1. Install a Smart Power Strip that will turn off the passive electricity going to all of your electronic devices, saving you money on your electric bill. Plug this into a surge protector to keep from having to replace damaged electronics
2. Find one hundred uses for vinegar to reduce your expenses on household cleaning items.
3. Repair instead of replace. This works on household and clothing items. Ask for help from a friend or a neighbor and you also create a great bonding experience while saving your budget.

"But Mom, he's coming back." There's that Mac truck again! He doesn't understand. He thinks HE is just gone working. My heart screams! I search for the right words. As he listens I see it in his eyes. Tears roll down his cheeks. "How about if we call HIM?" I know he is missing you too. His only thoughts are for HIM, " What if he's sleeping, he has to work?"  Another sharp stabbing pain! I assure him that "Dad" would love to hear from him. I get my phone, deep breath, here goes. PLEASE answer! Voice mail. I see the disappointment in his eyes. I whisper, tell him you love him. I sit with my little man a while, reassuring him that dad will always be there for him, he's just gonna have a different house. That seems to put him at ease. 2 more hours he tosses around in bed. Sleep finally wins. I send HIM a message, your son wants to see you. Morning comes. Kids are off to school. The sun is out, taunting me. Today promises to be another good day. I check my phone. Still no response. That's not like HIM. I tell myself he was probably sleeping last night. And off to work first thing this morning. Doubts and visions race through my head. No! Stop it. He won't let our son down. He will call back…..I hope!

A few days later…

I did it! I made it through the first visitation. More importantly so did my little man. As I drove to the "meeting" site my heart was pounding, my hands shaking, my stomach in knots. How was this gonna go? How was my fragile son going to handle this? I ask, how ya doing? Ready to see your dad? He is eager to see him. OK here we go. I try to get a grasp on myself. Focus on breathing. Take a deep breath.

He is already there when I pull in. Please let him be sober. I have warned him. They don't have to be around that any more. I won't let them be around that any more. Take a deep breath. As I pull in, I find I can't bring myself to park next to him. How strange. He's not even in the truck. I settle on a spot behind him, in another lane. This works. My boy is so excited he is already out of his seat and opening the door. Another deep breath. I can do this. I have to do this. My son needs me to do this. I silently gather all the strength I have. The walk to the door seems to be in slow motion. We walk in. He's at a table in the far corner. My sweet boy walks faster. "Hi Dad! Why did you move?" My heart pounds! Please let his answer be civil! " I couldn't stay. Didn't wanna fight any more." Thoughts fly through my head. I can't remember the last fight we had. You COULDN'T stay. I look to my son. He has a puzzled look, but seems to be content with the answer for now. I let out a big sigh. I didn't realize I had been holding my breath.

He asks our son if he's hungry. I smile to my son. We had just been talking about that on the ride here. He puts a hand around him; I fight the urge to rip his hand off of my son. The order is placed. I help little man get his drink, and walk back to the table. I slide him in next to me. He answers all the normal questions, how is school? You being good? Then silence. I am keeping a close eye on him. I smile down at him and wink. He winks back. It’s been our thing since he figured out how to wink. Our way of telling each other all is good, no worries! In the silence, it’s time to address a few things. I am calm. I try to be very matter of fact. Short sweet and too the point. His answers are a little off. I smell a familiar odor waft across the table. When was your last drink? I warned you already. Yesterday? I look across the table. I have head this before. For the first time in weeks I look in his eyes. Yes there is that look. But something else is there as well. Something new.

"May I go play?" Came the sweet little voice. I walk him over. We don't sit at the same table. He chose the next one over. There is something about him screaming at me. Something new. Something unsettling. This whole thing is unsettling. We finish discussing issues. He says his good bye. And is gone. As he walks out the door, I breathe a sigh of release. We made it. The drive home I find myself crying. Why am I crying?!?! Relief! The weight on my chest is gone. I can breath again! My stomach is screaming for food; lots of food. I haven't felt that in weeks. My hands are steady. And my son is happily chatting away in the back seat. Yes, I will make it. I cry not tears of sorrow, but tears of pure release!

This clip is an interview with Amanda on Erin Burnett's Out Front show. 

Do you have a great idea for a book? Here are some links to self-publishing web sites that may get you started. I've heard goods things about these but in no way are we endorsing them. This will get you started researching  options and it is up to you the path you choose to follow. 

1. Lulu

2.  Lightning Source

3. Create Space

Every couple needs time alone with each other. There are date nights, weekends away and then there are those “oh so looked forward to” special vacations together. It is a time to remember why you married each other in the first place. Children, jobs, friends, relatives, work around the home and community can all fill your life to the brim. Some couples, or really way too many couples, lose touch with each other and problems in the marriage develop.

These couples often have left no time to resolve differences of opinion and to ask for what they need. Every thing else starts to come first. If they also have any issues from the past where they felt ignored or unimportant, this lapse in attention can trigger old wounds as well. In my office I spend a lot of time reminding couples to take time for them. Everyone they affect will benefit too. They will become a closer and more united couple and happier as individuals and as a couple as well.

So pack up those suitcases, beg your family to watch the kids, spend what you can afford for that magical reconnection and don’t look back. 

So how did I manage to buy back the home several years after I had to sell it in my divorce?

It was a breezy day in September 2007. I was set up to do a book signing at the Bellmore Street Festival for my books, my, a-hem, multi-award winning books, Without Grace and The Author’s Guide to Planning Book Events. It was only a couple of weeks earlier and on a whim that I decided to do the signing. It would give me a chance to get back to my old home town, but more importantly to help raise money for the American Cancer Society. My friend who owned Hair Effex, a hair salon I’d patronized from the beginning, had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and I wanted to help in some small way. That’s when I approached her weeks prior to the Bellmore Street festival and suggested that if she allowed me to set up a table in front of her salon to sign copies of my books, I’d give a percentage of the sales to the ACS. She thought it was a great idea. 

Therefore, the day before the festival, my daughter, Natasha, helped me drop boxes of my books off at the salon so that I wouldn’t have to elbow my way through the crowds the following day. After dropping off the books, we were only a block away from our former home and I suggested we’d drive by to see it again. Natasha responded with a firm “no.” It was still too painful for her to see what we had to give up five years earlier. She then said, “What would you do, Mom, if you found out it was for sale? Would you try to get it back?”

It was an interesting question, especially since two years earlier I’d bought my first house as a single woman, one that had to be totally gutted and redone. With the help of very good friends, it finally was close to being complete, everything brand new. However, just a few months after having purchased that home, I’d lost my job with a company I’d been with for over eleven years. The news was somewhat devastating, tempered only by the first book review I’d gotten that very morning comparing my novel, Without Grace, to To Kill a Mockingbird. What a thrill!  I used that review to my advantage and decided that very day instead of sending out my resume and pounding the pavement to start my own business as a freelance writer and publishing consultant. Two years later, business so far had been good, but was it good enough to buy back my house, which was certain to have a much heftier mortgage?

Still, without hesitation, I replied to Natasha’s question, “Absolutely!”  I stunned myself with the rapid-fire response, but after all, my children and I did not leave on our own terms and we longed to get back what a broken marriage had taken away. However if I’d known what was about to happen, I am not so sure I would have replied so quickly, I could never have guessed that the possibility of getting back home would actually arise, but curiously enough, serendipity stepped in. Some might say that it was God answering a prayer. The thing is, I hadn’t prayed.

So, just one day after Natasha’s question, I was sitting at a table at the festival signing books. There was hardly a cloud in the cerulean sky as revelers, carrying cotton candy or gyros, strolled by. Some even stopped to buy a book. It felt right to be immersed in the familiarity of the town where my children attended school, where Jason and Corrie played softball, where Natasha went to dance class several times a week. I couldn’t help but think that I still belonged there.

Then, my previous next-door neighbors, Diane and Phil, broke from the crowd and dashed over, pulling me into a hug. “You wrote a book?” they said with surprise; so much for my publicity efforts. We then caught up with each other before I asked how their new neighbors were doing. You know, the people living in my house?

“Great! Great!” was the response. “But,” Diane added, “they’re going to sell in the spring.”

My heart lurched. “Really?” I said, my mind racing, grateful sunglasses concealed tears that sprung to my eyes. “Really?” I repeated, wondering, is this it? Is this why I’ve not felt rooted for the last few years? Yet, as a single woman who’s been solely freelancing for two years, how could I afford this dream home—the one with the drafty windows, the leaky roof and the porch floor with an obvious slant?

My fears, however, didn’t stop me from blurting, “I want it back.”

“Really?” Diane and Phil said in unison, which seemed to be the word of the day. Just then, Natasha, carrying the shish kebob I’d sent her off to get for me, came strolling our way. She broke into a big smile when she recognized the couple standing next to me. After she handed me my messy lunch, she exchanged hugs with Diane and Phil. I then told her the news. Her mouth dropped open and seconds later she was on her cell phone calling her sister, who was on vacation in Vegas. Corrie’s immediate response echoed ours: “We’re getting it back.”

At the time I couldn’t help but question if the universe was telling us something or was it all just one big crazy coincidence?

I handed my business card to Diane and said, “Have them call me, if they are really going to sell.” Even as I said it, I kept thinking, am I really up to moving again? But I knew the answer. Of course I was up to moving again, if it’s back home, back to the house that once held so much promise and hope; the house where my children’s laughter is embedded in the woodwork; the house where Scout and Shiloh’s names are carved into the cement near their doghouse. I got a twinge of pain at the memory of having to give up Scout and Shiloh due to that very difficult time, but, yes, I was up to moving again. Bearing in mind, prayers or not, nothing is definite.

Every Friday for a very long time now my friend EJ Zbylut has been lifitng my mood by posting on my Facebook wall a music video. He does it not to promote anything he has going on. He does it to make me feel good. He's a good friend of mine and I have to say that I look forward to Friday's and his selection as it is always something I've never heard and something that rocks my world. 

He recently started a Facebook page, Jukebox Friday, to post his choices each week and I love that,  as he has increased his reach past my wall to the walls of many people who may be facing the weekend and would like to go into it dancing. 

Here's a selection of some of the video's he has posted. So dear readers, DANCE and find your own rhythm in life. 

So why are we so willing to apologize for our bodies but when it comes to hurting a friend's feelings we shut up tighter than a trap and never again let go of our ego in order to care how our words cut another person to their core?

Hear the entire show right here

I stumbled across this story and feel it is exactly what we as Sisters need to strive towards instead of cat-fighting, back-biting and pulling each other down through the muck and mire of life's downside.  Extend your hand and help us create "The World's Longest Tow Chain of Sisters!"

To see see the full story, click here