November 24, 2011 - 1 Comment by Mishi - {NaBloPoMo}
I am thankful that Michael is not here. (Yes, I really am because) That means he 
has job and is working. Not to mention that after this week he will be training for his promotion. That’ll be “Captain Lane” to you, thankyouverymuch!
I am thankful for Skype and Facebook. While it would be wonderful to have a million cars parked in the cul de sac, and family and friends around our table, Skype and Facebook keep us connected, and for that I am forever grateful.
I am thankful that each of our children are so totally different from one another, because, really, variety is the spice of life. This includes the puppy, because we all know that fur babies are just as much our children as the ones that were housed in our belly.
I am thankful that I am not crazy enough to hit the stores on Black Friday. Now can someone please stop the insanity with the Crazy Target Lady and the Kohl’s Rebecca Black ditty?!
I am thankful for my ability to cook (FINALLY!) I mean, just the other day I was talking to Michael about how I once made him creamed spinach when we lived in Cheektowaga. He then reminded me that I didn’t cook in Cheektowaga (blank stare). And, then I reminded him that he threw up after that creamed spinach endeavor. I guess that we were living in Cheektowaga when I started to step out of my comfort zone, and stop cooking out of the box. It’s been one foot in front of the other, over the years, and now I actually enjoy cooking.
I am thankful that I had food to cook for my children today, and I’m thankful that I 
roasted our 12 pound bird breast side down. One word: Juicy. Oh, and, cornbread dressing. There’s something to be said for being a southern transplant.
I am thankful for my old Food Saver because it allowed me to freeze Michael’s Thanksgiving dinner so that he can enjoy it when he gets home.
I am thankful that we have not one, but two Redboxes close to our house. Even if one of your kids (ehem, Benny) picks a horrible movie that starts with Judy and ends with Moody.
(Bonus gratitude: Davey actually sat through a whole movie. Maybe we can actually go see that movie with the Penguins that he’s been talking about.)
I am thankful for the gym I joined in October. I feel that I’m becoming slightly obsessed with working out, but there are way worse things to be obsessed with. Like, pie, I could totally be obsessed with pie. Maybe I am, but in that case I am SUPER grateful for my new gym obsession.
I am thankful that I am who I am, even if I’m whiny about how I want my new iPhone, like, yesterday.
I am thankful for so much that I can’t put it all done in one post or condense it all in one day.
I am thankful, that much is true.

December 10, 2009 - 17 Comments by Mishi - Blogging and Social Media, Me, Myself, and I
{I am part of a special holiday Blog Carnival hosted on Blog Nosh Magazine. This post was sponsored by Tide Loads of Hope*.}

A long time ago, before I was pregnant with Benjamin, when I was the new mother of two babies (my Irish Twins, if you will), we fell on hard days. We were living, in Buffalo, in my parents’ garage apartment. They fed us, they housed us, they helped us, and we were ever grateful. We were a young family and times were tough. Accepting help was necessary if not debilitating. When you are at a low, in a deep, dark valley, you think you’ll never soar again.
That’s where faith comes in.
One blustery day in December I was home alone with Mikey and Livey. I was just getting them down for nap, when the doorbell rang. Who dare ring my doorbell just as my babies’ heavy eyes were about to buy me an hour or two of quiet? I stomped down the stairs with a vengeance. Whomever stood outside my door should have been standing there fearful of their life. But, no one was there. Only a box. A big huge box addressed to: Mishi Lane
I muscled the massive package up the stairs and into the kitchen. Curiosity triumphed and instead of going back to the work at hand–getting those babies to sleep–I grabbed a knife and cut my way into it. I began to pull out various gifts for both of the children. Then at the bottom was the big gift, the Tonka Truck, with the card attached. As I read the card, I felt the lump in my throat grow as tears welled up in my eyes.
That’s where faith lifts you up.
The big, huge box with the big, huge, metal Tonka Truck was from an online friend. Someone who cared enough to send gifts to my small children for the upcoming holiday, even if they wouldn’t remember or know (I would, though.) Someone who showed me that the act of giving is actually the gift of receiving, because–ultimately–her act of kindness allowed her to receive something within her heart—something that transcended the physical act of giving.
I have been a recipient of these acts of kindness many times. More so, I have been witness to much greater acts of kindness. I’ve known wives who lost their husbands, children who lost their fathers, daughters and sons who were taken too soon, babies that struggled to live (some of whom made it through and others who became full-fledged angels), families that lost everything they had in fires or disasters, people that have suffered immensely, and the list goes on and on. The kindness that I speak of, though? It’s the kindness of man that presents itself so readily when tragedy strikes.
That’s where faith resides.
When I got online in 1994 I had no idea the impact it would have on my life. I met my soul-mate online. I shared pregnancies online. I lived through highs and lows with my friends online. I have made life long, meaningful relationships online. And it keeps getting better. I flip open my laptop and know that there are people that I can turn to. For support. For comfort. For friendship. For laughter. For community. For understanding.
The line has been so blurred that I feel strange saying that they are solely online friendships. They are more than that. And they are just as meaningful and fulfilling as any other relationship I have forged in my thirty-five years.
That’s where faith grows.
Last week, we were sitting around the kitchen table, having a family discussion. Mikey felt that Benny was rude in wanting to accept a neighbor friend’s offering of dry cereal and left-over Halloween candy (their army-guy “dry rations”). Mikey conveyed that whenever he has offered his friend something, anything, he refuses to accept it, and says in so many words, “I can’t take that from you.”
I paused him.
Maybe his parents told him not to accept anything because Papa’s not working?
He agreed.
Then I went on to say to that often times the ones who have the least are willing to give the most. That we should be giving. For the act of giving is just as meaningful–if not more–than the act of receiving. When you give you open your heart up. A friend taught me that.
Just then, I looked out the window and spotted the ten year old Tonka truck underneath our trampoline.
We share our food with friends. We give ten dollars in hopes that someone we barely know might not lose their home. We buy a tee-shirt to support a fallen friend. We display buttons to show support. We talk about important causes to our friends and family. We tell stories. We take pictures. We do all we can. We give. We receive.
That’s faith, hope, and love.
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*Loads of Hope for the Holidays
{How do the holidays fill you with loads of hope?}
Please join us at Blog Nosh Magazine as we share stories of hope this holiday season in support of the Tide Loads of Hope program, a mobile laundromat offering laundry services to families affected by disasters.
Share your own stories of hope, along with Blog Nosh Magazine, Velveteen Mind, and a gathering of inspiring bloggers, and enter your own post link in the blog carnival below. Visit Blog Nosh Magazine to explore featured bloggers as well as three featured posts selected from carnival participants listed in the linky (that could be you!).
Lend your voices now, then participate live during a two day event in New Orleans, Sunday and Monday, December 13 and 14, as we tweet stories of resilience from laundry recipients and volunteers on the ground. Follow along on twitter via #loadsofhope and be sure to follow @TideLoadsofHope.
So, that being said, this weekend I will be in my most favorite city in the whole United States of America, New Orleans, with Tide Loads of Hope. I’m joining Megan of Velveteen Mind and Deb of Deb on the Rocks as we spread some hope to those that are still feeling the affects of Hurricane Katrina. Giving the simple gift of clean clothes and receiving fulfillment that I suspect will last a lifetime.

Learn more about how you can extend hope to families affected by disasters by visiting http://tideloadsofhope.com
November 26, 2009 - 3 Comments by Mishi - Familija, For the Love of Food

We should be thankful
Everyday.
We should be free
Everyday.
We should be faithful
Everyday.
We should shine
Everyday.
If you haven’t, you should be reading the updates by Peter Mayhew about his wife—my friend—Anissa. They will put into perspective the fact that we should be grateful everyday of our lives, even in the mess, the muck, and the madness.
November 27, 2008 - 10 Comments by Mishi - Secret Agent Mama
A Letter of Gratitude to My Family
I am here, sitting at our new table, thinking of ways to express to you all just how much you mean to me. With your arrival into my world I have been changed. I am changed daily, too. Changed by things you do, things you say, things I do, things I say, by this blessed life that we live together. Let it be known that our smiles, our angst, our laughter, our frustration, our happiness, our sadness, our love, our pain, all of our daily interactions ARE every single reason to be grateful. Because life is not always meant to be neat and tidy. Tables will never be free of scratches. I don’t know why I forget that so easily?
Please continue to bear with me. I was raised in a such a way where we put a tablecloth on the table to protect it from the spills or damage. We never saw the beauty of the wood because it was brand new and we couldn’t let anything happen to it, now could we? So, it’s hard for me to let go of that notion. However this belief that when something is protected it’s out of all harm’s way is wrong. It’s vulnerable, yes, but it’s also allowed to shine.
My solution for the table, and life–in general–is to love it, care for it, protect it, but also allow it to be exposed for it’s true worth. Not one of us is without a burden or scar; no one is perfect. I tend to forget this, however you make me remember. For that, I am forever indebted. For that, I thank you.

Michael: Thank you for being the man you are.
You make me the most even when I feel the least.

Mikey: Thank you for having such a good head on your shoulders. You delight me daily.

Olivia: Thank you for being caring and compassionate. Your social graces make me proud.

Benjamin: Thank you for making me laugh and keeping me on my toes. You are amazing.

David: Thank you for being so sweet and lovable.
You have revived our family and my motherhood.
H a p p y T h a n k s g i v i n g
to one and all….