The countdown to Christmas is here and from what I witnessed this weekend, the shopping frenzy has started. The malls are bursting with people and the hum of conversation almost drowns out the carols that are being played through the internal sound system. The parking lots have become more like scenes from movies like ‘Gone in 60 Seconds’ or perhaps ‘Smash Up Derby’. Finding the perfect spot and securing it, before someone else squeezes in without a nod is quickly becoming the norm. Everyone seems to be in a rush to get the perfect gift for that special someone. Others have lists as long as their arm with names scratched out and check marks in the appropriate columns. Simply put, it’s a crazy situation out there.

Gift buying is such a beautiful thing, especially when it’s well thought out and not just a quick pick off the shelf. For many of us, we have been racking our brains for the perfect gift for our children or perhaps grandchildren. Advertisers are busy sharing their messages about their product through television, flyers and email notifications. They definitely influence us and sometimes help us with our purchasing decisions. Whatever the case may be, there is a message to ‘buy now’ and that without specific products both your child/grandchild and ourselves will be less of a human being if we don’t have or purchase the product of the season.

We recently read or heard about the chaos surrounding Black Friday shopping in the USA. One 61 year old man was trampled to death during a rush to buy. Another woman sprayed a fellow shopper with pepper spray, all in an effort to secure the product she wanted. This is where I question need versus want. Whenever buying, whether it be during the Christmas season or not, I ask myself and my children to determine whether the decision to purchase is based on a need or a want. I ask this just to give us a moment to pause and to consider.

A few Christmas’ ago my youngest (at the time she was 3.5 yrs old) was still at that tender age when the boxes and wrapping paper (post gift opening) were the most exciting part of Christmas morning. My husband and I had wondered what to give her, we considered the season’s popular Princess Barbie but knew that wasn’t really what made her smile. I think we considered it because advertisers were telling us to, yet it didn’t fit her personality, so what was the point of buying a $40.00 Barbie just because we felt obliged to.

As Christmas day approached and the excitement in the house grew with the impending arrival of Santa Claus, my little one found herself drawn to the tree. She simply couldn’t resist the shiny paper, the well-wrapped gifts shouting ‘tear me open’. She joyfully shook every gift and tried her hardest to peek, without tearing the paper. She kept track of the days through her chocolate advent calendar and would check the fireplace (on a regular basis) to make sure Santa’s landing place was acceptable. She was the picture of excitement and a beautiful example of what Christmas can bring to a heart, whether young or old.

Finally, the morning arrived and it was time to find out what was hidden beneath the shiny paper. Our designated Santa handed out each gift with a HO, HO, HO. The excitement in the room could have been bottled and sold for a hefty price. My youngest ripped and tore and unwrapped like a wild child. She squealed with delight when she saw ‘Darla’ the doll she had been hoping and praying for. There were a few barbies to add to her collection, however not the expensive and very popular Princess Barbie, yet even these caused her to jump for joy and giggle with excitement. In that moment, as we watched our three children unwrap their gifts, every line-up we had stood in, every wintery road we had driven on, every hour of wrapping felt so good and was worth it. Thankfully, we hadn’t gone overboard, we didn’t break our budget yet our kids didn’t miss out on any of the excitement of Christmas.

Finally, a few last little gifts were distributed. My little one was handed a flimsy gift that was wrapped in the ‘left over’ pieces of paper because this gift was mostly an after thought. Mustering the same enthusiasm as she had when opening her doll ‘Darla’ she tore open this seemingly lesser gift and much to her surprise and overwhelming pleasure it contained a pack of four Hilroy scribblers that cost a total of $1.49. You see, our little one loved (in her words) to do homework. From the time she could hold a pencil she would write, draw and scribble on any piece of paper she could find. So, in an effort to keep her homework and art together we bought her a set of scribblers.

After the lines, the consideration and the conversations about what to get her, our little girl stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by her new doll, her Barbies, some candies and a few other gifts and exclaimed for all to hear, “This is the bestest present I ever gotted”.

I share this with you to help take the pressure off. We are so conditioned, for a number of reasons, to think that our children need the latest and greatest in every area of life. The pressure can be overwhelming and at times crippling. Through this little story and the words of a 3.5-year-old may I encourage you to be creative and know that your children, like mine, will not suffer, nor will they be forever damaged if they don’t have exactly what they want, when they want it. Sometimes the greatest gifts cost the least.

Use kind words, your arms of love and hearts of compassion and see your family go from strength to strength.
Susan ~

Many or most of you know that my passion is family. I grew up in a great family and we lived in a wonderful home. Our home was one that was created and specifically designed to grow strong family. With that goal in mind, my parents worked tirelessly to make sure our needs (physical, emotional and spiritual) were met. In meeting our needs they also made sure that fun was a huge component to our healthy living.

Susan xo

Last weekend was the Queen’s birthday long weekend in Australia and like almost every other Aussie, Mannie and I packed the car, stocked up on winter woollies, plugged in our favourite road trip playlist to date and headed south for Philip Island with 12 other friends.

A weekend of too much food, games galore, raucous laughter, exploring, climbing trees, spotlight in the dark with the kids before hot chocolates by the open fire, etc…it was truly a memory making time for all.

Here are some pics of the amazing coast which was about 100 metres from our holiday house at Surf Beach…Australia’s beauty absolutely blows me away…it’s no wonder dreamtime began here…

The filter I’ve used on these pics is MoreLomo which is an iPhone app.

Family road trip suggestions are most welcome…

I have recently started playing soccer…..again. Soccer was my high school sport and it was something I loved. It is a game I have enjoyed watching through my adult years and have never ‘found the time’ to get back into it. What with having babies and managing their schedules I, like many mother’s out there, put myself on the back burner. This year, I determined to make a change, I was heading back onto the soccer pitch and playing the game I loved so much.

My first practice was interesting, the snow hadn’t melted yet so it was an indoor practice. When I arrived I was greeted by a number of nice women my age and older (it’s a +35 league). As we all began getting ready and preparing to practice I noticed something that alarmed me. I noticed a number of braces on knees, extra padding and clearly marked lines where knee surgery had been performed. I sat quietly, lacing my soccer boots and tried my hardest not to stare. I was unsuccessful. I couldn’t believe the number of wounds and aches and pains I saw. I was scared. I hadn’t expected this. I’m not sure why but when I signed up, it was the 14 year old girl that went through the paper work and whilst preparing to attend my first practice I think she was again at the helm.

We headed into the gym and practice began. I was quick to realise that the 14 year old girl wasn’t as she once was. I was out of breath and hurting in places that hadn’t felt pain in quite some time. I was checking the clock, praying for it to move at the speed of light so practice would end. It didn’t happen but I refused to stop. I could do this. Practice finally ended and home we went. I had that feeling that I longed for, that post work out or post full day of skiing feeling. The feeling you get when you’ve exhausted yourself physically and when you’ve pushed boundaries. I felt great.

Waking up the next morning was another experience I didn’t expect. I HURT EVERYWHERE. I could hardly walk. Where was that 14 year old girl I remember so well. Strangely she felt 41 and terribly out of shape. The 14 year old girl inside could feel the pregnancies, the way her body had changed and that things just weren’t as she remembered. It took days to feel somewhat normal again and the Rub A-535 deep heat didn’t leave my sight. I soaked in the bath with epsom salts praying for some relief. I took Advil, hoping that the inflamation would decrease. I quickly realised that I was no longer that 14 year old girl who could run circles around the other players, rather I was a mother of three who has sat on the sidelines cheering and preferring the schedules of her children rather than that of my own. This rude awakening made me realise that I needed to get back on that pitch, that I needed to improve my level of fitness if I wanted to live the life I dream about. I recognised that it wasn’t going to happen over night but that it was going to happen one painful muscle move at a time.

Last Sunday I had my first outdoor practice and another thing I’ve learned as a 41 year old player is that the things that mattered to my 14 year old self no longer matter. Things like: how I looked in my uniform, matching shoes, socks, shirt and shorts, which teenage boy was on the stands watching, etc. As a 41 year old, mother of three playing what matters is: how close is the portaloo, monitoring the amount of fluid in take whilst playing to avoid countless portaloo breaks, how my ankles feel, how supportive my bra and underpants are and sadly whether your legs are acceptable to be revealed to unknowing public. How life can change on a dime.

I’m happy to report that I am sticking with my soccer. I can’t wait for the first game and I’m excited to have my family on the sidelines cheering for me. No longer looking for the teenage boy cheering me on but rather smiling at my 43 year old husband, the father of my three smiling children who will be sitting alongside him, cheering like their mother has cheered for them and will continue to do so for years to come. I can’t wait to get out there……. I just have to make sure that the calf muscle I pulled during our outdoor practice is fully healed. Sports at 41 vs 14……who would have thought.

Susan xo

There is a saying that most of you probably know. It goes like this ‘The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Tree’. This saying has become very real to me in the last few weeks through my eldest daughter, Sophia. I recently received an email from her language arts teacher that was titled OMG (Oh My Goodness) the content of the email was as follows: ‘Hey Susan. OMG!  Did you read Sohpia’s eulogy speech?  She totally made me cry. That girl is extremely talented!!!!!!  Must be her fabulous teacher. Seriously, I’d love to take the credit, but I’m sure her mom has more to do with it!!!!!!!  Fantastic writer!!!!!’

As you can well imagine I was overjoyed to receive such a lovely email from a teacher and she confirmed what I was coming to understand, that my daughter, at the young age of 12, is a gifted writer.

Like any proud mother I want to share her accomplishments with you, my readers. Also, I think it’s amazing that at 12 years of age she is being published for the first time ~ in this column. Who knows where she may end up and what this publishing may do for her. If anything, it will help build her confidence, it will challenge her and hopefully motivate her to create more, to let her mind expand and to write even more. I know that through reading her writings I have been motivated, challenged and inspired. I see, through the words of my 12 year old that the ways, in which, Philip and I are raising her and her sibilings, the things we are instilling in them are good. Through Sophia’s words I think I’m getting a glimpse at the fruit that comes from our little family family tree. What I see is good fruit and my heart smiles.

The class assignment was to write a eulogy about something (thankfully not someone). They had to pick something and write about it and then present in front of the class. Sophia wrote beautifully and with poise and elegance presented her writing to her class. Through her writing I have come to understand the saying about the apple and the tree. I don’t think this little apple has fallen far from the tree and maybe I, as an apple, didn’t fall far from the tree of my origin.  I hope you enjoy!

The Difference Between a House and a Home

By Sophia Sohn: March 12, 2011

It was a simpler time, when all I needed to be entertained for hours at a time was a piece of paper and a crayon. Like most five year olds, my drawings were usually pink and they were usually of princesses, fairies, and castles. They were drawings that showed who I was and who I wanted to be. I was going to be a princess and I would have a gorgeous Prince and we would live together in our castle.

In reality my castle was located on 18 Old Glenhaven Road, Sydney, Australia. There were no turrets, no moats, no knights in shining armour, and there was absolutely nothing pink about this house. I never realized how much I loved my house until it was gone.

It wasn’t a huge house. It wasn’t little either. The simplicity of it was what made it beautiful. Maybe I was the only person that thought it was beautiful. Maybe I was the only one who enjoyed the swing set outside. Maybe I was the only one who liked my small wooden cubby house. Maybe other people didn’t appreciate it the way I did. If people didn’t like my house then they sure didn’t show it. My house was never empty.

Maybe that’s because it isn’t just a house. My house was an actress and as a little girl I often had friends over, and my house soon became my castle, my secret lair, and once it even became the school from high school musical (the movie).

The most important role it ever had was my home.

Sure it wasn’t my first house, but it was definitely my first home. It was where our family started. It was a home that would forever hold some of our most precious memories. It was where we laughed together, cried together, celebrated together, mourned together, and learned to love each other.

We are gathered here today to honour this house that soon became three little childrens’ home, their safe haven, the place they would run to if anything went wrong. The place where these little kids would grow up. This home has become part of my family. I grew up with it, and alongside my parents it watched me grow, it watched me go from a pink room to a green room, it watched me go from a size 1 shoe to a size 4 shoe, it watched me laugh and watched me cry, and it watched me run to it and it watched me run away from it.

I’ve come to a point in my life where I’ve had to learn to give up things, and sacrifice things for other people. When my parents told me that we were moving I didn’t want to let go.  Personally, I think that letting go is one of the hardest things that we as people have to do. No person in the world is perfect, nobody wants to let things go, and neither did I, but it was something that I had to do.

I loved my house. It was special. It was comforting. And it was home. That’s why it will always have a spot in my heart. Thank you and always remember “A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.”

Well friends today on RealLife Radio we had a panel of mums who have kids ranging from 3-25. We had Tanya who has a 3-year-old boy, Elizabeth who has 4 children ranging in age from 3-10 and Suzie who has Stacey 25, James 20 and Faith 17. The conversation was great and one all mum’s should listen to.

I asked my guests (at the end of the show) what their top 3 tips would be and here they are:

Tanya’s Top Tips – Making it through the Toddler Years:
1) Have friends
2) Be consistent
3) Be intentional

Elizabeth’s Top Tips – Making it through the 1st 10 years with 4 children:
1) A good bubble bath can help any situation (and that’s for mum not the kiddies)
2) Just listen
3) Loving them will cover all

Suzie’s Top Ten Tips – Making it through the teen years:
1) Sit back, shut up and pray harder
2) Know where your kids are at all times
3) Keep your marriage strong

Extraordinary tips from 3 extraordinary mothers who are raising strong, confident children and young adults.

Susan

This weekend was a big one for our family. We packed the car, picked up the kids from school and literally headed for the hills. We were attending my cousin’s wedding which was being held in a town 4 hours away, a town that is nestled in the beautiful Canadian Rockies. The drive was smooth and the scenery breath taking. For those of you who have never had the opportunity to drive through the Rockies can I suggest you put it on your ‘must do’ list. Around every twist and turn your breath is taken away by beauty and majesty. A definite reminder that God exists and nature is just one expression of this existence I refer to.

As we drove towards the fun and festivity the weekend promised there was a heaviness in our hearts. Only days earlier a dear friend who has been battling breast cancer took a turn for the worse. Her battle had become a fight. So in all of our excitement we had for my cousin and the weekend she had dreamed of, we silently ached, knowing that hours away our beautiful friend, Judy, could possibly pass from here to eternity and take her last breath.

Upon arriving at our destination we settled our children into the hotel, movies were on, snacks at the ready. This allowed Philip and I the opportunity to head down to the rehearsal party. We chatted and caught up with family and friends and fully engaged in the evening, it was relaxing and fun. I was enjoying the conversation and the much needed laughter but at 9:28pm I heard my phone buzz, indicating to me that I had received a text message. Fumbling through my bag I found my phone and with hesitation pressed the message receive button. My heart was pounding and I think I quietly knew what to expect. I breathed, blinked my eyes a few times and with all the courage I could muster I clicked on the message from my friend, Heather. The message was short and to the point and simply said, “Judy is gone to be with Jesus.”

My husband and I graciously excused ourselves for the evening and headed to our car. We clung to each other as we walked through the snow and on the icy road. The road being so slippery reminded me of life, sometimes your feet can come out from right under you. Sometimes the ground you are walking on isn’t so secure. Before getting into the car I looked back at the venue we had just left, the joyful sounds of laughter could still be heard and through the windows I could see the merriment that continued. I realized that even in the midst of beautiful joy and celebration sometimes sadness can find it’s way through the crowd.

Today, as I reflect on the weekend, my heart leaps for joy as I think of my cousin and how she is walking into her future with her new husband by her side. I think of my beautiful friend, Judy whom we are saying good-bye to and although my heart breaks because we will miss her and life won’t be the same without her added sparkle. I feel my heart skip a beat because through my faith in God I know that she now stands on solid ground, healed, whole and embracing eternity.

The words I hold onto today can be found in Ecclesiastes 1:3~8

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather then, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

Take time today to hug those who are close, call those who are far and let them know that your life is better because they are in it.
Susan

As many of my readers will remember, my late father, Graham Taylor, loved a good garage sale. He would drive miles to pick through odds and ends. Never did a sale go by that he didn’t return with a treasure chest (actually it was his red truck) bursting with gidgets and gadgets. Sometimes he would even return with the odd live animal perhaps a dishwasher for a cool $5.00 or a much needed tea set. You never knew what would accompany him on his return.

He loved garage sales and would often marvel at what people would sell. He would giggle away as he shared stories about buying a crystal water jug for $2.00. He would tell us how he was sure the seller had no idea it was crystal and what a steal he got. Then of course there were the old books, that now line the shelves of my mothers home. My father was a man who loved the written word. He knew his grandchildren loved to read as well and for him, finding a box of classics on a table for $10.00 was hard to pass up. I must admit, just last night my daughter cracked the cover of one of his book buys. She loves to read them and is reminded of him with every page she turns. Every once in awhile the kids are surprised with a hand written note on the inside. Grandpa always made sure he documented things, even down to the smallest of events and here my kids are treated with yet another memory of a great man.

Whilst we were living in Wolseley (a few years ago) there was a garage sale in town. Dad was up and wanted to get there early because he knew it was going to be a good sale. The lady hosting it had three children, so my father new that there would kids toys and more. He wanted to dive in and make a few purchases that would put smiles on his grandchildren’s faces.

My mum and I stayed home and let my dad have his fun. After about 30 minutes of being away we heard the kitchen door open. There was laughter and the kids were anxious to see what grandpa had bought. He pulled out toys and trinkets and of course, books. There was one purchase that seemed a little odd, almost like the saying ‘one of those things is not like the other’. He had bought a pair of Mukluks for $1.00. He pulled the Mukluks out and with perfect form created an impromtu presentation ceremony and presented them to my daughter Sophia. You see, my father knew how much Sophia loved fashion. He saw something in these used Mukluks that said ‘Sophia’.

To my surprise my daughter squealed with excitement, wrapped her arms around grandpa’s neck and thanked him over and over. Now, fast forward 3 years and these well used Mukluks have been, since the first day of receiving them, her everyday shoes. She has been stopped by the most fashionable women in shops and on the streets of many cities to ask where she purchased them. Mother’s at school comment on her style and how much they like them and girlfriends ask to borrow them. Who would have guessed that a pair of $1.00 Mukluks bought from a garage sale could create such conversation and in some cases even coveting.

This past weekend our family was in Edmonton attending our son’s soccer tournament. Between games we braved the West Edmonton Mall for some retail therapy. Whilst shopping my daughter was (once again) stopped in her tracks by a fellow female shopper and was asked where she got her Mukluks. She responded by saying, “My grandfather bought them for me for $1.00 at a garage sale.” The girls face flashed with shock and responded by saying, “I’ll buy them from you for $50.00.” To which Sophia replied by saying, “No thank you, I really like them.” We parted ways and as we did, we marvelled at the lure of these Mukluks.

We carried on shopping and an hour later bumped into the same girl again. This time she greeted Sophia with, “Okay, I really want those Mukluks. Can I offer you $100.00 right now and you can go and buy any new shoe you want?” Sophia graciously replied, “Thank you but no thanks, these are really special to me.” We parted ways and again we marvelled at the conversation surrounding the hand-made footwear.

Who would have thought that my father’s $1.00 purchase at a garage sale would create so much conversation. As her mother I’m not sure that it’s the Mukluks that really shine, rather I believe it’s the beautiful girl that walks in them that gives them their lustre. These Mukluks are special because they were the last gift my father ever gave my daughter. The gift had almost no monetary value to them but it was a gift from the heart. My father SAW who my daughter really was, he took the time to know her and now through these $1.00 Mukluks and the attention they bring, she is reminded every time she wears them how much she was and is loved. How her grandfather saw her and that’s a gift that no one can buy, no one can ever take away or touch because it’s locked in the secret place in her heart.

One girls trash truly can be another girls treasure.

Susan

I’m writing this article from the comfort of my Hong Kong hotel room. I am looking out my window at one of the most extraordinary skylines the world has to offer. Flashing billboards advertising all the major brands dance across buildings and reflect on the Hong Kong Harbour. I can hear the bustling streets that are still buzzing with activity at 11pm. This city is one of a kind and was a city I called home for 10 years. It is a place that holds sights and sounds that are near dear to me and a place I love to come and visit.

Tonight my hubby and I enjoyed dinner at a restaurant called ‘Under the Bridge Spicy Crab’. The restaurant is known for it’s spicy crab and it’s located under a bridge so the name truly speaks for itself. Our meal was, like most meals in Hong Kong, exceptional. The food was prepared to perfection and we savoured every bite.

Hong Kong is known for it’s culinary delights and residents and visitors are rarely disappointed. Strangely however, the food and the service are vastly different. In Hong Kong, service in a Chinese restaurant is usually at best brusque and at worst rude. Everything seems to happen at the speed of light and the staff turn tables over so quickly that engaging in customer service isn’t a priority. It’s service and communication on a need-to-know basis only.

To my surprise, the experience tonight was different. Our waitress was a kind, gentle lady who took care of us well. She had a way about her that oozed kindness and simple goodness. I could see something special in this woman and over dinner shared my thoughts with my husband. He too could see what I saw and felt from this lady.

As we finished our meal and requested the bill my husband decided to tell the woman what I had said. He spoke to her in Cantonese and said, ‘My wife thinks you are a very good person.” The lady covered her mouth, giggled and went very red and then replied by saying, ‘No one has ever said that to me before in my life. It makes me very happy. Thank You.’

I was surprised that being such an obviously kind woman she had never heard those words before. I realise that culturally this isn’t something Chinese people speak openly about so I’m glad my husband shared my thoughts with her. You see, you never really know what someone may need to hear and a kind word really does goes a very long way. Let’s not hold back on our kindness and our honest compliments, let’s encourage one another because by doing so we give each other courage. I wonder who that woman will touch now with her added courage. You really never know.

Susan xo

I’m writing this article from the comfort of my couch, the fire is dancing in front of me, billowy pillows surround me, my legs are stretched out and my feet are resting comfortably on my coffee table, my computer nestled nicely on my lap. I’m comfy. It is morning and it’s the quiet of the morning which is my favourite time of day. The kids are still nestled in their beds and the house is quiet. This is my time to focus, pray and dream. I love the quiet of the morning.

Here’s a video of my friends, Barry Southgate and Darlene Zschech, singing this song. Enjoy friends.