Thursday, April 28, 2011

A Hunting We Will Go

Last week I was once again reminded how I am completely in denial about the whole parenting thing.  Don't get me wrong, I DO NOT treat my kids like they are my friends and pal around with them, I just seem to forget to keep track of some of the finer details pertaining to Abby of late.

Case in point; Good Friday I had the day off of work and Abby had plans to spend the night with her girlfriend out in Marietta that night and go to a couple of egg hunts with her the next day.

I decided I would check Abby out of school early so that I would get a chance to see her for a bit before she went to her friends house.  When I went into the attendance office and began to sign her out on the clipboard provided, I wanted to kick myself when I realized I had no clue who her homeroom teacher was. I was unable to complete the slot for that pertinent bit of information on the sign out sheet.  It left me wondering what other details I had let slip.  I was soon to find out.

For the last few days Jean, my friend and the mother of Abby's friend, had been posting friendly reminders on my facebook wall telling me to be sure and have Abby bring her Easter basket with her that weekend.  Now in a perfect world, or perhaps in everybody else's world but mine, would know exactly where the Easter baskets were in their house.  Well, nineteen years ago I did too, then my kids got old enough to push a chair up to the closet and drag stuff down off the top shelf.

After several years of finding cute little baskets sitting in the back yard either filled with sand from the sandbox and serving as the cat's favorite toilet, or perched up on a tree stump dripping water from the muddy slop that it was now serving as a container for, I just flat gave up. I actually have become resigned to the fact we cannot have nice things.  It's not a thought it's a proven fact around here.

So, about an hour before Abby's departure I had to kick it into high gear and scrounge something up that would serve as an egg gathering receptacle. I struck a Poo Bear pose and tapped my finger to my temple as I said think, think, think...where might I find an Easter basket?

A light bulb went off above my head (I am sure of it) and I headed straight for the toy box.  Why? Because that is where the baskets were?  Nope, that is where I had last seen the collapsible pumpkin head we used last October. (For those of you that don't know me, just let it suffice that I have never been one to stick with the normal rules of social propriety regarding well....most anything, and if you find that sacrilegious just know that I do not see any correlation between egg hunting and Jesus rising on the third day, if you do, it's all good with me I'm just not seeing it.)

So, the truth is out, I sent my child to three, count them three, egg hunts with a Halloween pumpkin head.  I want you to know I laughed on the inside the rest of the evening.  What makes it even funnier is that Abby didn't bat an eyelash and didn't even question my sanity as I handed it to her.  I imagine she is just taking notes to give to the judge at the competency hearing.....





© 2011  Annette Bagley-Martin

Friday, April 1, 2011

The Secret of Lies ~ By: Barbara Forte Abate

A novel by Barbara Forte Abate
The Secret of Lies is a powerful novel set on the Atlantic coast in 1957. Stevie Burke, a young teenage girl, is faced with the ugly truth that people are not always who they seem to be, even though you may have spent your entire life around them.

The memories of the summer of ’57, the year her life changed forever, dog Stevie’s heels like a shadow. Years later, in an attempt to outrun them, she finds herself miles from home and at a loss for words when the urge to call the very person she has run from, has her reaching for the phone.

Ash Waterman, her husband, and the one living person that loves her despite herself, has kept her anchored in reality, yet she finds herself looking for a means of escape. Will he understand her need to break free and attempt to outrun the wave of memories that threaten to crash down upon her?

Be prepared as this novel sweeps you away as strongly as the undertow at sea. You will find yourself so thoroughly engrossed in Stevie’s recollection, it will feel as if you have lived a lifetime as an invisible onlooker into her life.

The Secret of Lies is the first novel for Barbara Forte Abate, is guaranteed to please, be sure and add this novel to your list of must reads!


This review provided by Annette Bagley-Martin
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from http://www.promotionalacarte/ as part of their Courtesy a la Carte book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”