I was turned on to the idea of paying kids for chores by allowing them to earn chore bucks from Jennifer Steward of Stewardship Ministries. She had a neat chore cards system that rewarded kids when they completed all their chores.

The only problem was it required more out of me than I could seemingly handle. I loved the cards, but I didn’t love having to police it and hand out the chore bucks so the kids could use their chore bucks to pick something. So, I did what I always do. I took what I loved about the system, and threw away the parts that didn’t work for me. What I loved was the Reward system. What I didn’t love was that it felt like a bribe to me.

I would purchase items for the “Good Kids Box.” I tried to find things so there would be items each of the kids would like, bouncy balls, pencils, little horses, dinosaurs, Mad Libs, etc. I would catch my kids in the act of doing something good, and reward them. Routine home things were not always rewarded. We changed the name of chores to JOYS (Joyful Obedient Youthful Service). In other words, it was their duty.

I also had another box I called the “Blessed Kids Box.” This box contained small items like gum, little candy bars, erasers, stickers, etc. The point of this box was if one of the kids did something that warranted picking out of the “Good Kids Box,” everyone else was “blessed” to have a sibling who did something to be rewarded, so the rest of the children picked something out of the “Blessed Kids Box.”
Another thing I would sometimes do is just randomly say, “I’m so BLESSED to have such wonderful children.” One of the kids would look at me and smile.
I would smile nod at her and she would announce, “We get to pick out of the blessed kids box!” The kids loved it!

I found that using the Good Kids Box and Blessed Kids Box met my need of wanting to reward good behavior without it being a bribe.

The time was getting nearer for our baby to be born. I had been having contractions all day. I figured our baby would be born that night or the next day when I went to my scheduled appointment.

I crawled out of bed to go use the bathroom-again. Anyone who has ever been pregnant knows that this is a ritual done virtually every night in the latter stages of pregnancy. Go to the bathroom, go to bed, wait ten minutes, get up again to use the bathroom, and the cycle continues until you finally fall asleep.

As I sat on the toilet, I began to get excited because I thought my water had broken. But the flow didn’t stop. I called for Steve to come in and turn on the light.

My fears were confirmed. I had been filling the toilet with blood. As Steve ran to get the phone to call 911, I fell on to the floor.

I knew at that moment, I was probably going to die. I even told Steve I was going to die. I was not fearful, just matter of fact. I don’t remember thinking about our children at that point, but I did not want to leave Steve.

I wish I could say it was like the movies where the world stands stil for a moment as a man cradles his wife’s body in his arms as she whispers her final words, “I love you” to him.

But this was not anything like the movies.There were arrangements that had to be made. Steve called a sitter to come stay with the children, and then he called my sister to pray.

By now the ambulance had arrived. The paramedics gave me oxygen, put an IV in my arm, and began pumping fluids through my veins. I began to feel better, but I was still pretty sure I was not going to make it. I was not frightened. In fact, I really felt quite peaceful.

A second ambulance came. The intention was to load me up,meet another ambulance, and switch me to it; however, the third ambulance was only six miles away, so we waited for it.

The big dilemma was how to get me down the stairs. Do paramedics only deal with people on ground floors? Their biggest fear was that I was going to deliver the baby. At one point, one of the ambulance crew put the pulse monitor on my finger.

“Ow!” I groaned.

The paramedic got a little panicky and asked, “Are you having the baby?”

“No, you pinched my finger.” We all chuckled.

I was worried my children would wake up, but none of them stirred from their rooms, so I assumed all the children were asleep. Little did I know, Ashley was wide-awake in her room. She knew that was the best place for her to stay. She watched from her window as I was placed into the back of the ambulance. She even took a picture of the ambulances in the driveway. She thought it was the last time she might ever see me. After we were gone, Ashley came out of her room and prayed with the sitter.

The ambulance ride seemed really fast. If I weren’t in the back, I would have thought it quite exciting to see three ambulances whizzing past with lights and sirens. Steve rode up front and prayed even more intensely when the attendant with me in the back told the driver, “Floor it!”

I was freezing. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. My blood pressure was dangerously low.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was greeted by more people than I could remember. Some guy started doing an ultrasound. They seemed unconcerned that my baby was going to die if they didn’t take it out.

But I was still peaceful. I later found out that I was in shock and taking me into the operating room at that time would have had dire consequences. After three ultrasounds, they finally prepped me for surgery.

Once in the operating room, I only remember a calmness. I felt like someone was praying for me. It was really quite a pleasant feeling. At one point I asked if anyone noticed from the ultrasound the sex of my baby.

Only the anesthesiologist responded. He kindly leaned over to me and said, “We weren’t looking.” I just wanted to know what sex my baby would be when I arrived in heaven with it.

Steve waited in the hallway while the surgery took place. As he watched through the window and could see only doctors, nurses, and a whole lot of blood, he felt an unusual peace, too. He was uncomfortable feeling so peaceful. He was sitting in a chair at the end of the hallway and would begin to think, I should be worried. Then he would start to worry. He would get up, walk to the operating room window, look in, and even with a view of lots of blood, he would again become peaceful. He could feel God’s presence with him.

The next thing I knew, several hours had passed. When I awoke, someone told me I had a boy. The doctors were worried the baby had inhaled blood into his lungs, so they were sending him to a children’s hospital an hour and a half away. A nurse wheeled the baby into my room. He had a ventilator tube in his mouth and a tube sticking out of his belly button. The doctor had sent a scope of some kind up through his umbilical cord to his heart.

As I looked at him I thought, That isn’t really my baby.

His fate was still unknown. The doctor said the baby probably had massive brain damage. The outlook for him was bleak, but I still had an incredible peace.

Over the course of the next several days, even weeks, the pieces began to fit together. I had a condition known as placenta accreta. My placenta was in full praevia position, but my placenta had grown through my uterine wall and attached to several of my organs. The doctor was unable to stop the bleeding. He had to perform a hysterectomy.

At one point during the surgery, my blood pressure bottomed out and my oxygen levels dropped below 50 percent. After they pumped twelve units of “new” blood into me, my condition began to improve. When I finally came out of the anesthesia, my chances had gone from slim to much improved.

Our son also improved gradually. While he rode in the ambulance to the other hospital, they told us his breathing improved; and he even opened his eyes for the first time. They were able to reduce the ventilator to 60 percent. Every report from then on was positive as God multiplied His blessings to us.

After five days I was able to go home, but home is not where I went. I went to the bedside of my son, Bryan. I had to wait an hour and a half before I could hold him. He nursed right away, and we were able to take him home the next day. It didn’t appear that he had any brain damage.

I believe that the Lord had been preparing me for this almost my entire pregnancy. It was a miserable pregnancy. It was the first time I was questioning if I really wanted to go through having another baby. But in my heart, I knew I could not do anything to prevent a pregnancy. Steve and I felt convicted that we should let God be in control of our family size. We knew God was the Creator of life. Children were blessings to be desired.

At one point during my pregnancy, I told the Lord in prayer that if I were not to have anymore children it would have to be by His hand, not by ours. I did not know when I went to bed on Feb 11, 1998 as I lovingly touched my round belly that that would be the last time I would ever feel a baby kick within my body. I was thirty-three when Bryan, my eighth child, was born. I figured I could possibly have another eight before I was through. It is so easy to take fertility for granted.

Since that night, my life has changed dramatically. The little things don’t seem to matter anymore. My children could have been without a mommy. My husband could have been without a wife. I would have been in heaven, so I probably wouldn’t have cared too much.

The Lord has given me a new life. I really thought when I came home from the hospital that I would be perfect. For some reason I felt that I had almost touched the hand of God, so somehow that would make me a perfect mommy. Right away, I blew it. So, I’m not going to get to be perfect-yet! But I won’t stop trying!

I’m enjoying my life more, enjoying my children more, and enjoying my husband more. So many things seem to get in the way of what is really important. I hope that I never get to a point again when I cannot marvel at God for saving the life of my son and myself. I hope that I will not forget to marvel at the blue sky, the snow-covered grass,the intoxicating smell of a newborn baby, a two-year-old singing “Jesus Wuvs Me,” and the sparkle in the eyes of a child when you throw all abandon to the wind and say, “Let’s have soda-pop for lunch!”

When God saved my life, He put a new beat in my heart, more spring in my step, joy in my soul, and a miracle in my arms.

In the mundane, there is life!

©2001-present Terri Camp “I’m Going to be the Greatest Mom Ever….Even if it Kills Me”

I turned into Miss Robotic. Everything became just matter-of-fact as I would share the information with loved ones. Inside I was weeping, on the outside, I was calm and steady. (until I got home a few days later)

My mom cracks me up all the time. On day two when the doctor came in her room she asked, “Is it terminal?” Maybe it’s odd to laugh at the question, but it just tickled me, and still does.

While in the hospital Mom said, “Well, since I don’t have much time left on the earth I better get myself a goal.” A while later she said, “My goal is to make everyone smile who comes in contact with me.” That is my mom! Life has never been about her – but always about others. Even though she was in immense pain she needed to get out of her hospital bed and walk. As we walked past the nurses station Mom suddenly began to dance. It was more like a hip-bump-bump kind of thing. But all of the nurses began to laugh. She took my hand, looked me in the eye and said, “Working on that goal!” – then she winked at me.

Without divine intervention, Mom is going to die. We have talked together about funeral arrangements and things like that.

When I was on the plane I saw in the Sky Mall magazine an ad for personalized playing cards. Mom LOVES to play cards. Most of my memories as a kid involve playing games with Mom. We played Cribbage, Five Hundred, all kinds of Solitair games, Nertz, etc. I thought this would be a perfect “take-away” for her family and friends.

I shared the idea with my sister who gently reminded me that they don’t give out party favors at funerals.

I still thought I had a brilliant idea and shared it with my mom on the phone. She LOVED the idea! She had me look up prices. She said, “I don’t want flowers at my funeral” But I would love to have playing cards for everyone.

The next day she called and said, “Did you know they have “living funerals?”

I said to her, “Mom! That’s called a party!”

She said, “Well, I want one!” I couldn’t believe the excitement in her voice when she began to talk about having a party. She would invite all of her family and then they wouldn’t have to come down for the funeral. They could remember her as being fun. (Have I mentioned that I decided a long time ago that I don’t “do” funerals?) She then started talking about having a garage sale at the same time and it would pretty much pay for the party.

I think it’s a grand idea! Then we can give out party favors! We talked about how to personalize the cards. I suggested a picture of her standing by the semi truck she used to drive. She liked that idea. Then I said, “Maybe the caption should simply say,
Ilene Harlan born June 17, 1945
SHE LIVED!

Mom loved it! – because it is the truth.

So, we’re planning a party. Y’all are invited!
Then ….later….. we’ll all get to have a party again!

I took this picture of Mom and Shileen when we went to visit last weekend. Mom was having a rough day. When I saw them sitting together like that, I just got such a sense of peace. She may be resting on the outside – but on the inside – she’s having a party!

Another thing my brain seems to do is actively invent new products. Oh, if I only had the resources to research all of my ideas! I may have figured out that what I really love is the research and not necessarily seeing the fruition of my idea. No, what I really love is telling someone my idea then having them tell me it’s “brilliant and you should do it!” That’s all I’m after, the words proclaiming how smart I am. (Now if that isn’t egotistical I don’t know what is – but I’m just being real here)

I would venture to say that on an average day I will use the phrase, “I have an idea” at least five times. Most of my ideas are ways to make the life of a mom just a little bit easier. With eight kids, I’ve had a lot of opportunity to make my life easier.

One of my ideas is a Night Owl Alarm Clock. It would be set at a certain time which would tell the child, “time to brush your teeth and put on your jammies.” Then 15 minutes later, it would chime again letting them know they are to get their FINAL drink of water. In five minutes another alarm would signal the child to get into bed. One more alarm (you set the time) would tell the child to put down the book and turn out the lights.  Isn’t it brilliant? Want to invest?

I’m always striving to solve problems. Case in point – The other day while visiting my mom in MO there was another visitor in the house. Little Xavier’s mom was in the hospital having a baby. She had to stay over an extra day so Xavier was staying with his Grandma (who my mom lives with). His Grandma gave Xavier a bath, but as she was getting him ready realized there were no longer any diapers in his suitcase.  It would be an hour before anyone could bring her diapers. Grandma got a little flustered with Xavier being “half neked.” I happened to look over and saw a Wal Mart bag. That’s when the idea took shape. We could put his legs through the bottom of the bag then take the loops and put his arms through the loops. Everyone laughed at my idea. I thought it was brilliant. His Grandma said, “There is no way he’ll let me put this on him.” She sat Xavier on her lap and proceed to slide his legs into the bag. The loops went over his arms, but kept falling down. I recommended a twist tie. We tied the loops behind him and he was able to go play without constantly being aware he was “half neked” and with Grandma not worrying about him having an accident on the couch.

As soon as he had on the “diaper” someone in the kitchen said, “Oh my gosh! It’s a redneck diaper!”

So, here is my first fully functional invention – The Redneck Diaper!

Xavier modeling his redneck diaper

This is a friend of a friend in Des Moines. She lives just off a busy street.

Well, there is good news and bad news about my
Christmas decorations this year Good news is that I truly
out did myself this year with my Christmas decorations.  The bad
news is that I had to take him down after 2 days. I had more people come
screaming up to my house than ever. Great stories. But two things made
me take it down. First, the cops advised me that it would cause traffic
accidents as they almost wrecked when they drove by. Second, a 55 year
old lady grabbed the 75 pound ladder almost killed herself putting it
against my house and didn’t realize it was fake until she climbed to the
top (she was not happy). By the way, she was one of many people who
attempted to do that. My yard couldn’t take it either. I have more than
a few tire tracks where people literally drove up my yard. Kind of feel like I
gave in to the  man by taking him down but my neighbor did confirm
to near miss accidents on the busy street next to my house. I think I
made him too real this time So it was fun while it lasted.  

My mom is relatively young, just 65, but hasn’t really kept herself in very good health. We had been talking about how cool it would be for her to move to Texas to live near the grandkids, who always seem to give her so much pleasure. I had grand ideas of getting my clutches into my mom. (Did I really say it like that?) I was hoping that we could help her with nutrition and exercise. These were things I was looking forward to doing.

My mom is one of those people who lights up a room. It’s like she carries her own little Christmas light all year long. Actually, she’s more like one of those goofy Christmas elves that sings and dances making everyone within a short distance stare — and laugh. Last Christmas she decided she was going to try to fly to the moon. She got a broomstick and started running around (I don’t know how in the world she managed to run around in my yard). Anyway, she had a blast trying to fly to the moon.  She didn’t quite make it — not that time anyway.

Like I said before she’s been kind of not well for a lot of years. It seems like every few months there’s something new. She had gone into the hospital a couple of weeks ago thinking she had kidney stones. After some tests, they decided to do a biopsy. On Wed night before Thanksgiving the doctor called and told her to come in on Friday to begin chemotherapy. The news rocked my world. It was like being punched in the gut for a minute. As the tears fell, I began to think about positive things. I had somehow managed to leave the house that day with no make-up on my face. As tears poured down my cheeks, I thought, “At least I don’t have make-up streaks.” That reminded me that I got that “look on the bright side of every situation” attitude from my mom. Another great thought was that I had just managed to make enough money selling my Ignite the Fire book online so that I could drive up to see her.

I left on Thanksgiving for the ten hour drive. Meanwhile, friends had been preparing a marvelous turkey dinner with all the fixin’s that they were taking over to my house. So, even though I wasn’t home, my kids still had a great Thanksgiving with friends — and each other!

When I was about 7 minutes from my exit, my car suddenly quit moving. So there I sat on a dark cold night, on the side of the road. I was ready to begin bawling. But again, I decided there must be something good. I said to God, “Well God, it’s just you and me, You may as well have a seat.” And He did. We had a nice little chat. I called a tow truck. Within about an hour, I was back on the road. I still don’t know why the car quit working. I’m praying it will not do that again!

It was probably time for me to have some good quality time with my mom. I wouldn’t have chosen to do it at her hospital bedside, but I’ll take anything I can get at this point.

Mom has been in a lot of pain for quite awhile. After the first day they gave her a morphine drip which made her say she has NO pain. Then she started passing kidney stones! How cool is that? She got to pass the stones while on a morphine drip.

My mom is one of those really special people —-  And that’s all I’m going to say about that now.

You can get your copy at http://www.homeschool.terricamp.com

Another great thing is that I’ve found all of my lost workshops! I’ve been able to transfer one of them into an mp3 file and I’m giving it away for FREE! It’s my most popular workshop, “Putting the Fun Into Home Education!” And you get it absolutely FREE!

While I was transfering it from a .wav file to an MP3 I listened to it. I had so much fun listening in and what a great reminder of all the fun things we had done. At the time of the recording David was out running my booth. He was 11. John was apparently in the audience. He was only 9. I could hear him turn and wave to the crowd and say, “Hi, I’m John.” How cute is that? Oh, that was another one of the workshops, but…he was still at that one. I will be completing the other four workshops and once I do that, I probably won’t be giving this one away for free anymore. So get it now!

I absolutely loved those younger years of homeschooling. I still love homeschooling actually. But now the kids are all so self-sufficient I’m not needed quite as much.

Just tonight I was telling someone I don’t even remember teaching Bryan to read. One day – he was just reading. And now he reads a lot! Today he came in my room to tell me he was on page 200 of a book, Brisingr, that he started last night. 

Erica told me she has written over 50,000 words in the past four months or so. Holy Schmoly! The cool thing about my conversation with Erica was that she was bragging on her siblings and their gifts and talents. She asked me if I had seen the picture of the English Wolfhound that Briana had drawn. I had seen it. Erica said, “She could make money selling her drawings!” I’ve actually thought of that. I thought she could make notecards for animal lovers and sell them. But she likes to keep her drawings to herself (and the family).

Erica said to me, “You know, I think the reason we are all passionate about things is because you gave us time to do the stuff we really love doing.” Wow! What a kid!

“We live in a world where bad stories are told, stories that teach us life doesn’t mean anything and that humanity has no great purpose. It’s a good calling, then, to speak a better story. How brightly a better story shines. How easily the world looks to it in wonder. How grateful we are to hear these stories, and how happy it makes us to repeat them.” -Don Miller from A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

Stories of our childhood, Bible stories, and even make-believe stories can all play a part in being able to touch the heart of our children.

When our kids were very young I created a character named Imelda.  Imelda went through many of the same challenges and temptations that my children go through.  Her sin nature always seemed to win out though, and she always had to accept the consequences. 

I must admit I had a picture in my head of Imelda as the little girl on a television show called “Laugh – In” which we watched when I was quite young.  The girl would sit in a giant rocking chair and tell about the things she did to her brother.  I remember one episode when she talked about her little brother having Chicken Pox.  She apparently connected the dots with a permanent marker.
 

I recalled this story when my children had Chicken Pox.  Imelda was born when my poor children were miserable and feeling a bit itchy.  For thirty minutes I shared about Imelda connecting the dots on her little brother.  Meanwhile I pretended on David’s belly to connect his dots using calamine lotion instead of a permanent marker, turning his dots into stars, constellations, a dog, and a cross. From there I was able to share the love of Christ in a simple way to my young children.
 

Another time we were on a six-hour drive heading to Grandma’s house.  The kids were getting a bit rambunctious in the back of our mini-van (yes, there was a time we fit in a mini-van).  As my frustration increased, I knew there must be something I could do.

“Hey, anyone want to hear an Imelda story?”  I shouted.

“Yeah!”  They shouted back in unison.

“Okay, but you must be really quiet so you can hear the story.”

I began a story of Imelda going to visit Grandma in a new, big city.  We talked all about the city and the tall buildings and the wide river that must be crossed.  Imelda, being quite disobedient at times, was very naughty on her ride to her grandmother’s house.  She was not able to sit quietly in the car and her daddy had to pull over. 

As I glanced in my rearview mirror, two of my little children sat wide-eyed as they could almost feel her pain. 

After the story was over, I didn’t have any trouble with my children getting loud for the rest of that trip.  In fact, when we got to the city, they said things like, “Is that the river Imelda crossed?”  “Oh, look at that tall building, just like the one in Mom’s story.”

Stories have a way of reaching into the hearts of our children. 

Today is a day of celebration at our house, as it is the birthday of one of our children.  I called all the little kids in my room. As we all sat on the bed cuddling, I began a story about a little girl who almost wasn’t. Her mommy and daddy had decided that five children were enough for any family. 

But God had a different plan and convinced the Mommy and Daddy that they should allow Him to create life and not hinder it.  The Mommy and Daddy prayed every day that this child would come into the world in a special way, and that the first thing she heard when she was born would be a song of praise to God.

Indeed, our little Briana Sue, which means Strong Lily, would hear a song of praise to God.  And our prayer was also for her to be a living testimony of God’s faithfulness to us.  For God is able to do exceedingly abundantly beyond all that we can ask or imagine.  We could not imagine a young lady so beautiful.  Only God could craft such a remarkable little being.

I had been holding Briana in my arms while I shared the story of the little girl.  She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Is that me, Mommy?”

As I kissed her head I said, “Yes, my dear. You are that beautiful young lady who is a living testimony to the faithfulness of God.”

Quickly there was a chorus of other children saying, “Tell me about when I was born!”

I was tempted to tell them all a story, but this was Briana’s special day.  She was my gift from God on that day.

We planned to barbecue the turkey. (You do that kind of thing in California in November.) My “perfect” Thanksgiving dinner was “less than perfect.”  When Steve went to light up the grill, we were out of briquettes.  All was not lost, however. After a quick trip to the store, we were ready to get cooking. The turkey cooked a lot faster than I expected, so it ended up being done long before the “enchanted broccoli forest.”  Even though my timing was not perfect and some dishes were served cold, I was so proud of our barbecued turkey. It was cooked to perfection.

Steve was pleased that we could have Thanksgiving at our house because that meant lots of leftovers.  Steve’s dad carved the beautiful bird. He put the remainder of the carcass that still had some meat on it in the refrigerator. We had heard that the meat would stay moister if left on the carcass.

After several days, Steve commented that it would be nice to have a turkey sandwich.  “Oh yeah, we have turkey in the fridge,” I replied. I filed that information in my brain to be retrieved at a later date, like the next day.  

After a couple more days passed, I noticed this…uh…smell coming from the refrigerator.  Being a couple of months pregnant, I made a mad dash to the bathroom.         My mind began to race.  What do I do?  I wonder if Steve would mind if I called him to come home from work for this? No, probably not a good idea…The garbage man doesn’t come for a few more days, and I can’t leave that smelly thing in the garbage can. I must take action—now!

I opened the refrigerator and as fast as I could, I pulled the neatly wrapped carcass out.  Without breathing, I ran to the garage, put the turkey down, then ran back into the house and took a deep breath. 

Now what do I do?

A brilliant idea popped into my head. I will put it into someone else’s garbage. 

I opened the garage door and ran the carcass out to the car. Oh no! I don’t want that in my car.  I put it on the hood.  That’ll work! 

I got in the car and began to drive.  I kept looking behind me.  I was sure I would be found out.  Nope, no dogs chasing me yet.

I found a dumpster, heaved it in, and ran back to the car.  Whew! I made it.  Driving back to the house I felt like I had somehow participated in a great feat of espionage. I should have worn a dark coat on my adventure.

My thoughts returned to why I put the carcass in the refrigerator in the first place. Oops!   Now that that’s taken care of, how am I going to make Steve a leftover turkey sandwich?

Since my little carcass incident, I have made a Thanksgiving motto.  As soon as the turkey is carved I say, “Out with the carcass!” I have learned since then that it is okay to take all of the turkey off the bone.  It is even okay to freeze it. I just cut up all the leftover turkey into bite-sized pieces and fill up Ziploc freezer bags with about two cups of meat in each bag. Of course, you should label and date the bags so you don’t forget what is in them or forget how old the meat is. I only tell you this because I forget to label everything and you should learn from my mistakes.

What are some of the mistakes you’ve made around the holidays? Do you have any funny stories to share?

I love being in real estate. It’s so rewarding to me to market a well-priced house and have it sell right away. Or take a buyer to several homes then finally finding one myself because I’ve spent hours pouring over listings to find just what they are looking for in a house. They walk in and their eyes light up. I love that!

The hard part though, is the up and down financial thing. When it’s going well…it’s going well. But if I don’t have a sale one month, I don’t have electricity the next month. That’s STRESSFUL!

Every once in awhile I entertain the idea of “getting a job.” Now, you may think I’m lazy because I don’t want to leave home every day and be gone for about 50 hours a week in order to bring home enough money to just barely scrape by. I’ve made a committment to my kids that I will be here for them.

I love the idea of running my own business, even if it means long hours working at home. That’s okay, because I’m here. I’m constantly inventing new products in my mind or figuring out a way to make what I love to do, writing, speaking, inspiring, and encouraging into a money making venture. But quite honestly most people see that as a ministry, not something worthy of pay.

Just the other day I was working again on how to be able to have some kind of steady income so the stress of getting my electricity turned off wouldn’t happen quite so frequently. I was thinking about some of the changes I need to make in my life. So I came up with a plan: A New You by The New Year! at Tadahmom.com If I can get people to sign up (basically it helps cover my time and expense) then I could have a steady income, even if it’s not enough to meet all of my expenses, it could help take some of the pressure off in the financial realm of my life, plus it could help me develop the products that Moms need! – like the “inspector gadget extend an arm” for backseat fighting children. (I’m kidding about that) But there are a lot of products in the works, like the Itty Bitty Pity Party Package.

I’ll help you – and you’ll help me. I love when things work out like that! The more people we have join, the more brilliant minds we have working to help each other. We are going to transform our lives! We are going to set goals! We are going to share our successes. We don’t have failures, we only have opportunities. We are going to encourage each other. It is a community of moms who need some accountability to move forward – or onward and upward. For a small monthly fee of just $4.95 you can be a part of something huge!

I’ve talked with several of the internet experts and they tell me, that’s not enough! You have to charge way more than that. One even said, “Terri, you should be charging at least $45.00 an hour for your services.” You’re giving too much away! I stuck my tongue out at them. They didn’t know it though because we were chatting online. I know I’m not the internet expert here. I’m not trying to be. I just know that I have a need, and I have a lot to offer. So, that’s where I am. I want to make my services available to every mom regardless. That’s why I set the price at $4.95 a month. EVERY mom can afford that to make a positive difference in her life. That’s cheaper than most magazines! And you won’t be inundated with ads. Even one of my books costs about the same as THREE MONTHS of subscription. And you get new and fresh content. How cool is that?!

I’ve set up the website and the community. You actually can join the community for free, but you don’t have access to all the materials that will be available. For the small price, you’ll want to become a member of the site. The more people we have the more “experts” we’ll end up having within our ranks. So spread the word to your friends…join Tadah Mom.com TODAY!

The first challenge is the “New You by The New Year” Challenge. Through a series of fairly painless assignments you will be in charge of your destiny. We aren’t going to wait for the New Year to make our resolutions. We are going to make them now! Then when the new year comes, we’re going to have a giant celebration!

Are you ready to change your life?!? Okay, maybe you don’t need a complete new you. I know people who are nearly perfect, yet they still want to set goals and have someone hold them accountable. But even more so, they want someone to encourage them along the way.

As moms, we just don’t get enough of that. I’m here to change all that!

One of my goals is to help 1 Thousand Moms by the new year to live happy lives with much less stress. Want to help me reach one of my goals??? Who knows…maybe I’ll reach that goal much sooner…with your help…I can!

Sign up and follow me in the community – cheer me on – be a part of a movement of moms who at the end of the day can shout, “Ta-Dah!”