KATHRYN R. BIEL: AUTHOR

My daughter is hard at work. Reading, analyzing, diagramming her story. She is trying hard to gather her materials, to be precise, to be accurate. She is working all weekend on this project. It is not homework, just what was her "take home" lesson from school. Monday morning, she cannot wait to show her teacher what she has done. She is proud of her work. She should be. She did a good job. She read the book. She made a story rope with her custom illustrated version of the story, in detail right down to the colors she used. She identified the title and author, the setting, the characters, the problem and the solution. And I hate it. Because she is six, and the story is "The Three Little Kittens." She should be working on reading, and decoding her words. She should be absorbing the language, appreciating the verse and cadence of the words. Letting the phrases roll off her tongue in a melodious way, savoring the rhymes. Looking at the pictures, seeing h

I am the victim of a war. It is a war between my brain and my body.  Right now, my body is winning. First of all, I'm not getting any younger here, although I refuse to accept that.  However, while I am not getting any younger, it means I am getting older.  As such, I have older-person (i.e. adult) responsibilities.   I have two kids who depend on me.  I need to be there for them, to be their mom.  To provide unconditional love and support, guidance and reassurance.  To give them a moral and ethical foundation that will make them decent human beings some day.  Kids these days are busy.  We don't even do that many activities in the grand scheme, but there is so much running.  I am out of the house every single day doing something or other that pertains to the kids.  It is tiring, but I know these times will be gone before I know it.  I am trying to find the joy and satisfaction in running Mom's Taxi Service. I have a husband that needs me to support him in various ways

It is a gorgeous fall weekend, and I cannot get my head together to come up with a cohesive blog post.  So here is a non-cohesive one.  This is pretty much what my brain is like 90% of the time.... I'm even gonna make it a bulleted list, well, just because I'm being lazy about the whole thing. Halloween costumes are underway.  We're going as a family of ninjas.  I'm going as a ninja disguised as a Geisha, so I'm even more stealth than the rest.  Sophia will be a hybrid ninja/geisha.  All is well and good, with the exception of my fabric choice.  I brought some beautiful brocade and costume satin to make the costumes out of.  I knew the satin might be difficult to work with, but I did not anticipate that the fabrics (both kinds) would immediately start to unravel and fall apart once cut.  I was quite resourceful, however, and discovered that running all cut ends through a flame will essentially melt the material, forming a seal.  The kids are fascinated by this

Every woman needs a best friend like the one I have.  Throughout my life, I have had many friends.  A few were very close friends that I have given the term "best" to.  As my life has changed and evolved, my relationships have as well.  Never in a million years would I ever have imagined that I would have the privilege of having a best friend like Michele. Michele and I went to high school together.  We were aquantiences, but our school was pretty small.  We traveled in smaller circles that were part of a larger circle.  I didn't really know her, but didn't have a favorable opinion of her.  She felt similarly about me.  A few years back, a mutual friend "reunited" us.  I wasn't thrilled about seeing her again.  But the years had changed us, and we found ourselves talking frequently, with a lot in common.  We have similar views on parenting and marriage.  We have similar likes.  Our husbands get along well.  Our children are remarkably similar. She wa