National Pretzel Day

It's National Pretzel Day tomorrow! To celebrate, Pretzelmaker & Pretzel Time stores will be giving away free pretzels all day!

Of course, there's a slight catch... they are asking for customers to sing for their snack.

Can you say: Awesome!

All you have to do is visit your local Pretzelmaker on Monday, April 26th and sing a snippet from any song of your choice in exchange for a free pretzel. Get your vocal chords ready & go show 'em what the world is missing since you never followed your dreams and made it to the stages of Broadway.

Honestly, if you're like me, this could just be a great excuse to break out in song in a public place. It will be like LIVING IN A MUSICAL!!

Rock the house! Maybe you'll be discovered.

Oh yeah... and enjoy your free pretzel, too. (Whatever. Like that's really what it's all about.)

(Okay, if you don't want to sing you only have to mention National Pretzel Day. But where's the fun in that?)

My Singing Sensation

The sound was... disturbing.

I was trying to listen to some music as I made dinner, but loud, top-of-your-lungs, off-key singing was coming from the room which my 2 teenage daughters share and, although hilarious, I could not take another minute of it.

"ElemenoB!" I shouted, "keep it down in there!"

"She has her headphones on, Mom," Thumbelina informed me. "She can't hear you. She can't even hear herself, obviously."

And this is when the plan began to take shape in the evil part of my brain that is conditioned to teach my kids their life lessons in a fun (and embarrassing) way.

I grabbed my camera...



...and then played it for her.

"Do you hear yourself?" I asked her. "This is what we get to listen to when you're singing with your headphones on. We can not even hear ourselves think." (Do I sound like your mother, or what?)

Apparently, she did not learn her lesson, because a couple of days later when I was trying to have a phone conversation I was constantly distracted by her much-too-loud singing again...



And I showed it to her. She laughed. I also asked why she found it necessary to stand on her bed while doing her self-performances. She promised to stay on the floor.

I suppose she thought that staying off of the bed was my main point, because WITHIN 20 MINUTES she was at it again. I grabbed my camera... but she had locked her door.

Her confidence in her lock was laughable. Does she think I haven't unlocked her door before? Once the lock was unlatched (child's play!), it was time for another video.

I cracked open the door and realized that she was serenading her sister who was sitting on the floor, her back to me, allowing for plenty of camera time...



This time she was a bit embarrassed because it looks like she is singing to her bed post.

"As long as you continue to sing, I will continue to record your performances for all posterity," I told her. "And don't think I won't post them on Facebook and my blog."

"Yeah, like anyone reads your blog," was her cocky reply.

Did that sound like permission to you? Or maybe even a dare?

Because it certainly did to me.

Life, Love And Learning

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart. - Helen Keller

I am not sure I can adequately express what I want to, but I am going to try.

The children at church took a walk across the street with their teachers today to sing some songs for the residents of the rest home there. First we walked the halls, holding hands and singing a few familiar favorites, bringing some residents to their doorways to share a smile or offer a wave as we passed by.

We continued to the main gathering room where we congregated on a stage to present a few more numbers. As we stood there singing, I looked out over the crowd. The faces I saw were happy, almost lit up with joy. And why? Because some children that they didn't even know were there to sing some songs for them.

My heart ached for these people, despite their currently pleasant demeanor. Thoughts raced through my mind. Why were they here? Did they have family? If so, did they come to visit? Were they lonely? Hurting? Sad? Scared? Where would I be when I reached that stage of my life? I continued to stand there, mouthing the words to each song along with the crowd of kids, but not actually singing for fear that my emotions would come to the surface. I am not sure how to describe what was going on inside of me except to say that I felt a great deal of love towards our audience.

When we were finished with our music we turned to exit the room. Residents of the home waved farewell, smiling, some calling out things like, "Such beautiful children!" and "Come again!"

I wanted to take the time to hug each person there, to tell them that they were loved and important. But I didn't. Not only for fear that I would become emotional but also because it was time to get back - time to sit in my classroom with the sweet 5-year-olds who I have stewardship over each week. Time to teach the lesson that I had prepared.

As we gathered back at the church and settled down for class I had a similar emotion overtake me, only this time it was one of love and appreciation for each of the kids in my class. I am uncomfortable crying in front of others and welcomed the distraction of Little O being brought to me right then as I don't think I would have been able to hold back what was threatening to emerge.

As I walked through the halls of the church, my little boy in my arms, I continued to think over the things I had felt. And I realized something. At the rest home as well as in my classroom, I was not edifying them. They were edifying me, offering me a glimpse of things that I needed to see and feel.

In reality, they were the ones teaching me the lessons today.

Lessons about the power of music and the love of mankind and the ties that bind us all together.

Remembering to count my blessings.

And none of that even comes close to sharing what I really feel.

Bedtime Songs

I do not sing to my children often enough anymore.

Last night as I went downstairs to silence the bedtime rabble-rousing, Hubba made the request. "Mom? Can you sing me a song?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"Angel song," he answered without hesitation. This song, actually called Angel Lullaby, is one I have sung to every child in their infancy. It is one I learned as a child and have loved ever since.

I began to sing and Hubba stopped me. "Can you please look at my eyeballs like you're singing it just for me?" he asked. I smiled, looked into those wide-open, inquiring eyes and was immediately struck with the idea that this would not last. That these kids of mine are growing up much too fast and that I needed to make more time for things like this - simple things like singing a song to them at bedtime.

I felt an urgency to create as many memories as possible in the short amount of time I have with these kids while they are still in our home - to create a bond that would bring them back home to visit once they no longer lived here.

For a moment, I could not sing. I could only enjoy the warm feeling that seemed to permeate my heart - a simple yet profound gift to me wrapped in melancholy - a reminder to enjoy every minute with my kids while they're here with us in our home.

So, I looked into those beautiful blue eyes of his and began to sing the Angel Song, just for Hubba. When I finished, he gave me a little smile and quietly muttered, "Fanks, mom." Be still my heart.

I started to leave when Cowgirl made her request. "Can you sing Be Like A Child?" Another favorite.

I sang. And then All-a-Boy asked for a song as well. I even heard Coolister crack his bedroom door open. Was it so that he could once again listen to the songs he heard so often when he was younger? I like to believe so.

Upon finishing my last melody I stood to leave the room. All was silent. I took a moment to look at each sleeping (or almost sleeping) child and offered silent thanks that I am blessed with so many amazing little (and some not so little) people to share my home and life with.

Today, I am thankful for the chance I was given to remember that each moment (and each child) is a precious gift. I am thankful that they teach me so much. And although my dreams of performing on Broadway stages were never realized, I am thankful for the captivated audience I have at bedtime.

I am thankful for the song of my heart.

Pizza Hut Karaoke

Vicki, Julie D., Denise, Michael the Manager, Gerb & Tiffany.
(Please excuse the shorts. And love the polka-dots.)


I was thinking today about all of the jobs I have had. And the list is long, friends. Longer than it should be.

My past occupations include (but are not limited to):

-Lemonade-Maker Extraordinaire (Hot Dog on a Stick)

-Fashion Consultant (Gymboree, Limited Express, Foxmoor)

-Flower Lady (2-day deal, pushing a shopping cart full of roses around Albertson's wearing a Rockette-type outfit...what I'd do for a buck!)

-Dish Washer (Joe's hole-in-the-wall Diner, I lasted only 3 hours)

-Waitress (The Pantry in Price, where tips are a foreign concept)

-Health-Nut Bartender (Lindburg Nutrition's juice bar)

-American Sign Language Interpreter (This is the only job I really tell people about)

...and the list goes on and on from there. But as I reflected on what my favorite job of all time was, the winner would definitely be:

-Karaoke Singer (Pizza Hut)

I know, I know, you're all very jealous. How in the world did I land such a sought-after position? Well, pull up a seat, friends, and I'll tell you my tale.

Pizza Hut was located in close enough proximity to my high school that my friends and I could hop into Holly's convertible orange bug, get in and out with an order of cheese sticks and back to school between the first and last bell. Pizza Hut was where the surfer boys ate lunch. Who, may I ask, wouldn't want a little eye candy during lunch? It was like a double bonus. Non-cafeteria food, Jake Nilges, and Aaron Ritenour. Sweet.

During one of these lunchtime expeditions, one of the gals in our pack noticed a flier advertising a karaoke contest on Friday night. Who, may I ask, wouldn't want to sing a little karaoke at Pizza Hut on a Friday night? We were THERE!

I know I was not the only contestant that first fateful Friday. I don't even remember if I won a free pizza. None of that mattered. What I do remember is that I started out easy, with a little "Crazy For You". The crowd went wild! I was in my element! I was doing what I was born to do, baby! I could NOT wait until next Friday.

I worked the crowd with "Let's Hear It For The Boy." After the winners were announced, the manager, Michael, asked me to sing a duet with him, "All Cried Out." (How could he have known that Julie D. and I practiced harmonizing that song in the school bathroom every chance we got? The dynamics in there were SO rad!) We rocked the house! They begged for more! He asked if I would be interested in singing a couple of nights during the week for a paltry sum. My people needed me! Money was no object. I could not say no.

So, for two glorious weeks, I took requests and sang for Chinese businessmen and senior citizens on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I was well on my way to becoming discovered and put on Broadway when the Pizza Hut High-Up-Muckity-Mucks decided to cut back and stop paying me my .27 cents/hour. My karaoke career came to a crashing halt.

But, oh, what a dream while it lasted!

p.s. In case you were concerned, I did not stop singing karaoke. Never have, never will.