Name Change

So, I changed the name of my blog. I got tired of the old one, so to add a little excitement to my life, I spent the better part of a day thinking of the perfect name.

Good bye “Whims & Wanderings.” You’ve been replaced.

Why “Life Within the Words”?

Words are a big part of my life, especially written words. I am surrounded by them. Mostly I read them; sometimes I write them. I’m paid to evaluate them. I love words.

I also have a life. I’m a mom, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister.

The new name represents what this blog is about. I write words about people who write words. I write words of my own. I write about the words I write. But filling the spaces between the words in my world is my world—my life. I use this blog to write about my life.

I began this blog years ago. I think it was originally called “Life in Bits & Pieces.” I liked that one, but it sort of made me think of a life that had been shattered. Mine’s fine. Thank God, my life is not broken. It was about my life and all the parts of it.

Then it was called something else. Must have been boring because I don’t remember what. I don’t think I wrote much during that time. ((yawn))

I changed it to “Whims & Wanderings” because I figured I’d use it to write about whatever I wanted, unbound by a theme. It was a decent name, but like I said above, I got tired of it.

“Life Within the Words” better suits what this blog has evolved into. It’s a stopping ground for all my blog posts. When I write a post on my author blog, it will end up here. My editing blog posts will be copied here as well. Posts about my real life—where my family, my faith, and my musings reside—will continue to be posted here.

Life … within the words.

My husband suggested the name “The Junk Drawer” since everything ends up here. I like that one, but … junk … maybe not.

Anyway, if you’ve read this far, thanks! I hope you visit again.

Yep. I made this.



Night Owl in the Morning

As far back as I can remember, I’ve been a night owl.  If I could choose my own schedule, I would sleep from two am to ten am.  But, as with most people, I don’t have the luxury of making my own schedule.  Work, kids, family, appointments, etc. all join forces to make sure I don’t do what my body naturally wants to do.  I’m OK with that, it’s just how life is.

As a natural-born night owl, I have always resented having to get up early in the morning.  Recently, however, I discovered the pleasure of having about thirty minutes to myself in the morning before everyone else has to get up and get ready for their day.  There’s just something wonderful and rare during this time- I believe it’s called silence.

I swear, my coffee tastes even better when it is sipped in the stillness of the early morning.

I’m certain that one day, I will miss the noise of my children getting ready for school, arguing with each other, and asking me where their shoes are.  But, for now, I’ll appreciate these silent moments.  They don’t last long, but they are golden.

My Mid-life Crisis??

Midlife? Really? Well, I am **cough, cough** thirty-nine years old, and since I don’t want to live to be 100, I guess that makes me pretty close to halfway through my life. But then, I could die next week. That would mean I hit midlife when I was 19 and a half. I’m not trying to be morbid… just realistic. I’m trying to make the point one never really knows when their midlife is.

So, what is midlife crisis? How do we know we’re having one if we don’t know when we are at the mid-point of our lives? Don’t answer those questions… they’re rhetorical. Everyone knows the true sign of having reached midlife is the sudden urge to buy a shiny, new sports car. That’s a given.

Me? While it’s true I would commit a number of crimes in order to own a restored 1967 Mustang, I don’t think that has anything to do with my own midlife. I’ve wanted one of those since I was 19 and a half. Oh…uh…hmmmm… Note to self: Don’t leave the house next week.

Here’s my crisis, midlife-related or not:

I need something. I don’t know what it is, exactly. I just know I need something different… something adventurous… something challenging… something mentally and physically stimulating. I’m not content staying home, doing the same thing… day in and day out. I’m tired of the same routine everyday.

I’m… I’m… bored!

There. I said it. Let the judging begin. Go ahead, I’m used to it. I judge myself harshly all the time. Every good Christian woman knows we are supposed to be content… some would even say we should be “happy” all the time. It must be my fault that I’m not content. Maybe I don’t pray enough. Maybe I don’t read my Bible enough. Maybe I’m just not “spiritual” enough.

Maybe if I were more like that Proverbs 31 woman, I’d be content. Want to know a little secret? Don’t tell anyone, but I hate that chick.

So, what do I do? I was happy and content while I was training for my marathon. Now it’s done and I’m bored again. So, why not train for another one? Maybe that would take away the boredom. I still love and need running but I’ve had to cut way back since my injuries threw me a curve ball. And, for some reason, it just doesn’t have the same novelty to it anymore.

Maybe I should get a job. Hey! Great idea! Oh wait, what do I do with my young children? I refuse to hand them over to a daycare situation if I can help it… been there and done that. Yes, I could work somewhere where the hours are the same as my kids… but what kind of job is that? Working with kids. I’m tired of kids. I want something different, remember?

I’ve always thrived on change. I love change! If I could have it my way, we’d move every couple years… different houses, different cities, different states. I don’t know if the upheaval and chaos caused by change boosts my adrenaline, or what. I just know I’ve always needed change. In my adult life I’ve changed majors, I’ve changed college jobs, I’ve changed friends, I’ve changed careers, I try to change my hair often (but it always looks the same).

I also love adventure. I want to do something dangerous enough to scare me but not dangerous enough to kill me. I want to see how far I can push my body.

I want challenge. Something that stretches my mental capacity. There are only so many times I can hear about Sponge Bob and Patrick before my brain starts to shrink and get soft. And believe me, I know a lot about Sponge Bob… too much! Scary.

So, what do I do? Climb Mount Everest? Go back to school and study criminal psychology? Train for a triathlon? Race car driving? Throw a rock into a hive of killer bees and run?

I can hear the imaginary “church ladies” telling me to:

  • Enjoy this time, kids grow too quickly. Yes, I know that and I agree. My kids are NOT the source of my discontent… I just want to supplement my life with something besides kids.
  • Find a group of women to meet with, to share your lives and experiences. Nice thought… but there are very few women I really bond with. Being in a group of women for too long makes me want to crawl into a hole and hide. Truth is, I like men. I prefer to hang out with men… but since I’m married, I can’t really do that anymore.
  • Take up a hobby or a craft. I DESPISE crafts of all kinds. In fact, I think I have craft-phobia… I break out in a cold sweat whenever I am forced to do a craft.

I don’t know what I will do about this supposed midlife crisis. I do know that, now that I’ve identified it, I feel better. It’s just a matter of figuring out something new to do… something that challenges me, stretches me, scares me, pushes me, and creates a certain level of havoc in my life.

Stay tuned… I’ll let you know, once I figure it out!