One of the things I remember most about growing up in Des Moines was the neighborhood and the neighbors.  Specifically, that we knew them.  Some of them we knew really well.  I played with the neighborhood kids every day, and my parents socialized with the people who lived around us.  Impromptu cookouts, a swim in the neighbor’s pool, even social outings together were the norm.  To this day, I could still tell you the names, first and last plus some of the extended families, of the people who lived on our street when I was a kid, because they were our neighbors and we KNEW them.

Today it seems like it’s a different world.  My husband and I have lived a lot of places in our 16 years of marriage and sure, we usually get to know the names of one or two families around us, especially if they have kids near our kids’ ages.  But socialize?  No.  Really know?  No.

People are busier now.  More focused on the insane laundry list of activities they have to get their family members to, the extra hours at the day job, the rigid TV schedule they feel they can’t miss.  Neighbors are people we live by, not people we really know.  It’s easier that way, because people move more often.

But last spring, when we were still new to the city and barely knew anyone, someone in the neighborhood started something.  Monday Night Neighborhood Kickball.  Sounds simple, right?  It is. The simple of a past era. 

Everyone in the neighborhood (several blocks’ worth) is welcome.  Monday nights, 2 hours.  Come to the park.  Bring a dish to share if you want, or eat beforehand if it’s easier.  Just…show up. 

Some of the kids play kickball, and some of the parents join in.  Mostly the moms congregate in the shelter and talk.  A lot of the dads become basemen (we don’t play teams.  It’s not that organized.)  Several families with really young kids use the play equipment, socialize, grab a bite.  The fifth grade boys often chase and wrestle instead of play ball.  The second-grade girls form a giggly, pink gang and find ways to entertain themselves that generally don’t include sports.

People eat, drink, play, talk, run, yell, burn off energy, get some exercise and…get to know the neighbors.  All because one family thought it would be a good social outlet for their kids. 

So simple and yet…how many people would actually take the time to organize such a thing? 

Last night a man was there, one of the fathers, who’d been overseas all summer.  He’d been part of the email group so knew of the weekly event but hadn’t previously been able to attend.  As he told the woman who organized it, “You’ve turned back time forty years!  What a gift you’ve given the neighborhood!”

So here’s to Sharon, our neighborhood’s time-travel goddess, who went to the trouble of calling the city parks department, buying some bases and a ball, and setting up an email group.  So simple and yet…so few would do it.  Maybe next week, for the last kickball session of the season, we’ll bring Sharon a gift of highest appreciation…blue margaritas. 

(Side note: why yes, it’s a new personal goal to bring up margaritas in every single blog post. )

We’ve been trying to sell our house in Kansas for over a year now. My parents have had a house on the market there for two months as well.  I haven’t talked much about it because sometimes denial is the best policy, but the past few weeks have dragged me screaming from my blissful ignorance.

When we hit the year mark, insanity overtook us and we decided to try to rent out our townhouse.

My parents have shown our place to quite a few parties, and before you go thinking I’m an aspiring slum lord, I’ll state that our townhouse is nice.  It’s 7 years old, 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, 2-car garage, finished walkout basement, 2 decks that overlook a wooded area, fenced backyard, tile floors, fireplace.  Quiet neighborhood in the best school district in Lawrence.  I’m just putting that out there because the way our rental crusade has gone so far, you’d think it was a broken-down double-wide on concrete blocks with the roof missing on one side.

First there was Potential Tenant (PT) A.  She went through the place.  More than a week went by before she got around to deciding she wanted it.  Took another week to send in her application.  Took yet another week to respond to my message that she was approved.  I sent the lease with details about signing it, paying, getting the keys.  I called her and left a message 10 times or so over the next week, and then I watched the date we’d agreed for the lease to begin come and go with no word from her.  Haven’t heard a word since.

Then we had PTB, who had called during the above waste of time with PTA.  PTB REALLY WANTED our townhouse.  When I called her back after PTA flaked, PTB was so excited and grateful.  She felt like it was “meant to be.”  We had a 10-minute conversation about how much she knew it was the ideal place for her and her children, during which she got so emotional she was nearly in tears.  (Note to self:  beware of emotional teary PTs.)  She applied and when I called a couple days later to tell her she was approved, she informed me she was looking at another place.  “Just to be sure.”

Well, the other place had…wait for it…4.5 bathrooms instead of our 2.5, so she was sure I would understand how she couldn’t turn that down, that it was the ideal place for her and her 2 children.  Because everyone needs 1.5 bathrooms per person right?  (Have fun cleaning the toilets, honey.)

Then there’s my parents.  They have a beautiful newer house, a coveted ranch with a gorgeous backyard.  And the excuses they’ve heard have been…interesting. Some reasons I get…but some…for real? 

The house has 3 bedrooms.  The master is down a short hall and a grand total of about 15 feet away from the other two bedrooms and…TWO PARTIES have said they were worried about how far the master was from the other bedrooms. 

There was the someone who was worried there would be cat pee soaked into the basement’s concrete floor…maybe a reasonable concern in some houses but my parents cats do not go anywhere but their litterboxes.  There is no pee on the floor or anywhere else.  And the litterboxes are in the unfinished basement.  Totally unfounded fear that made them decide on a different house (this after going through my parents’ house THREE times.)

My favorite rejection for my parents, though, has to be the couple where the woman came through by herself.  She was “really excited” about the house.  Loved it, loved the yard.  She made an appointment to bring her husband through.  Well, 20 minutes before their appointment, her moron, er husband, drove by the house with her.  My parents live on a very quiet cul-de-sac of 10-year-old homes.  All well-cared-for, nice trees, no cinder blocks in the yards or chain link fences.  But…the man HATED the house on site during the drive-by and they canceled their appointment fifteen minutes beforehand. 

So, between my parents and us, we could start a directory of Flakes In Lawrence, KS.  I’ve lost count between the two.  However, I will never forget my personal favorite PT, we’ll call him PTC.  He emailed me to say that our floor plan was perfect but they just didn’t quite love the place enough…and wanted to know if they could paint (okay, no problem) and…add a bathroom to the finished basement. 

*blinking*

Yeah.  Sure.  But before we start, let’s discuss what else we could do to REALLY make it your dream rental house.  How about a pool in the backyard?  A sunroom?  Maybe we could add a fourth floor if there’s not enough square footage for you?  Say the word.  We’re living in a rented duplex but we’ll be happy to invest a couple hundred thousand in our property 600 miles away…if it’ll make you happy.

Somebody send me a margarita or two, please.

My favorite season used to be fall but…now I live in Wisconsin.  I’m changing favorites.

Summer in Wisconsin is pretty close to perfect.  Enough heat to go to the swimming pool for relief on some days, plenty of sunshine, but…no outdoor sauna affect. 

Fall…yes, fall is pretty here.  For a while.  There is definitely more fall here than in Kansas, where it seems to last about a week in late October. 

The first day of autumn is Wednesday and the leaves are starting to change already.  I saw a gorgeous orange tree on Friday, and several that I can see from my office are becoming yellow.  The air is crisp (it’s been down to the 40s at night).  It’s perfect football weather.

But while my boys rejoice, I’m cringing.  Eyeing my sweaters.  Digging out the throw blankets for the couch.  I even made my husband light the pilot light on the gas fireplace.  Because if I remember right, by the time that week of autumn hits Kansas, we’re 2/3 of the way to winter here. 

Without the horrible heat that makes fall such a relief, I’m just not feeling it this year.  While my boys’ eyes sparkle at the prospect of feet of white stuff…I’m counting the days till spring.

I’ve had several people ask me why I’m homeschooling (technically virtual schooling) my older son…and for everyone who asks, I’m pretty sure there are more who wonder to themselves.

I’m not a big advocate of homeschooling – not for my family.  Never have been.  It might be right for some families but…it’s never even been a consideration for mine.  I value the social aspects of regular school, and I have loads of respect for teachers in general because, let’s face it, they have a knack for teaching.  I don’t.  (The words “I could NEVER homeschool my children” have crossed my lips multiple times.  Yeah, someone somewhere is laughing hysterically at me now.)

The short answer is that our boy, though he tests extremely high on IQ tests, has always struggled in school and we wanted – needed – to try something different for him.

Long answer…where do I start? 

Our guy was diagnosed with a mild learning disability in writing when he was in second grade.  There were other issues…he has difficulty with processing information in certain ways, for example.  And most recently, an ADD diagnosis.  These are just the labels we’ve received, and though I’m not a big fan of labels, they do help us zero in on a child’s weaknesses.  There’s so much more to him (and every other labeled kid, of course.)  The way our boy’s brain works is like a two-ton onion and we’re only about a third of the way through the layers so far. 

Needless to say, we know he is, of course, brilliant. :)  But his grades and performance haven’t ever reflected that, in spite of accommodations, in spite of him genuinely trying hard and wanting to do well.  My husband and I have become accustomed to saying to each other, “He’s never going to be successful in school.”

And then one day I was hit with some unrelenting questions:  What damage is it doing to him to keep him in an environment where we KNOW he won’t succeed?  How does daily failure affect our boy’s self-esteem?  How fair is it to not try something else for him?

We could see him doubting.  Disliking himself.  Becoming more and more frustrated.  Though he scores in the upper 90^th percentile for math assessments, the problem was clearly thrown in my face when my son, who used to love math, told me, “I hate math.  I’m terrible at it.”  Hello?  90^th percentile and he thinks he sucks?

So here we are.  At home.  Yes, technically virtual school, but for elementary grades, that means I am his “learning coach.”  Heh.  Fancy phrase for teacher without pay.  I sit with him 6-7 hours every day, going through his lessons and, with him most importantly, keeping him on task.  After 11 days of school, I can honestly say I understand him so much better than I ever did.  I see his weaknesses, yes, but I also see his amazingness.  All he needs is someone to be patient and to give him the time he needs to do his work, because he does have a brain in there and that brain has some mighty spectacular thoughts and ideas.

As a writer friend of mine, who is also a former fulltime teacher, said, (and I’m paraphrasing,) “Some kids just aren’t able to learn the way we require them to in the classroom.” 

So as I squeeze my writing time in at night and eat my words about never homeschooling, my kid…he’s succeeding.  Feeling good about himself.  Soaking in all the stuff a fifth-grader needs to know – at his own pace and in his own way.  And while I have no idea if we’ll do this again next year, I’m certain that, right now, we’re doing the best thing for our boy.

Today is the official release day for Fully Involved, book 3 in my Texas Firefighters series!

 (It also stands alone, so if you haven’t read the first two books, that’s okay…you won’t be lost.)

Here’s the back cover copy of Fully Involved:

No home. No roots. No involvements. No problems. That’s how Andie Tyler rolls. Just keep riding and the past can’t catch up with you — until someone runs over your motorcycle, that is! When she realizes that someone is Clay Marlow, studly-do-right himself, Andie’s in deep trouble. The sparks between them were hot enough last time she blew through San Amaro Island. This time they’re out of control.

Worse yet, she’s stuck. Stuck there for a month in the same wedding party as the single-dad firefighter, renting his duplex, and — like it or not — stuck falling for him and his disarming little girl. Andie wants him but he can’t have her. Figures. No matter how fast she rides, her past always catches up with her.

“The tension in FULLY INVOLVED is terrific…” — Sandi S., Fresh Fiction

“ Fully Involved has great characterization and wonderfully drawn detail.”–Alexandra Kay, RT Book Reviews

For direct links to buy Fully Involved, in either print or ebook format, click here.

The winner of signed copies of the first three Texas Firefighter books is…

Traci Patrick!

Congrats, Traci!  Please email me at amyknupp@amyknupp.com with your postal address and I’ll get those in the mail to you.

To everyone else, thank you for entering and sharing your most excellent excuses and to-do lists!

I’m heading back to my cave as I am currently overwhelmed, but I hope to resurface soon….

Every time I think, oh, now I’ll have more time to blog!, something comes along and crushes that optimism. 

I turned in the book.  I turned in the revisions.  I got through the last two weeks of summer and my kids’ laundry list of organized activities and unscheduled fun outings to make up for ignoring them redirecting them the last month before my deadline.  Got them prepared for back to school.

And, OH, I’m homeschooling my older son.  (Virtual school, technically.  Why we’re doing this is another post for another day.)  So I planned for this, really, I did.  I thought, I’ll NOT try to write a single word during the day.  Better to avoid getting annoyed by, I don’t know, him needing help or asking questions.  I rescheduled my writing time for evenings after the kids go to bed, which is when I’m most creative anyway. 

I planned to be able to blog, do promotional things, keep up on email so I don’t have to do that in the evening, keep up on housework (ish…you know, throw in some laundry, fold while he reads, etc.) while I worked with my boy.

Wellll, so far I’ve managed to handle some laundry. 

You see, my boy has ADD and keeping him on task is a full-time-and-a-half job.  Never mind the educating part.  So while I can do some mindless chores and play interact on Facebook while I work with him, forget writing.  Not even a blog post.  Even though all the lessons are laid out for me (thank you God) and I’m going over the lessons the weekend before, this non-paying teaching gig is taking every last one of my brain cells.

It occurs to me, as I type out this very long excuse for being a blog slacker, that I have yet to give away any copies of the second book in my Texas Firefighters series.  Would it be considered bribery if I offered some books up to make up for my slacking?   *shrug*  If so, I’m all about bribery! 

So here’s the deal.  I’ll give away signed copies of the first THREE Texas Firefighter books (Playing With Fire, A Little Consequence, and Fully Involved, which isn’t even on shelves yet) to one randomly selected person.  To enter, just comment here…make up an excuse for something you should do but haven’t.  I’ll give you an extra entry in the drawing if your answer is particularly creative.   Enter by Sunday night, September 12th, and I’ll announce the winner next week.

Happy excuse-making!