Telling Tales

By ANGEL KANE,
Wilson Living Magazine
On any given Monday, if you ask me what I’m doing – I’ll tell you – “I’m dieting.”  It’s been that way since I was 16. And there isn’t a diet out there that I haven’t tried.

I’ve been on the Hollywood Diet, a 48 hour diet comprised of only drinking a fruit juice concoction. (I lasted one day) The Cleansing Diet, a three day diet comprised of only drinking water mixed with lemon juice, maple syrup and cayenne pepper. (I lasted one sip) The Rice Diet, a week long diet comprised of ….you guessed it ….rice. (I lasted two bowls) Followed by all the usual suspects … Atkins, Weight Watchers, The Zone…. (three days, two days, one day).

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
It’s no secret to my friends, family and anyone wandering the cleaning isle of the local grocery that I don’t enjoy cleaning. I enjoy cooking, eating, reading. I do not enjoy cleaning. It’s a necessary evil though so I oblige with my barrage of cleaning products neatly placed in a storage caddy that I carry from room to room. The only time I stop complaining is when I’m gagging while cleaning my boys’ bathroom. (I will never understand how a man can be trained to hit a target at one thousand yards away but hitting the space inside a toilet eludes him?)

By ANGEL KANE
Wilson Living Magazine
So I am pretty sure when God was handing out the “sporty” gene, I was somewhere in the back of the room engrossed in a Lifetime movie starring either Valerie Bertinelli or  Jacqueline Smith.

Nevertheless, he sent me down to earth without it…and since that day I have been paying the price.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
He lay there in the exam chair, feet hanging off the end, a fluorescent light shining down, watching the Discovery Channel playing on the ceiling. We were at the dentist. It was an ordinary Monday for me, an extraordinary Monday for my oldest since he was getting to miss a half-day of school to get his teeth cleaned.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Somewhere in history, who knows when, it became clear that enough was not enough. It was probably somewhere between Cleopatra and Marc Antony’s demise at the Battle of Actium when they knew death was not far off that Cleo turned to Mark and said,

“Why didn’t you bring more than two spears? Now we are staring death in the face”
“Maybe if you would have packed more”
‘Maybe if you would have bought more”
“If you can tell me where I can buy more than two at a time, I’ll do it. Until then, shut up and fight!”

By ANGEL KANE,
Wilson Living Magazine

I love when my brother and his family come for a visit. And this past weekend, they were in Lebanon to spend Easter with us. Soon after arriving, we all decided to head to the creek. As we were walking through the woods behind our house, my four year old nephew ran ahead. As he did, my brother yelled out…

By BECKY ANDREWS, Wilson Living Magazine
Have we met? Perhaps you’ve heard of me. I’m the meanest mom in the world. At least that’s what my 11-year-old has been calling me lately. Amazing how this new nickname came so soon after Christmas.

I guess the first time I heard that little term of endearment from him was a year ago when I refused to even discuss getting him a cell phone.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
Sitting in line waiting to pick up my kids from a birthday party at a bouncy place,  I looked around at all the bumpers and realized I was sitting in the company of greatness, and according to one in particular- terrificness. Because of all the decals and magnets it felt like being in pit lane at the Daytona 500.

By ANGEL KANE,
Wilson Living Magazine
For the first time in many years, we decided to stay home during Spring Break. To which our children responded …

“We never get to go anywhere. Our life is horrible. Why do you hate us?”

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
In order to own gun there is a legal protocol that must be followed. There’s a background check, the purchaser must be of legal age, and after a mandatory waiting period you will become the proud owner of a firearm.

Some gun owners opt to take safety classes, which is fabulous. It amazes me that with all a person has to go through in order to purchase a firearm, any idiot with enough cash or high enough credit limit can go into any big box retailer and buy their very own digital camera to go about town shooting whatever they choose… without warning.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
A few days ago I caught Angel in a weak moment, and before she knew it we -- along with our friend, Beth -- were on the interstate headed to Hot Yoga. What was the catalyst for a spur of the moment, mid-week trip to a facility that boasts a 110-degree room and instructors who encourage students to clear the mind of all distractions? Honestly, I forgot.

By ANGEL KANE
Wilson Living Magazine
Having attended Catholic schools, I am well versed in all the requirements that surround Lent. Mind you, I am not Catholic but consider myself Catholic by association.

I recall the nuns at my school going around the class and asking each one of us what we were giving up for Lent. To be honest, being a non-catholic I felt somewhat persecuted that I had to give up anything. 

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
Upon hearing this term for the first time, I thought it was some obnoxious sales plug for a shopping center. That is, until I came home one afternoon, stepped into the bonus room where my husband and our two children sat staring intently at the television.

By BECKY ANDREWS
Wilson Living Magazine
I’d been dreading this moment since the day he was born. (OK. That’s probably a little melodramatic.)

I didn’t even know this would be awkward. Before becoming a parent and right up until this day, I swore I was going to be a cool, open-minded, honest parent who answers ALL of my children’s questions.

By ANGEL KANE, Wilson Living Magazine

No matter where you go these days or what you do, it seems somebody or other wants you to list your “emergency contacts.”

If you are like me, you don’t hesitate on the first one. I always list my husband because he is ultra dependable. But #2 is a problem.

In some ways, I believe your list of “emergency contacts” should be privileged information. Nobody needs to know if they are or are not on the list until duty calls.

By BECKY ANDREWS
I’ve hit mid life. While my older sister disagrees saying she’s not even mid life, I know it’s here. I can feel it in my bones, in my digestive track and I can see it in the crow’s feet once thought to be laugh lines.

I seem to be traveling fairly rapidly up the metaphorical hill so that one day I can dig my heels in to prevent from sliding down. It appears that not only is my age increasing in years and months but the cost to keep those years and months too noticeable increasing as well.

By ANGEL KANE
Wilson Living Magazine

As we were rushing to get ready for school Wednesday morning, the words I heard stopped me in my tracks. From the kitchen, I could hear my middle child revealing a closely guarded family secret. One I had demanded never to be exposed!

“Oh yeah - well I don’t care what you call me,” she said, “because you wear girl shirts to school!” (And she wasn’t talking to her sister.)

By BECKY ANDREWS,
Wilson Living Magazine

I started taking an interest on the subject of Birth Order after becoming an adult. Mainly because I had grown tired of my older siblings treating me like I’m still 5. Birth order explains a lot about a person’s behavior; especially a person who comes from a family of six children. I am number four in that order.

I love my oldest brother and sisters but this sibling battle has been going on since they were born first and my parents began referring to their younger children as “the babies.” A term my dad still uses to this day to describe us.

By ANGEL KANE, Wilson Living Magazine

My favorite, favorite thing to do is to get up before everyone else, make myself a cup of coffee and savor it for a good 10 minutes. And when that doesn’t happen….

So on Saturday morning, as I was making my way down the hall to my coffee maker, out of the shadows emerged a figure.

By BECKY ANDREWS
A few years ago my husband and I along with our children, moved back to Lebanon. Upon returning, I renewed friendships with a few people I grew up with. When we were young, I envied their family life.

They seemed to have everything. Their parents had ‘regular jobs’. They had one, maybe two siblings, a beautifully decorated home, a mom who was always put together with perfectly coordinated clothing in the latest styles and a dad that played golf and coached little league. They even had grandparents who attended ball games, birthday parties, and never missed an opportunity to spoil their grandchildren with extravagant gifts.