I’m not a big fan of noise.

Some people seem to thrive on it. Loud music, crowded parties, auditory chaos. Not for me. A walk in the woods, a good book out on the deck, a one-on-one conversation with a friend - that’s how I roll.

But, I have kids. Five of them. Boys. And that means…noise. Lots of it!

Twenty+ years of noise (thus far), with about 11 more to go.

Of course, I love my kids, and I know that an inescapable part of the package is barely-controlled chaos. But as I get older, I find myself yearning for the mythical empty nest state, where things aren’t broken daily, bickering is someone else’s problem, and interruptions are chosen instead of imposed. Of course, at that point I’ll probably start to miss the whirlwind, and be demanding time with future grandchildren. Maybe I’ll yearn for some noise. But then again - maybe not.

I met a young married lady at an event this week and she has three boys, all under the age of five (one set of twins). She described the state of her house, from the moment the kids got up, as “airborne”! Perfect.

Truth be told, I secretly enjoy the liveliness (mostly). But I find myself trying to carve out little moments of escape, some safe harbors from the kaleidoscope of chaos. My RAM is beginning to fill up with sound files. My hard disk is getting fragmented. It’s just one of the job hazards of being a long-time parent, I guess - when you’re young, your signal-to-noise filtering capacity is greater. At this stage, I yearn for more signal, and a lot less noise!

I’m thankful that I have kids, and many would give their right arm to be in my shoes. But as all parents can attest - some days your bell gets rung one too many times by the percussions of parenting. The result: kid concussions! Punch drunk parents just looking for a little peace and quiet.

So, if you ever see me in a large group setting, looking ill at ease among the sound waves, do me a favor and lead me to a quiet corner for a chat. Or, if you want to come over and supervise the kids for a long weekend, that’s an offer that will be seriously considered! Finding a safe harbor from the aural maelstrom will always be much appreciated…!

(Image credit)

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Connect with Steve Woodruff

There is something universal about the awkwardness of family.

About a week ago, two childhood friends launched a site to document as much. The results — in the vein of LOLCats and Stuff White People Like — are hilarious:

The Choker: “This is what happens when your male role model is both a priest and a gym teacher.”

My Two Dads: “You may use your calculator for this equation.”
(Favorite comment: “I am very confused by this. Is the guy in the front right like a neighborhood computer guy who helps them out sometimes?”)

Family Tree: “Even the tree felt this one was awkward.”

Check out the full, awkward archive here. Be a word of caution: Some of these will give you nightmares. Or at least the.. uh… willies.

Cross-posted on Annarchy.

In a recent article about how a bad economy can actually be a good time to start a business, Jerry Osteryoung, director of outreach of the Jim Moran Institute for Global Entrepreneurship in the College of Business at Florida State University, noted: “So many people say that entrepreneurs are born, but I am here to tell you that entrepreneurship is a learned discipline.”

Well, my girl just had the great opportunity to start that lifetime of learning by opening her first business. It was part of Austin’s first Lemonade Day - an event begun in Houston to introduce kids to entrepreneurship. The event encourages kids to start a lemonade stand and sell their lemonade to the entire community on May 3rd.

When I first heard of it, I thought “oh, that will be something fun for us to do” and envisioned nothing more involved than setting up a card table in the driveway. After picking up our backpack of how-to workbooks to teach students participating in Lemonade Day about budgets, securing investors, choosing locations and making signs, however, I quickly realized that Prepared 4 Life was taking their job seriously and I was thinking too small.

So, we talked to a friend who was also planning to participate and stuck a partnership. A new location was chosen at our neighborhood park where we thought there would be more traffic. We discussed my role as an investor, and made choices on what kind of lemonade to make and how much to charge per glass.

Despite threats of rain, it turned out to be a beautiful day to pass three hours watching cars, walkers and bike riders pass. Sales were not booming (we blame the fact that the park’s playscape was fenced off due to a factory recall) and there were times of boredom where our young enterpreneurs talked of calling it quits; but, then a burst of business would renew their enthusiasum.

After splitting the proceeds and paying her investor, my girl only grossed net $3.75 - a far cry from the revenue she hoped to use to buy that Nintendo DS mean-old-Mom won’t purchase. But, she had fun and did learn about counting money, making change and providing good customer service. And, we weren’t the only ones who had to learn not to drink all the product it sounds like. She’s also got ideas for how to improve business next time - like finding a location with higher traffic, and maybe adding “a pretty table cloth” to the stand.

Lemonade Day 2009 had local organizations in Austin, Houston, Bryan/College Station, Minneapolis and Wayne County, Indiana, this year, but anyone can participate and they have a goal to reach one million kids in the next five years. Contact them now about hosting the event in your city next year!

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• Lemonade Day Teaches Kids Entrepreneurship (myventurepad.com)
• Entrepreneur 101: Words of advice to a future Entrepreneur (The Jeff Pulver blog)

Hi, everyone! *waves*

I haven’t been here much since last year. In fact, I haven’t been here since I was pregnant.

It’s so tricky to say hello again after being gone so long that, well, I just kind of stayed away. But I missed it here, so I’d like to announce that I am back! Also, I would like to introduce you to my family, because now there are SIX of us:

I am not ashamed to say that I gave myself a little bit of a pick-me-up when I processed this photo. I might be tired all the time and have taken far fewer showers than I would like, but dadgummit, I am going to look NICE in our very first family photo together! (I gave myself a little eyeliner and lipstick, and I did not touch my skin blemishes at all – aren’t you proud of my self control?)

So, now we are six. Four kids. Four lovely little people who I would die for, each and every one of them. Four little people who are really quite well behaved, even though the two boys fall all over themselves – literally – trying to be quiet when the baby is sleeping. One oldest daughter whose place in the family is at once clear-cut and mysterious for her. One oldest boy who barely understands how fiercely the youngest boy idolizes him. One toddler who wants to be the only one Mommy pays attention to, but also the only one oldest sister pays attention to; and the only one brother pays attention to; the only one Daddy pays attention to; and the bulldog who protects the baby from the voices and advances of strangers. One tiny youngest girl with a serious face and a large appetite, and a deep and abiding need to be held constantly.

Add to that one fantastic husband who is also dead tired, and I am surprised that we get anything done at all, including get out of bed in the morning. The only reason everyone in this photo is relatively well-groomed is that the three oldest are capable of dressing themselves, and the two oldest can take their own showers and (usually) brush their own hair. And the baby gets a change of clothes more often than I do, so she always looks like a sweet little flower.

My six-week post-partum checkup is tomorrow. I can’t believe my infant is a month and a half old already. Where did the time go?!

See you around, unless the next six weeks go by in a flash also.

Hi. My name is Laura and I’ve been twittering for two years. (this is where you say “Hi Laura!”) Don’t know what Twitter is? Here’s a great video explanation: Twitter in Plain English

While some might think it is an addiction, I view it as more of an ingrained communication channel much like the cell phone and e-mail have become. Lots of people are using it, including many celebrities as wide-ranging as Lance Armstrong and Brittney Spears. But, I don’t usually follow many of them. It seems they either update rarely (hello Luke Wilson) or don’t fully engage by following others or replying to tweets.

But, I’ve begun to watch something interesting develop with a celebrity family on the site: Ashton Kutcher (@aplusk), Demi Morre (@mrskutcher) and now her daughter Rumer (@therue)

I discovered them through a news article about Ashton’s comments regarding the recent brouhaha surrounding Michael Phelps and apparently his comments about neighbors had previously caused a stir. He is obviously updating often and appears to be engaging with those who talk to him through Twitter.

Some think that the couple’s tweets about upcoming projects are just for publicity, but that strikes me as a bit self-rightous. I mean, hey, aren’t about half of everyone’s tweets a bit of self publicity? I tend to think she means it when Demi replies that they just find Twitter fun!

And, now she’s encouraged her daughter Rumor to join that fun:

I’ve tried to interest my husband in Twitter several times, but with no success. Since my girl is only six, getting her on has not crossed my mind, but if she were Rumer’s age it might. It could give us both greater insight into each other’s day - that chance to look through each other’s eyes.

What do you think? Could this new means of connection be good for families?

[UPDATE: Looks like M.C. Hammer (yes, he of big pants fame) is getting in on the family twitter act, introducing his son to the world recently]

Screenshot of MCHammer twitter

Laura P. Thomas is the wife of a former rocker and mother of one 6-year-old girl that’s already waaay too interested in The Jonas Brothers (the apple didn’t fall far). She works in the Global Online team at Dell, evangelizes virtual worlds, and twitters too much as LPT.

I was talking with a new friend last week, and during the conversation, she asked me how I tell Nicholas about his Daddy Mark. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot, pretty much since the moment that Mark died.

Right after Mark died, I was a little manic about memory. I was so afraid I was going to forget everything. Everything about Mark, about our lives together, about his childhood stories, about the few months that he got to have with Nicholas. These thoughts calmed down after a while, but they were really intense in the first several months after Mark’s death.

To answer her question, I told her that I’m scrapbooking about Mark for Nicholas; but mostly, I’m telling him stories about his Daddy Mark.

I don’t want these talks with Nicholas about Mark to be artificial. I want them to be natural and meaningful, I don’t want to sit down to dinner every night and have “story time” about Mark. Instead, I tell him stories about Mark when one of Mark’s favorite songs come on the radio. When Mark’s favorite television show comes on. My favorite stories are when Nicholas makes a face or a gesture that looks like his Daddy Mark. I jump on those moments to tell Nicholas about his Daddy Mark.

I know too, that Nicholas is getting a lot of stories about Mark through his grandpa and his aunt and uncle.

So, how do you keep memories alive? How do you tell your kids or your spouses about friends, family, loved ones who have passed on (or even just have passed out of your life)? What do you do to try to help them know those people?

A few weeks ago, my 5 month old 52″ HD plasma television started acting really strange. I could turn power on and off, but I couldn’t select any other inputs nor could I adjust volume.

Rule number 1: pull power from wall… didn’t work.

Rule number 2: concede defeat and call tech support.

So I called Circuit City’s technical support line, which of course was closed, and then I tried calling Panasonic’s technical support line and they were also closed. I suppose watching a DVD on the ole’ laptop wasn’t so bad.

Saturday:

Called technical support with Panasonic and received word the issue was evidently firmware related. Now for all of you old timers out there, did you know televisions now have microprocessors and firmware? I’m used to this on computers and copiers, but not televisions. Will the wonders never cease.

I digress. They decided to mail me firmware. This would take a week to reach me… not good, but a decent fall back option if I run into problems.

Monday:

I’m over the fact that I couldn’t achieve technical support instant gratification, and called Circuit City’s technical support line one more time. I got a scheduler on the line, and someone was to be dispatched to my house on Thursday.

We are moving up in the world at least.

Wednesday:

Get a call from the proprietor of the local servicing agency and we talk through some things. He kindly offers to run out because he thinks it should be a 5 minute fix to re-flash the firmware.

The Cavalry Arrive:

The same gentlemen I spoke with pulls up driving a really big, red truck. He comes to the door wearing thick, square glasses and talked with a heavy southern accent. Seemed like a really nice guy.

He pulls out his paperwork with the SD card and walks over to the television. He stoops over to put the SD card in the slot, stops, and leans in closer. He looks back at me, and then again at the small slot in the front of the television.

He stands up, and looks at me and asks if I know how a quarter might have gotten put in the slot.

Ahh, the love of a child…

As he proceeded to clear the jam and hand me the quarter, I thanked him profusely for his visit, realizing he didn’t have to cover the problem under warranty.

I called my daughter down and begin to calmly explain the situation. She of course looks puzzled and asks, “It’s not a piggy bank?”

Well, if it is, that is the most expensive piggy bank I’ve ever seen. I will tell you all friends, the price of a quarter went way up.

When my mom passed away a little over two years ago, I found comfort in reading journal entries she had left behind. There weren’t many, but the few that I did see gave me a new appreciation for things she had gone through but had never let on were eating at her, and just furthered my belief in what an amazing, selfless woman she was.

Given the joy I received in reading her thoughts, I started my own journal, titled, “A Journal for My Children,” just a week after she died. In it, I have entries covering everything from my relationship with my mom, dealing with her loss, and how big a part my children played in getting me through some of the toughest years of my life; to difficult life decisions my husband and I have had to make; to successes and challenges I’ve experienced in work; to fun activities we took part in, funny comments the boys have made and milestones crossed. I wanted it to be handwritten, as my mom’s were handwritten, and having the entries in her writing made them that much more personal, more real.

While I began this journal with the intent of writing in it every night, length between entries is typically more like weeks or months. That was, until the last couple of days, which have been complete contrasts of each other but both worthy of being recorded in history forever – and thus, why the value of journals is at the forefront of my mind.

It seems like such a simple idea and one that I’m sure we’ve all heard before. But now, I can truly appreciate the value of a journal to both myself and the ones I care about. Whenever it is my time to go, and I hope it’s a long time from now, I want my children to be able to read this journal and gain some real insight into who I was – not just as their mother, but as a wife, daughter, sister and professional.

I share this with you to encourage you to write down your thoughts and feelings. It doesn’t have to be every day, but believe me when I say that whatever you do put on paper will provide those you love with a window into who you really are and will be cherished in years to come.

Kristen Keller lives in New Jersey with her two young boys, husband and two dogs. In an effort to obtain the perfect work-life balance, Kristen works part-time out of her home office as an independent public relations consultant and spends the rest of her time striving to give her children the same wonderful childhood experience she had. Click here to check out Kristen’s other posts on This Mommy Gig.