or if the too-small clothes are super-cute, you can give them to a smaller friend of yours, because almost everyone loves free clothes.)

However, if the garment only sort-of doesn't fit, there are several ways it might be altered. Let's say you have a dress that is too short. Cut the dress off at the waist, hem it, and make a shirt. Or let's say you have a dress that is too tight in the bust. Cut it off at the waist, hem it, install a zipper or elastic, and make a skirt. Or if you have a long skirt that is too tight in the waist, you can "move the waist down." You can do this by cutting off the existing waist and installing a zipper or elastic at the "new" waistline, a few inches down from the original one. Skirts are comfortable, very easy to make, and fashionable year-round.

Sleeves are another thing that can be easily altered to suit you. I have several long-sleeved shirts that were too light-weight to be considered "proper winter clothing," so I cut them off at the shoulder or elbow. 3/4 length sleeves are also a good option.

Hoods on shirts are another thing I am fond of chopping off. I've transformed some weird hooded tops into nice-looking sweaters simply by cutting off the hood and hemming. I've also ruined a couple doing this. When chopping off hoods, take note of where the hood begins. In the shoulder area or the neck area? If the hood starts in the shoulder area, it might look better if you don't cut down to the base, but rather cut enough off to add a collar. If the hood starts at the neck, just cut and trim, no further design necessary.

A note on altering clothes: Don't be afraid! The worst that can happen is that you can transform the garment you can't wear into...a garment you can't wear. No loss there. Also, you don't have to own a sewing machine to make these basic alterations. In fact, for a lot of fabrics (such as stretchy fabrics) the result is much nicer if you sew by hand.

3. I don't have anything to wear with it. Let's say you bought an awesome skirt for a great price but have never been able to wear it because you don't have a top to go with it. Keep this needed item in mind when you go shopping. In fact, make yourself a "wish list" of the items you would like to purchase for your incomplete outfits. When you go shopping hunt for these specific items instead of merely "grazing." I know...I love to "graze" too, but it's a good way to wind up with still more incomplete outfits, so be careful. I always head straight to the clearance section of whatever store I'm in. You should try it, because you might be amazed at what you'll find...I've found great items at clearance prices at Wal-Mart, Target, Goodwill, Old Navy, Kohls, etc.

Money is a little tight for most folks right now, which is forcing everyone to take advantage of what they already have and keep their eyes peeled for bargains. This is a good thing. By making the most of the clothes you own and shopping wisely you can make your wardrobe a success even when times are tough.

Oh, those long-lost summer months, how I miss them. How I loved buying huge bags of fresh produce or ransacking my parents' fruit trees to make Alice's baby food. And then the inevitable winter sank its relentless teeth into my fresh fruit and veggie supply. Still, I was determined to try to make my own baby food as much as possible. Here are some thoughts for making one's own baby food in winter.

1. Winter veggies. There aren't many of them out there, but if you keep your eyes "peeled," you can find some good options. I often find sweet potatoes on sale. Carrots and bananas are usually fresh, cheap and tasty year-round. Citrus fruits are at their peak in winter, but be sure your baby is old enough to eat these first...I think they have to be a year old, at least. Winter squash such as acorn and butternut are good options, if you can find them for a good price. I have even found decent avocados for a reasonable price. Every time you go to the grocery, look around and see what is fresh and affordable. Chances are, you can find good options for your baby, even if you'll have to supplement with canned and frozen foods.

2. Canned foods. These are not the first choice when you have other options, but I've found they've worked out just fine for me during winter. Some of Alice's favorite canned fruits are no-sugar added peaches, pears, and canned pumpkin (not canned pumpkin pie filling, just the plain canned pumpkin). I puree the peaches and pears before freezing and storing. The canned pumpkin is good to go as is, but it is good to stir it before freezing, as this greatly helps smooth the consistency. Older babies also enjoy the fruit tidbits from a no-sugar added fruit cocktail.

3. Frozen foods: Older babies enjoy small pieces of veggies, so canned Veg-All or frozen bags of small veggies such as peas and carrots are good options. Alice has recently started eating little pieces of waffles, too. The store-brand frozen kind is very handy...just cook what you need and serve.

4. Cereal and other snacks: Babies love picking up little pieces of cereal, but you don't have to buy the expensive type that is marketed specifically for babies. Alice loves Cheerios, Kix, Chex and any other cereal that is not heavily sweetened. She also enjoys Nutri-Grain bars, cheese crackers, Ritz-type crackers, and animal crackers. She also likes rolls, biscuits, pieces of pancakes, etc. She really enjoys having a variety of snacks available, so I try to keep in interesting.

5. Pasta, beans and other dry goods: Alice likes beans and pasta, but she is still too little to eat a whole bowl of it, so I share mine when I cook it. She likes black beans and peas especially. These are good for babies, as they are loaded with protein and vitamins. I have also purchased potato flakes for mashed potatoes, but she still finds this a little too heavy. Still, I think it will be a good option for her later.

6. Dairy: Thank God for dairy products! Alice loves string cheese, milk, and yogurt, and is now old enough to eat eggs. Dairy is super good for older babies. It can be difficult to get baby interested in whole milk, especially if they are in the process of being weaned from the breast and are not used to cold beverages. Just be patient, and baby will come around. I've found that Alice is more comfortable when she uses a cup with a straw rather than a sippy cup.

As your baby gets older, they will be able to eat more and more "big person" food. Alice is showing interest in what mommy and daddy eat. Sometimes I will give her a bite to see if she is interested in adding to her food repertoire. I've been surprised by the things she likes, so I have learned to keep an open mind, be imaginative, and watch for her developing tastes.

If you are like me, attending a funeral is probably the last place you want to spend your day. Still, if you are like me, you have probably undergone the Funeral Experience more than once. I have attended my fair share of funerals. In addition to having buried three of my grandparents, I have also mourned the loss of several family members and friends along the way. Recently it struck me that we in America really don't do such a great job of handling death. We spend our whole lives clinging desperately to the ideals of youth and health and beauty. We refuse to acknowledge the reality of death, and indeed it seems that in our culture, it is the last great taboo. When our loved ones die, we send them to the Great Beyond in an anemic display of vanilla blandness. This is truly tragic. There is a sense in which our entire lives are looking toward the day we die. Why, then, are our lives not celebrated more when we pass away? Why do our lives have to peter out with such a fizzle of disappointment?

I submit to you that it is high time for Funeral Reform. Here are some ideas for reinventing the funeral experience.

1. Evacuate the House of Death: Funeral homes are places of absolute silence, bad artwork, ghastly lighting, and terrible pre-recorded music. They are places you can't wait to get out of. One of the reasons for this is that they don't provide a lot of variety in the way they process funerals...they really do just have one way of doing things. Funeral homes often boast that they treat the dead and their families with dignity. Unfortunately, in their minds, dignified equals boring. Funeral homes are important, no doubt, for the necessary behind-the-scenes preparation of the body. But that's no reason to linger there for the actual funeral. I think I've only attended one funeral that didn't take place in a funeral home. Why is this? I suppose funeral homes are the most convenient places, but they are by no means the best.

2. This time, it's personal: As I look back on the funerals I have attended, it can be hard to distinguish one from another. Most of them are blanketed in a fuzzy, nondescript haze. Funerals should be a time to remember the deceased in full color. Bring in your photographs and stories. Ditch the pre-recorded music and have everyone sing the person's favorite songs. Dress the deceased in their favorite garments, not the most somber thing you can find. Surround them with things they liked in life. If they were avid quilters, display the quilts they were proudest of. If they collected jade elephants, bring in their favorite piece. If they loved Italian food, cater their favorite meal and enjoy it as a family. Yes, funerals are times for solemnity, but they should also be personal and meaningful.

3. To Pastorize or not to Pastorize? I don't understand the ubiquitous presence of a preacher at funerals, even if the deceased never darkened the door of a church and in fact shot at preachers as they walked past his house. Nothing is more uncomfortable than listening to a preacher praise the devout personal holiness of a person who was widely regarded as a bonafide heck-raiser. Why is religion suddenly on everyone's mind when someone dies? Why does the family trick the preacher into thinking Uncle Bob is now safe in the arms of Jesus when they know it's not true? On the other hand, if the deceased was a Christian, then their funeral is so much more worshipful and honest if it is performed by a preacher who knew the deceased instead of just some fella who you hired out of the phonebook.

4. Invest in some nice cemetery statuary: If there is anything more loathsome than a funeral home, it's a cemetery. Grungy-looking fake flowers, identical grave markers, and ugly knickknacks make a cemetery one place I dread ending up. When we lived in Fairview, I often drove past graves that were decorated for the season, even if that season was Halloween! There were actual, physical ghost decorations on these people's graves! Ugh! Whatever happened to beautiful cemetery statues, or even simple, beautiful crosses? Your grave is where your body is going to rest until the end of the world. It might as well look nice.

5. Find something more original than the 23rd Psalm and "Amazing Grace." Seriously, people. The Bible is full of appropriate scripture readings, and the hymnal is full of appropriate songs. Find one that will cause people to really think, really mourn, really worship.

Death is a hard thing to wrap your brain around. It never comes at the right time, and often there isn't a lot of time to prepare for it. That's why everyone needs to help their families out by having some idea of what they want their funeral to be like. Grieving people are not the most creative people, and your family is not going to be in the mood to make a lot of artistic decisions regarding your funeral. We spend years planning our weddings, months planning the births of our children, so it's only right to spend a little time planning how you want to say goodbye. Your family will want to look back on your funeral fondly. You could help make something that is difficult and painful into something that they will hold dear to their hearts.

Tomorrow Clay and I will celebrate our beautiful, brilliant daughter's first birthday. This has been the most extraordinary year of my life, and I reflect on it with a cocktail of emotions that not even I can fully express or even understand.

Sometimes I am still amazed with the realization that I am a mother. It is a wonderful and mysterious relationship. Motherhood is so common, and yet so miraculous. During my pregnancy, I could never completely grasp the sheer glory of carrying a living and growing child within me. I was watching a great documentary on childbirth the other day (The Business of Being Born, which I highly recommend as food for thought.) Every time a baby was born, my mouth dropped open in astonishment at the beauty of a baby emerging from a woman's body. I cheered, I wept...I couldn't comprehend it. I remember the first time I saw Alice, I thought, "I can't believe how beautiful she is. I can't believe this perfect baby just came out of me!"

Before Alice was born, I told Clay that we shouldn't try to have any expectations or even try to prepare ourselves mentally for Alice's birth. I knew there was no way we could ready ourselves for adding a child to our lives. There was no way to know what it would really be like. I was right. Nearly every aspect of my life has changed. The adjustment was a very difficult one for me, and it took me a long time to heal from the emotional and physical upheaval of childbirth. Everything was a challenge for me. It felt like I couldn't do anything right and nothing was going well. Everything seemed dark and frightening and irreparable. Sometimes I didn't think I would live through it. But I did live. And eventually, I thrived.  In spite of the rocky start, this has been the best year of my life.

The other day, I was chatting with a friend about the phrase "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." We both mocked this idea, and my friend said that there are plenty of things that may not succeed in actually doing us in, but leave us plenty worse for wear. This is true for many things, but not for parenthood. Parents are forced to face the uncomfortable truth that they MUST get stronger because they CANNOT lie down and give up! Though time may not heal all wounds, there is also a sense in which it does heal the cuts and bruises we encounter as we learn to parent. That is something I often tell new moms, although it sounds like dismal advice. After all, you can't rush time. You can't implore it or earn its pity. There's no way through it but through it. But I hope that my forecast will give new moms hope that help is on the way, that it will get better. A mother once told me that parenting gets better all the time. So far, she was right.

What I feel most today is pride and perhaps relief. I am so proud of Alice. I love to show her off, talk about her, and just be around her. I was surprised to find what great, fun company she is! She is growing and learning so much. I'm also proud of myself. I've taken some really hard knocks, but I have not given up. I'm proud that I kept nursing her even through the hard times. I'm proud that I am able to nurture her. I'm proud of how much I've grown as a person. But my pride is tempered by the knowledge that I still have such a long way to go. I never realized what a selfish, impatient person I was until I had a child! A dear friend told me that motherhood stretches you in ways you can't possibly imagine. Boy, was she right! I often feel that I've taken up a strenuous gauntlet only to trip and blunder at every turn. I am often so disappointed when I am revealed to be far less than perfect. Though I never will be perfect, I hope that as the years go by, I will strive to get better and better at mothering. I hope that Alice will always feel my love for her and that I will do right by her.

If you know me well, you probably have heard me talk about my great love of art. It is a love that spans many nations and eras. In the past decade or so, my appreciation of art has transformed from a mild interest to a full-fledged voracity. I recall walking the galleries of the Tate Museum at the tender age of 17, gazing stupidly at the masterpieces like a sleepy cat. At age 20, I tore through the Met one Sunday afternoon, trying to gulp in as much art as I could before my plane left. By the time I was 21, I had developed a academic language for art appreciation and was able to thoroughly enjoy the Louvre. In my adult life, I continue to visit galleries (large and small) whenever I can, and at this point, I have had the opportunity to experience a huge amount of art. I crave art, and I'm constantly refining my artistic ideals. I have the broadest range of artistic tastes of anyone I know. It's something I've worked hard on and am very proud of.

Being a art connoisseur has its frustrations, though. Usually these frustrations arise when I find myself insulted or even assaulted by a conceited artist. Time after time I have enjoyed a piece of art (usually a postmodern piece) and glanced down to read the artist's explanation of their piece. What awaits there is usually a sharp, stinging slap in the face. I have actually seen art that I initially loved, only to find out that the artist's work celebrated such things as bizarre sexual practices, excrement and other base subjects. This weekend, I visited a gallery and noticed a beautiful brocade fabric collage. The piece was somewhat abstract, so nothing could have prepared me when the artist testified that it was her desire to elevate the "lowered consciousness" of housewives with her art. As a housewife and stay-at-home mom, the statement wounded me and outraged me at the same time.

I can't tell you how many books, films, paintings, and other creative works that have been created to bemoan the plight of housewives. Artists have swallowed the juicy, irresistible notion that housewives are repressed, trapped, and, yes, desperate. The stereotype of the starched-but-stale 1950's family is one that artists have created and perpetuated with relish. Artists regard housewives with an odd concoction of sympathy and disgust. Surely these women must loathe their lives. Surely they must secretly despise their husbands and resent their children. Surely they long to escape, but find themselves paralyzed by a traditional society. So they dust the furniture, fluff their hair, and pretend that everything is just peachy. It is a cruel, untrue fantasy dreamed up by conceited people with no personal experience with housewives. It must stop.

Another painting in the collection noted the disapproval of the artist for what he called "the haves and the have-nots." It depicted several couples happily dancing with images of human sorrow swarming all around them. How could these rich people dress up and go out on the town and enjoy themselves in the world full of catastrophic despair? I suppose the artist wants us to permanently lay aside our joy and spend our lives moping for the sick and poor. More likely, he wants us to all "redistribute" our wealth so that everyone in the whole world is sick and poor. Because misery loves company. I am by no means rich, and I am by no means uncompassionate or uneducated, but that just doesn't seem like a feasible solution. I am not inclined to abandoning the things I enjoy. Nor is the artist, I am inclined to believe. It is a vicious, destructive myth that communism is the answer to our problems. In fact, when I think of communism, I think of widespread fear, hunger, disease, and poverty. Capitalism is not the enemy. In fact, it is the best path to health, wealth, freedom, and happiness.

These pieces and many like them display the current culture's disdain for traditional morals and values. In the art we view and the movies we watch and the books we read, we see the erosion of the qualities our nation was built on. Conservatives are mocked as brutish, unevolved clowns. Sexual restraint is mocked as prudish and impossible. Drug abstinence is mocked as a myth (even the president-elect admits to habitual drug use in his youth.) Family life is mocked as a bore or a dysfunctional circus. Hard work is mocked as greed. God is mocked as unwise, unjust, unreasonable, unloving, nonexistent or even dead. Meanwhile, violence is becoming more violent, rebellion more rebellious, and shock more shocking. Eventually, everything is revealed as meaningless, irrelevant, or morally ambiguous. It's a sucker-punch in the stomach that leaves you with empty and with no place to go.

My new heroine is Ginny Ruffner. She created magnificent, whimsical sculptures made from glass and metal. People ask her why she makes something so happy when she could use her art to bring attention to the world's problems. But who among us is unaware of the world's problems? In fact, who among us isn't relentlessly hounded and worn down by images of as world in trouble? Instead, her goal is to bring some joy into people's lives. She is such a ray of light. She doesn't come up with some vague, spiritual, pretentious artist's statement. She doesn't go on and on about "the human condition." She makes beautiful art that makes brightens people's lives. Beautiful, honest art is something of a rarity in the postmodern art world, and it is so refreshing to me.

My family, like many families out there, is having to get a little creative as we celebrate this Christmas season. Though our holiday expenditures have never been exorbitant, we are making every effort to cut back. In fact, cutting back has sort of been the theme of this year. I became a stay-at-home mom in January, and my husband lost his job recently. As the economy has worsened over the past few months, many folks now find themselves a little strapped for cash. It can be a real struggle to adjust to living with less if you've always enjoyed the luxury of being able to spend without thinking. As I mentioned in a July 2008 blog posting, life as a recovering therapeutic shopper can be uncomfortable, but it can also be liberating.

How many of you have given or received a perfectly useless item just because gift-giving seemed necessary? Perhaps you had to purchase a gift for a Dirty Santa game at an office Christmas party. You didn't want to add a cheap or lame gift, unless it was so cheap or lame that it's humorous. Maybe you suspected that your co-worker was going to give you a gift, so you had to make a pre-emptive strike and cut her off at the gift-giving pass. You searched high and low for something simple and classy...something that says, "Oh, here's a nice little trinket that I thought you might enjoy, but I promise I didn't put much time into finding it, because that would make things awkward, especially if I'm wrong and you didn't get me anything." Then you had to get just the right thing for the boss, who was just impossible. After a desperate gift search, you hysterically whipped up a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies the day before the office closed for Christmas. And he loved them! He raved about them for weeks! His wife begged you for the recipe! But you still felt guilty that you didn't blow a wad of cash on that electronic gizmo that does...something (but you're not quite sure what). But for a fleeting moment, you saw what Christmas should be about...giving someone something simple, something they like, and something you gave from your heart and your talents.

I've heard people bemoan the commercialism of Christmas time and time again. I've heard people complain up one side and down the other about having to shop for people who are hard-to-buy-for and will only return your gift for store credit. I have seen people go into debt with the excuse of "Christmas comes but once a year!" I've seen so many people just give up on trying to find an actual, physical gift and get a shopping card. They almost always get a shopping card in return...what is the point of that? For whatever reason, we Americans are compelled to buy. Our eyes scan the store for something, anything that might work. Our hearts race as we wonder if our gift will be acceptable to our recipient.

The only thing that could put a stop to the commercialism of Christmas is a global economic downturn. Ta-da! Wish granted. Now people simply can't afford to pour the kind of money into gift-giving that they used to. They have to think about keeping a roof over their heads and food on the table. People are scaling way back on their holiday spending, which forces them to get creative. Whereas folks used to blow money on whatever popped into their heads, they now have to sit down and say, "Okay, I have this amount I can spend on my husband/child/friend. How can I stretch this money, get as much as I can for it, and give them something they will enjoy?"

My answer to this is perhaps a bit unusual and extreme: I'm making most of my Christmas gifts. I don't have an income, but what I do have is time and talent. That is what I'm giving this Christmas. I'm spending a small amount on supplies, making the most of the supplies I have already, and enjoying the process. It really has made gift-giving more personal and meaningful. I do miss shopping for gifts, but I don't miss stalking down a gift or recklessly swiping at the first semi-suitable gift I see.

I have been enjoying the "Little House" series, and I am always amazed at how resourceful the Ingalls family was. Their Christmases, though meager by our standards, were celebrations of their love and thoughtfulness. I was touched by the account of Mr. Edwards selflessly traversing the treacherous cold to deliver Santa's gifts to the children on the lonely prairie. I shared the excitement of the surprise gifts the church gave the family in Plum Creek. I was impressed with the family's ability to create and hide away gifts for each other in their home on Silver Lake, and especially how clever they were to provide gifts for their surprise Christmas guests. It was a time when children still looked forward to the mysteries of Christmas with wonder. This was before Christmas got out of control. When I think about "out of control" Christmases, I'm always reminded of the scene in "Babe" where the bratty granddaughter opens the beautifully handcrafted doll house her grandfather has lovingly created for her. She takes one look at it and bursts into tears. "It's the wrong one! I wanted the one I saw on TV!" she shrieks.

Maybe this economic "crisis" will encourage folks to slow down as they celebrate Christmas and the coming new year. Maybe folks will pile the family in the car and drive around to admire their neighbors' Christmas lights. Maybe they will take up Christmas caroling. Maybe they will whip up hot chocolate and homemade goodies and watch Christmas movies. Maybe they will see how much they already have and enjoy it more. Maybe those Christmas mysteries will come alive once again.

I have lots of personal experience with long-lost friends. For one thing, I have always struggled with social anxiety, so finding real friendship isn't easy for me in the first place. I've always felt like I was different...not like other people. Indeed, I still don't share common interests with many people. When someone came along whom I identified with, I felt so relieved! When I was able to form a comfortable, honest friendship with someone, it was a rare and beautiful thing. It made me feel valuable and at peace. With the exception of my marriage and my family, though, this closeness never lasted long enough. I would form an intimate friendship, only to have it interrupted by graduation, a move, a job change, a church change, or the like.

As they left me (or as I left them), I knew that an annual coffee date or an occasional e-mail, or even a daily Facebook snippet would not be the same as a face-to-face, day-to-day friendship. I would go through a real period of sadness, even mourning, but I would tell myself it was better to love and lose than never to have loved at all. I would tell myself "That which does not kill you makes you stronger." I would tell myself how brave I had been, and how good it was that I valued my friend so much. Now I am cautious. No, it's worse than that. I have stopped forming close friendships with people I like because I know it won't last. Why would I want to put myself through that again? After a dozen times or so, I've learned to keep people at arm's length. As a result, I am a very lonely person. I'm used to it, true enough. I would be really uncomfortable if suddenly a friend asked me to go shopping with them or have dinner. I'm set in my ways, it seems. Still, I long for other people.

We live in an ever-shifting, ever-mobile, ever-restless culture which, I confess, I don't understand. This culture bothers me. I'm an old-fashioned girl, a home girl. I'm happiest when I'm in my hometown and near my family. While others revile the rosy, 1950's stereotype of a happy housewife in a happy home in a happy little town, I idealize this. I find myself daydreaming about how nice it would be to live in the same community with the same people my whole life, even if that meant living near people I don't care for. Wouldn't it be fun to live near the same nosy neighbor, the same stuck-up former classmate, even the same slack-jawed ex-boyfriend? They would become constants in your life, and I enjoy constancy. I like knowing what to expect.

I was born smack in between Generation X and Generation Y. My Generation X friends would be happy to strum their guitars with their buddies in their parents' basement for the rest of their lives, but eventually they had to grow up and get out of the house. It is my ambitious Gen Y friends who have lead the way to our society's disregard for the setting down of roots. These jet-setting young people are so connected, electronically speaking, and yet so detached. In their attempt to focus on everything, they end up becoming splintered. Trying to get and keep their attention is discouraging. They are so career-oriented, so set on promotions, graduate school, deadlines, and tenaciously chasing their dreams. They are friendly and eager, but their minds are always somewhere else. These folks don't seem to mind their portable lives. Was I the only one who longed for lasting attachments?

Perhaps my ideals were just a silly fancy. Perhaps I'd been watching too much "Anne of Green Gables." Perhaps what I needed was someone else's perspective. So I asked someone who has vast experience with this mobile culture...a college professor. As the head of a small, close-knit department, I decided he would be an expert on intimate-but-temporary friendships. I thought his attitude would be a casual one. I thought he would say, "Yes, it's rather sad to see the good ones move on, but since they are making their own way in the world, it's a happy time, too." Blah, blah, blah. But that's not what he said. I was surprised to find that, at least in some cases, the loss was excruciating.

My solution to living in this busy, fleet-footed society has been to cut myself off from it. Most people's solution is to care less. In this culture of celebrating the healthy and natural, neither is really a healthy or natural approach to dealing with other people. One shouldn't have to chose between becoming reclusive or becoming apathetic. Is there another way? Is it possible that the right choice is to forge close ties and risk them being broken? Can that actually be good for us? Is it really better to love and lose than never to have loved at all? It seems like a precarious way to lead one's life. But at the rate we are moving, it may be the only way.

For Mother's Day 2008, I blogged about my admiration for working moms. I was planning to extol the virtues of my fellow stay-at-home-moms next Mother's Day, but I find that I can't wait any longer. The infamous Mommy Wars have found their way to my front door, and it seems that I need to defend myself. It amazes me how something that was once so ubiquitous as a stay-at-home mom should now be such a dangerous novelty. While it shouldn't be necessary for me to offer any explanations or excuses for my choice to stay at home with Alice, perhaps what is needed here is a clarification of why we S.A.H.M.s take the old-fashioned route instead of the expressway to the top of the corporate ladder.

You know, Erma Bombeck once described motherhood as the second oldest profession. Women have been raising their babies for millennia. But only recently has it been the norm for women to raise kids and work outside of the home. Since World War II, we have seen the development of the working mom and the dual income home. This is great! Having two incomes usually means more money and thus a higher standard of living than folks were used to in the past. There's no doubt that working moms have brought increased prosperity to our nation. Nicer houses, more vacations, and better Christmas gifts for the youngsters are all good things. But sometimes when mom works outside of the home, children are raised without quality parental interaction and supervision, with a sense of entitlement, and with skewed priorities. These are some of the things that have caused so many women to decide to become S.A.H.M.s

In December 2005, journalist and self-proclaimed philosopher Linda R. Hirshman published an article in the "progressive" magazine The American Prospect. The article (and the subsequent Washington Post article) stated that S.A.H.Ms were hurting themselves and hurting society by wasting their intellect and education on housekeeping and raising children. She said that S.A.H.Ms' lives did not involve risks and rewards and that they were not honored and respected. Ouch! Clearly, we are not honored and respected by, say, radical feminist liberals. But that doesn't mean that we are not honored and respected in general, and it certainly doesn't indicate that we are not worthy of honor and respect.

Women have the singular gift of being able to conceive, carry and give birth to children. Women have throughout history tended to be nurturers. We are even able to sustain a child through breastfeeding. Our biological link to our children has bound them to us. It is this bond that S.A.H.Ms have reclaimed and celebrated. Children do not raise themselves. Someone has to care for them. It might as well be their moms. This is not child worship or domestic slavery to one's husband. This is simply a natural method of child rearing that has been proven to work throughout history and around the world. One might say it is what we as women were made for.

S.A.H.Ms are not idle. Mothering and housekeeping are hard jobs with few breaks and no vacations. We are not ignorant or repressed. The S.A.H.Ms I know are brilliant, educated, creative, and happy women. I personally find my life as a S.A.H.M much more rewarding and enjoyable than the years I spent in a drab office with artificial plants. Yes, I actually enjoy hanging out with my baby. I like keeping house. I have decided that this is the better life. No one is allowed to judge me for that. No one is allowed to tell me that I have chosen poorly. I am not responsible for any stalls in feminism, unless it is the evil kind that needs to be stalled.

Linda Hirshman suggests that my children will not see me as a strong role model because I don't have a elite career. She thinks I won't be able to stimulate their intellect and get them to make something of themselves. On the contrary. Stimulating our childrens' minds is one of the reasons we S.A.H.Ms have made this choice. I plan to instill my kids with a love of reading, art, history, and God. Linda Hirshman chalks the S.A.H.M craze up to a bunch of wacko fundamentalists. Of course, I should have suspected that this would boil down to persecution of Christian ideals. But, yes, to be honest, my religious beliefs did contribute to my life as a S.A.H.M. What of it?

If my daughter grows up to become a S.A.H.M herself, that doesn't mean she was raised without a concept of her own potential. Life is not about cash and career. Life is not about fancy meals, lots of nice powersuits, and the best house in Brentwood. We've cut back a lot since Alice was born. We usually eat at a restaurant once a week. We spend a lot of time at Wal-Mart. We get most of our clothes from Goodwill. It's been an adjustment. But we love it! We don't miss our old, childless lives.

This weekend, a relative asked what I was doing these days. I told him I was staying at home with Alice. He replied, "That’s a luxury that most people don't get to enjoy." Well, friend, luxurious isn't the word I would use. Try "sacrifice." Come to think of it, perhaps it is sacrifice that Linda Hirshman cannot abide. She is horrified by the idea of a woman sacrificing a life of self for a life of service to someone so unworthy as a husband and a child. She is determined that women should not be inconvenienced by a needy infant, and nothing should stand in the way of the quest for a corner office, a better title, and a larger salary. But what happens when the nanny is the one your child reaches for, who gets to witness all the precious milestones? I say: If you aren't going to be there for your kids, don't have any.

Recently I retrieved a box of childhood treasures from my parents' home. Among the dolls and long-forgotten art projects, there it lay nestled: my first work of fiction, "True Love in the Grand Canyon." I opened the volume hesitantly, unsure of the extent of the inevitable chagrin I would feel after reviewing this childish fancy. As it turned out, the story (which was no doubt tempered in its silliness by my co-author Ginger) was a delight. We all got a huge kick out of it and laughed at something I once intended to be taken seriously.

Sometimes I think of myself in my childhood form, and wonder what Young Robyn would say if she knew how she would turn out. Some things I'm sure would win her approval: Handsome, loving husband. Sweet, beautiful baby. A lovely home with nice things to look at and eat. Some things might excite her: "I will outgrow this training bra one day and won't be called 'Bandaids' anymore!" Some things might ignite her hope and give her something to look forward to, "I will never stop learning. I will constantly refine my tastes in art and music. I will never find an end to my desire for beauty and creativity. I will always seek a deeper understanding of God." Some things might keep her up at night, "Depression will haunt me all the days of my life." And some things might cause her to shake her head with amused indulgence, "I can't believe I leave the house wearing those shoes. That dress is perfect for Tacky Day. And my taste in jewelry has gone tribal."

But there is one thing that I'm sure would infuriate Young Robyn: what I do now that I'm grown up. You see, the young author of "True Love in the Grand Canyon" intended to be a great writer. Nothing less than national fame and a reputation as a child prodigy would do. A teacher of mine once claimed I would be the next Victoria Holt. I took this to heart. I was certain that one day I would be appreciated on a level that would blow my fellow schoolchildren out of the water and cause them to rethink their treatment of me. When Young Robyn got a little older, the stage was her certain calling. She would be discovered, work at Opryland for a while, then Broadway, and finally a movie career. Of course, she would be a popular country music singer along the way. I wrote copious amounts of poetry as a teenager. I forced myself to write short stories and poetry even when I was tired or didn't feel like it. I kept a meticulous record of my daily life in my journal, certain that one day I would be my generation's Samuel Pepys. I neglected my family so I could exercise my writing skills. Instead of visiting my aging grandparents on Saturday, I wrote short stories. Writing, it seems, has been my longest dream.

I'm not a great writer. I'm not a great actress. Nor am I a singer. Nor a poet. I'm not famous. In fact, I have no career at all. I’m a housewife and a stay-at-home mom. I am, in a way, ordinary. A life wasted in a quest to become something special has boiled down to cleaning, cooking, and raising a child. My poor grandparents have all passed away but my grandmother on my dad's side, who is in poor health. And all of those short stories, all the poems, and all the journals have been destroyed. By me. I couldn't stand to have them around anymore. Because they are all terrible. Not just terribly written. Not just silly or stupid. It's worse than that. When I read them, I get a horrible feeling that there was something the matter with me. That I wasn't normal. That I was sick somehow. That my imagination was a wild tangle of nonsense. Everything I worked so hard on is gone. Everything, that is, but "True Love in the Grand Canyon." This single story is my monument to an abandoned dream.

Ask a child what he wants to do when he grows up, and you will get many wild and wooly answers. "Doing" something with your life is an expectation we all anticipate, and we dream many dreams before our true fate is realized. When you meet someone new, one of the first questions they ask is "What do you do?" We are marked by what we do, we are identified. What we do is who we are. Perhaps a better way to look at ourselves and others is not doing, but just being. To be happy, to be kind, to be alive.

I suppose what I have learned from this long and at times extremely painful journey is that, though childhood dreams and creativity should be encouraged and explored, there is nothing wrong with being ordinary. As I return to my childhood hometown, I embrace the ordinary more and more. I love Wal-Mart, Old Timer’s Day, the County Fair, and hanging out with my family. These are the things that make me happy! This is the lesson I want to give to my daughter. I wish I had learned a long time ago that being friendly, that loving people and praying for them, and that seeking a life lead by God is a much better way to attract people’s affection that trying to show them how talented you are and seeking a treacherous dream of fame.

When the time comes for your baby to start on solids, you might find yourself staring gape-mouthed from sticker shock at the price of commercial baby food. Perhaps you might consider making baby food yourself. I’m here to tell you that it is probably a lot easier than you might think.

Commercial baby food is great, make no mistake. It is convenient, portable, and babies love it. But it can be a little pricey. The trouble with commercial baby food is that all different varieties are generally priced the same, from plain old bananas or carrots to papaya-mango delight. Well, bananas and carrots are cheap and readily available year-round at any grocery store (not to mention that you get a pretty big yield of baby food from a batch of bananas or a bag of carrots). Papayas, mangos, and other seasonal fruits are at their peak for a brief time each year. Therefore, you might be willing to pay what Gerber is asking for papaya-mango delight, but balk at the price of a jar of bananas or carrots.

Sometimes you will save lots of money making your own baby food. Sometimes you will come out about the same if you bought the jars. The trick is taking advantage of what is in season and what is cheap. What I like about making my own baby food is 1) I know exactly what is in it, 2) Very little waste, 3) Good old American do-it-yourself attitude, 4) I feel like there is a greater variety of fruits and vegetables to choose from when you make your own baby food, such as avocados, eggplants, pumpkins, etc. There are many fruits and veggies that make great homemade baby food and some that don’t. I’ll try to help you figure out which is which.

What you’ll need:

A baby food mill, blender, smoothie maker or the like
Ice cube trays
Lots of small plastic baggies (fold-top is cheapest option and works fine. These are reusable…just wash in hot soapy water and drip dry on a bottle drying rack.)
Gallon-sized freezer bags marked with contents and date

Preparation methods vary for each fruit/veggie, so for detailed information on nutritional information and cooking directions, I HIGHLY recommend: http://www.wholesomebabyfood.com

Hint from Heloise:

When pureeing baby food, my rule of thumb is: When you think its smooth enough, blend it a little longer for good measure! This is especially true for some of the tougher fruits and veggies. Adding water helps a lot when trying to get a smooth consistency.

You’ll find that the frozen baby food doesn’t pop out of the ice cube trays as easily as, well, ice. It’s a lot stickier and thicker. You may find that running a little warm water on the bottom of the tray helps get the food out. I usually use a small butter knife to help pop them out. Then store in individual fold-top baggies and place in a large gallon bag.

Beginners will usually eat just one ice cube of baby food at a time. Older babies will eat more…you will figure out your child’s appetite as you go. The ice cube route is great because you only thaw as much as you need, so there is very little waste.

To thaw your baby food, place the desired portion in the fridge for a few hours. Or, if you are like me and can’t think that far ahead, place the bagged food in a bowl of hot water to thaw. I usually microwave the water for 30 seconds and place the baggies in for 10 minutes or so.

Oh, no! Your bananas have turned all brownish in the freezer! Don’t worry…lots of fruits and veggies turn brown when exposed to the air, but they are still fine to feed your baby.

Baby food will keep in your freezer for 2 months, so don’t make more than you’ll use in that time frame. Still, it is great to keep a variety of fruits and veggies on hand to keep baby interested in mealtime.

I have not had much success with making green sweet peas into baby food. I have trouble getting it smooth enough thanks to the skins. Green beans fare a little better but can still be tricky. These might be better foods to add later when baby has more teeth!

I think the fruits and veggies that make the best baby foods are: peaches, applesauce, bananas, sweet potatoes, avocados and squash (yellow, butternut, acorn, etc.). These are the foods I would start off with for a beginner.

Maybe you have friends who would like to donate the surplus veggies from their garden. Take advantage of these free veggies! Even if they aren’t as pretty as the store-bought produce, they’ll make lovely baby food.

Avocados are on sale for 50 cents each! Too bad they’re still green. That’s okay…place them in a paper bag for a couple of days, and they will probably ripen fairly quickly. From what I understand, the paper bag trick works with a most fruits and veggies. This is as great way to take advantage of sales. Even if the produce still isn’t at the peak of perfection, keep in mind that it will be pureed, and it probably won’t matter much.

Beware of potential allergens (tomatoes, strawberries, etc.) and add these foods as they come appropriate for your child’s stage of development.

There is a place for commercial baby food, just like there is a place for disposable diapers. The jars are great when you are traveling, out on the town, or any time that carrying your little cooler of baby food is a hassle. Happy feeding!

I have several newsflashes about green products that I have recently discovered:

Nicole by OPI nail color: This new line of fast-drying nail lacquer is DBP, Toluene and Formaldehyde free. It is not tested on animals, and the packaging is recyclable. Thirty-six shades available, although Wal-Mart (where I found mine) currently carries about 15 or so. Also available is Nic's Sticks, which is handy, portable pen-sized nail lacquer. Available in 24 shades. I paid about $7.00 for one bottle, which is more than I usually pay for nail polish (which isn't saying much...I usually just pick up whatever is cute in the $1.00 range!) But I love this nail color, and it is great to know that there is something safe my daughter can wear when she becomes interested in such things.

Clorox Green Works: I have converted most of my cleaning supplies to Melaleuca, but I really enjoyed the Green Work bathroom cleaner, dilutable all-purpose cleaner, and toilet cleaner. Reasonable price, pleasant smell, and best of all, no gagging on rogue Comet particles!

Palmolive Eco Dishwasher Detergent: I love this stuff! It is phosphate-free, and it works great! I'm currently using the Melaleuca dish detergent. Its okay, but once I ran the dishes on Friday, left for the weekend, opened the dishwasher on Sunday night, and was greeted with a horrific smell. Apparently the Melaleuca detergent is not meant to be sealed in for very long. Hmm. Palmolive Eco is available at Wal-Mart.

Elemental fragrance jars: I have two guinea pigs, a turtle and a baby, all of which can be stinky in their own special ways. These organic and earth-friendly fragrance jars are a good alternative to candles or spray air fresheners. Of course, keep them well out of reach of aforementioned pets and babies. Available at Wal-Mart.

Gerber prefolds: That's right, folks! Gerber now carries prefold diapers! Previously, if you were going to buy diapers from a store, you would have to settle for the flat, fold-it-yourself type. Not anymore! These prefolds are great. They are a lot thinner than the kind you buy from a cloth diapering site, but that means that they aren't as bulky, so baby doesn't have a ghetto-booty. That also means that you can pack a lot more of them in your diaper bag. They are made from the birdseye fabric, so they rinse out nicely to boot. And best of all, they are conveniently located at Wal-Mart or Target for at least half the price of buying diapers online. I would still recommend using a thicker diaper for naptime and night, but the Gerber prefolds are great for waketime. Gerber also carries pull-on diaper covers, but since these are made from vinyl and contain phthalates, I hesitate to recommend them. Still, I do use them from time to time, and they are very pretty and fit baby nicely.

Cloth diapering station: I don't know about you, but I simply don't have room for a changing table in Alice's nursery. But I really needed a handy place to store Alice's diapers and diapering paraphernalia. So I came up with this little cloth diapering cart. You can buy this four-shelf wire cart (from Wal-Mart...guess where I shop a lot) for about $10.00. There is a place for your wipe warmer, aloe vera, diaper rash ointment, and such on top. Your diaper covers, doublers, etc can fit on the bottom. That leaves two shelves for prefolds, which is usually plenty. I use a changing pad placed in Alice's crib as a changing surface.

Quilt Skirts: Perhaps you have the urge to make yourself something pretty, but you're running low on cash. Consider making a quilted skirt, apron or other garment. I made a quilted skirt from bits and pieces of old pajamas and fabric scraps. Then I just used a skirt pattern as usual. I keep all my decent-sized fabric scraps, because they really come in handy for various crafts, especially now that I'm trying my hand at making dolls and other toys for Alice. It's a fun way to recycle!

It is very exciting to go to the grocery and see so many wonderful new products. Kroger has a whole section of nothing but green/natural/organic products for your home, tummy, and body. Green is really getting popular!

I have long considered myself a conservative, and more recently I have considered myself a Libertarian to boot. Libertarians believe in a dramatic reduction of government involvement and a dramatic increase in personal freedom. I never believed in welfare, and I've always been opposed to socialized medicine. Until I had a baby. You see, I had never been in the hospital before, never had surgery, and never had a huge pile of unintelligible medical bills sitting on my kitchen table. I had always enjoyed good health, and I suppose caused me to be unsympathetic.

Oh, the bills. What were these bills for? Beats me. Some are for mysterious lab tests, cultures, and other mad scientist-sounding procedures. Some are for services that the insurance company had paid for...and then taken back their payment. But mostly, we had no idea what the charges were for. For a while, we were receiving bills or statements every other day. Even now, seven months after Alice's birth, we are still trying to settle our account with Alice's pediatrician and my obstetrician, to say nothing of the fees for my post-baby abdominal surgery. We pay more than $400 a month for medical insurance for our family, and we are still paying hand over fist for medical expenses. Clay transferred our mutual fund account to a Health Savings Account so we could pay for all of this nonsense. The bills roll in, and I sadly watch my long-saved money being yanked out from under me. And we are the lucky ones.

Thank God that we are mostly healthy and can pay our bills...so far. According to Divided We Fail, every year 1.85 million Americans go bankrupt due to medical bills. I believe it! My medical procedures are insignificant compared to someone dealing with cancer, heart disease, diabetes or any chronic illness. How can someone who has thought ahead and invested in insurance be thrown out into the street because they can't pay their medical bills? The system is broken. It has to be fixed. My sweet husband is an idealist. He thinks that if the government gave us all back the money that they are wasting, we could all pay for our health care needs, our children's education, and even throw in some cash to support the arts. Clay is an idealist. I am not. I am a realist. How am I going to pay for my next child's prenatal care and delivery? I'm probably going to have to have another C-section...what if I have another reaction to the stitches and have to have another abdominal surgery? What if one of us gets really sick? What are we going to do? Let's face it: The government is not going to up and give us our money. The government is not going to become less involved in our lives. Is socialism is inevitable?

"Robyn, are you becoming a Democrat?" you may ask. In this two-party nation, this one-or-the-other state, most Americans have the mindset that you are either a Democrat or a Republican. But in reality, people are more complex than that. Can you be a Democrat and be pro-life? Most would say, "no." If you are socially liberal but fiscally conservative, does that make you a Republican or what? Who can say? We have to get past this all-or-nothing system. And I think we can. Most of the people my age and younger are developing their own political identities. Wouldn't it be great if we could vote on all issues individually? You could vote against abortion, for state health care, against the government stalking you, and for legalized marijuana. You could say yes to state-funded art museums, roads, and parks, but no to war, corporate pay-offs and gilded toilet seats at the White House. Sure, it would take up all your time, but maybe then we wouldn't be at the mercy of these power-hungry, good-for-nothing politicians. I hope that everyone will vote their hearts in this election and not settle for the lesser of the two evils.