Such is life.

My friend picked these beautiful roses from the bushes in my yard. As she arranged the blooms and placed them on the black baby grand (on loan from my parents), sunlight streaked through open blinds into the room. The magazine-like scene sent my brain spinning and FINALLY I thought it would be a perfect metaphor to write about on my sadly absent blog. After taking several pictures, I started thinking of subject lines.

"Looking at life through rose-colored glasses!"

"Hardman Car Company's new rosey outlook on life"

"Roses are red, violets are blue, The Car Salesman's wife's optimistic view"

"Trimming back can bring brilliance- all it takes is time"

"Every rose has it's thorn, just like every car lot has it's sad, sad, recession"

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by my friend shouting, "CAROLYN! Sheep are eating your roses!" I ran out the back door to find about 15 of my neighbors sheep lined up in assembly like fashion munching on tasty crimson rose bushes that line my fence. I shouted, yelled, and ran after them, shuffling them through the gate my son had left slightly ajar. My poor bushes took a brutal beating from the beasts and the perfume smell that was there just moments before was now replaced with the wretched stench of sheep poo.

The "blogger block" that has plagued me for the past few months quickly found its place back in my heart as I walked around the yard shoveling up the piles of "stank". It wasn't until tonight, as I mowed my lawn, looking at my sorry lot of once magnificent flora that I realized what a perfect metaphor this story is to a car salesman's wife recently.

Like the beautifully displayed blossoms on my piano, many things have been exceptional in the past few months. AND- like the stinky beasts that took away my exceptional blooms and dropped a bunch of crap on my yard, many things have been frustrating, sad, and annoying in the past few months.

Overall though, I must remember roses always come back and like life, it is worth it to prick myself on their thorns a few times in order to enjoy their beauty.

A bunny and a lamb

March was a cold month. I wrote in the beginning of the month about it "coming in like a lion" and hoping it would "go out like a lamb". But with many days of snow, wind and cold- that seemed pretty unlikely. It wasn't until a couple of days before Easter when we had a semi-warm afternoon that I followed my kids to my neighbor's yard and saw a picture book like sign of the season change.

At the end of the gravel driveway leading to the back of their home, we saw their sheep lazily grazing in the yard, overgrown with matted white wool. In the corner of the yard, a tiny black lamb stood on it's shaky legs and let out a baby sounding "baaaa". At that moment, a beautiful brown bunny with a white cotton tail hopped across the little pasture over to one of the sheep. The bunny jumped playfully in between the sheep's legs and like a little puppy, teased his new friends by bouncing on their noses as they ate. It was an unbelievable spring picture, captivating and perfect at the end of a gloomy weather month.

Luckily, the old March saying held true for our business too. It did come in like a Lion and although it did not end up quite as picturesque as the afternoon scene at the neighbor's, it did finish with renewed hope for the months to come.

The Flying Pig

Bedtime at our house is 10 PM. Many times 10:30 and nights like tonight, 11:00. I know that's late. There have definitely been embarassing moments when I've purposely avoided sharing that fact during "mommy talk" on volunteer day at the school. One mom will start with, "Oh, what a horrible night, my kids would not go to sleep. It was nine o'clock before those stinkers finally collapsed." Another might chime in, "Oh, I know! And with daylight savings time they are hassling me so much cause they have to go to bed when it is still light outside. Well I am not giving up my precious hours of alone time." I usually nod, secretly wishing I had some of those "precious hours of alone time" they were talking about, but never outwardly admit our bedtime sins.

There is justification in our late hours, it is quite easily explained with, "my husband is a car salesman." If the kids are lucky, their dad walks in the door around 7:30 or 8:00, allowing only two hours of much needed "dad time". (For the kids and for me.) Sonny gets pulled in lots of directions when he gets home, making the evening come alive with superhero talk, computer games to conquer and imaginitive ways to throw bouncy balls at the kids just the right way to make them squeal in excitement. Tonight was one of those nights, busy, loud, and quick. Around 9:55 my responsible 7 year old told me I needed to "stop watching my show and put him to bed." (nice attempt at precious alone time. I'd already tried to move myself into a different room so no one would find me, but I was met with failure.)

At about this same moment our doorbell rang. A couple we are friends with came over to say "hi" so I sent the boys upstairs with pajama assignmets and teeth brushing orders and walked to our messy kitchen table for brief conversation. After awhile Asher and Beck worked their way back downstairs, loving the attention they were getting from strangers. Asher's little "wow, now I can really get attention!" light bulb must have gone off in his little head because he was instantly monopolizing the wife of our visiting duo. He tripped over his words telling story after story about Fluffy Fluffy mom, dad and baby (3 teddy bears), Thor, Captain America and Spiderwoman's crazy adventures of the day and Turtwig, Squirttle Wirrtle, and Ash ketchum- pausing only to allow our friend to try to repeat the name Squirrtle Wirrtle until she got it right. (A pretty impossible feat with our little four year old's pre-school sounding letter tones).

Around 11:00 a call from the stairs informed us "I should be going to bed at 9:30, not 11:00- your friends are staying way too late. Someone needs to put me to bed." Feeling like my dad had just ordered the party to stop and a little guilty that it was actually my son reprimanding my bad behavior, I excused myself and walked upstairs.

Grayson greeted me with a signature scowl and said, "It's a good thing I had this book to read." I apologized and while he climbed onto his already made bed, not wanting to climb "inside" because that would require him to have to make it again in the morning, he pulled his extra fuzzy WALL-E character blanket over his neon yellow Spongebob pajama'd self and told me about his book.

"It's about this pig who wants to fly- but nobody thinks he can do it, so his one friend is the only one who keeps telling him he can. I think the moral of the story is that if you have a dream, you should try and try to do it no matter what. Just keep trying." (He must be learning about story morals, because he'd asked me what the moral was to the Bee Movie earlier that day.)

"I think you're right. That is a great moral. So, if you had an impossible dream, like this flying pig, what would it be?" I asked him.

He thought for a moment, beginning first with a disclaimer, "Well, I don't know if this could be done until maybe the 22nd century (how'd he know there was a 22nd century?) but, I think I want to invent the first teleporter. See, if we had a teleporter it would help people in so many ways. I would never be late for school, we could jump from one country to another country in a second, you could be upstairs and then downstairs in a flash. Stuff like that."

"Wow, that would be amazing. Maybe we could find some inventing books at the library and read more about what it would take to do that." I wondered if I should point out that his impossible dream was really pretty much impossible. He's a smart kid, maybe I could explain how matter can't be broken up and re-put together in other places like that- but then I'm not a smart enough mom to really know what the heck I would mean by that."

He then asked me, "What's your impossible dream mom?" Hmmm. My impossible dream? I knew what it was at age 7, (to be an olympic gymnast-I got far, but no where near there.), I knew what it was at age 24, (to be a successful business owner, I started a yoga business, but found out it was harder than it looked and sold it. I support my husband with Hardman Car Co. but right now I don't think we could call that successful). Hmmm. Can you even have impossible dreams after the age of 30? I was actually a little surprised by the answer, I told him, "I want to write." Really? I do? This writing thing is new to me. I have only basic college English under my belt, know very little vocabulary words, and spend almost zero time practicing- but that is what I said.

So as my responsible 7 year old laid his head on his pillow, dreaming of teleporters and time machines, I thought about how I could be a writer. Remembering my neglected blog, (this is only the 3rd of the month) I excitedly went downstairs and grabbed my laptop. I know it is just a beginning, but I feel better when I at least try to write something. So at 12:14 AM, I am now going to say good night hoping this entry will get me a little closer to becoming a flying pig myself someday.

A Sign that Sells

How often do you hear "It's a sign - his hair is brown, I'm suppose to marry him." or "It's a sign, I'm wearing blue and that puppy has blue eyes- I am suppose to have him."? We can think of all kinds of reasons to do or not to do things. This cosmic theory that somehow our destiny is being told to us through "signs" is a common one. Whether we believe events that occur in our lives tell us the path we should take or not, this week we've found that they certainly might help when selling a used car.

Sonny greeted a couple looking at a Mercedes on our lot just last week. They seemed impressed by the car, took it for a test drive, and after handing the keys back told Sonny, "we'll let you know." Saying "goodbye", Sonny went back to his office and his customers went to their car. While sitting by the security camera feed, he watched as the Mercedes customers sat. They sat, and sat in their car. After awhile Sonny decided there must be something wrong, so he walked out and gently knocked on their window, asking them, "is everything okay?"

"Oh, ya, we're just looking up some comparison prices on our phones. No big deal." They responded.

"Ok, sounds good, let me know if you need anything." Sonny left them to sit in their car. He returned to his office and watched as they sat some more.

Eventually, they exited their car, and came into the building. After greeting them again, they explained to Sonny that their car would not start. "We've decided it is a sign, we want to buy your Mercedes."

It looks like the cosmic world aligned for all parties involved. They got a great car for an awesome price, and we got a chance to move some inventory and make space for more "signs" in hopefully a lot more customer's lives.

In Like a Lion

The bulletin board in my Kindergarten classroom was covered in green paper on the first day of March. Clovers and leprechauns with cheery faces digging through pots of gold at the end of a rainbow bordered the words that read, "MARCH- It comes in like a lion and out like a lamb."

Being in Kindergarten, I could hardly read the words, let alone understand what they meant. We shared the classroom of my country school with 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders so sometimes our decorations were a little "above" the two of us in the Kindergarten class. I remember Mrs. Buessing taking us over to the board and talking to us about the month of March. She had put these words there as a metaphor for what the weather is usually like during the month. "March usually starts out cold, snowy and windy. Kind of like a lion's roar, it comes in scary and strong" My favorite grade school teacher explained, "But when March comes to end, spring time begins and we hope that the weather turns gentle and warm like a soft baby lamb would be." Though Nebraska weather is a kind of mystery and did not always follow Mrs. Buessing's bulletin board statement, I always hear her say it in my head when the month begins.

This March 1st holds true to the metaphor, racing in like a lion but hopefully going out like a lamb. February was one of the worst months in Hardman Car Company history. Full of stress, low customer numbers, and even more bad news in the automotive industry. Sonny has worked hard, long hours that have not gone unnoticed by his family. As a wife I've tried to make it more bearable but sometimes feel sad that I can't help even more.

Last night, as our weekend closed, Sonny said, with as much positive vibe he could muster, "March 1st..." Instead of his prior first of month positive statements of "It's going to be a good month!" he just recognized it is a new month.

It always helps to put rough times behind us (the month of February) and see the new month as a potential new beginning. Even though it is a month roaring in with scariness and fury, there is a small hope instilled by a country school teacher that it will calm and hopefully end quietly, softly and lamb like.

It's Hard to Breathe

I watched part of the movie "Miracle" while I ran a few miles on the treadmill today. I am starting training for a half marathon next week and wanted to get a few practice miles in before then. I have had very little motivation to run lately, but after eating my children's bag of popcorn at target and enjoying way too many Tim Tam cookies- I knew that Beckett's nap time gave me a great excuse to get moving.

As I ran, I watched as the 1976 US hockey team lost their first season game against the Soviet Union, 6-0. After the game, coach Brooks made his team stay behind and condition. They skated long after the rink closed, skating in the dark, bodies burning in pain obeying a coach determined to challenge them and make them champions. I ran and watched as one team member yelled his name and shouted that he played for the USA. A big step, indicating that he was an asset to this team, not an independent player from some other organization. The coach was waiting for that. He excused his team from the ice, and I gulped through broken breaths and a little bit of tears more determined to not give up on my simple run. It was hard to breathe, but I felt like I had wings.

I have enjoyed the past week of Winter Olympics. I have had several broken breath moments and tear streaked faces as I've learned more about the athletes competing. Sometimes I find myself living in the past, wishing I was still young enough to be one of those athletes walking in with team USA during opening ceremonies. Knowing that option doesn't exist, my focus turns then to my children- all of which seem totally uninterested in anything happening in Vancouver right now.

So I guess I resort to success on the small scale of my life. I am happy to get motivation from the great stories of Evan Lysacek, Lindsey Vonn, Apollo Ono and the 1976 USA hockey team. I know that Sonny and I won't be the best in all life races we run, but we will have experiences that make it hard breathe, and that's a good thing.

Kung Fu Philosophies

I never thought I'd be a mom that uses a TV in the car, but truthfully, I do. Traveling on our outings, the kids enjoy watching some of their favorite shows and it always seems to go in cycles. We'll usually have one DVD in for a few days at a time, starting and finishing in different spots of the show. The most recent DVD selection has been Kung Fu Panda, The Furious Five. I have never actually seen the movie (as I am driving during the showing) but I have heard it a few times. The premise is this: Jack Black's character, Po, gathers young students of the ancient art to talk with them about the "secrets" of Kung Fu. He shares stories of five Kung Fu masters, nicknamed the "Furious Five" and tells how each of them became the great masters they are. Each story expresses a quality that masters of Kung Fu should emulate: Patience, Courage, Compassion, Confidence and Discipline.

As we've driven around town, the kids have asked about each of these qualities and I've thrown in little remarks like, "Maybe you should have some COMPASSION toward your brother and help him with his seat belt?" Or "Sorry, we're not getting McDonalds, we're trying to be DISCIPLINED." Yesterday, I found that me and the little bunnies on the show were not the only one's learning from the "Dragon Warrior" and had another great parenting moment from our household optimist, Asher.

We sat down to dinner earlier than usual because the kids were starving. After picking Grayson up from school, we had a few errands to run, dropping off kids, delivering packages, and to the bank to deposit some checks. It took longer than I thought and by the time we got to the bank, it was 5:00, right in time for the evening rush. Grayson had not eaten anything since school and after offering my earlier response toward McDonalds, his cravings had yet to be satisfied. We sat in line at the bank drive through for much, much, longer than anticipated. The wait was so annoyingly long it was not just waring on my kids- I was frustrated too. After the deposits had finally been made, we bolted home and threw in some frozen pizza.

Sitting around the dinner table I asked the kids what their "best and worst" were for the day. (A tradition we have to tell each other what the best part and worst parts of our days were.)Grayson answered the latter part of the question first, "Well my worst was waiting forever in that huge line of cars at the dumb bank!" He furrowed his eyebrows and took a bite of pizza. Asher was quick to follow, "Ya, and my best was having PATIENCE while we waited in line at the bank." I chuckled. I guess we all see things differently.

Always grateful for the cute comments of my kids, I'll take a cue from them and work to have the COURAGE to do what's right, the CONFIDENCE to try new things, COMPASSION when I get upset, PATIENCE when I am frustrated and DISCIPLINE as I work toward my goals.