Just Dance

I was recently inspired when my son introduced me to ‘Kid President’. If you haven’t heard of him or seen him, I would suggest checking him out on you tube. (Kid President that is…my son is not on you tube yet.) Anyway, He suggests often that the world would be a better place if we all danced more. I agree Kid President…Let’s Dance.
Just Dance (©Vicki Neal 2014)

Dancing in the shadows
Dancing in the rain
Dancing in the sunshine
Dancing through the pain
Dancing with your brother
Dancing with your sis
Dancing with the one you love
Dancing on with bliss
Dance to feel sexy
Dance to feel sweet
Dance to feel the movement
Through body, hands, & feet
Dancing out your anger
Dancing out your screams
Dancing out frustrations
Dancing out your dreams
Dancing when you’re naked
Dancing when you’re clad
Dancing when you’re happy
Dancing when you’re sad
Dancing on when things get tough
Dancing to the beat
Dancing in your bedroom, or
Dancing in the street
Dancing wild
Dancing slow
Dance with songs and shouts
It doesn’t matter how you dance
Just get the dancing out!


Pillow Fight

The pillow fight.  The bashing…the pounding…the laughter…the chaos.  I do not know a child who does not like to grab a pillow and start in. I can’t count the number of times my children, or myself for that matter, have entered the melee armed only with fluff.

It’s amazing how much fun can be had with a square of stuffing.

Unfortunately, my son has experienced first hand how quickly the fun can turn.  This poem was written after one of the epic pillow fights went sour.


Jimmy’s Pillow Fight

Oh, I’m the king of this castle100_4411

I am big and I am bold

These pillows are my ammo

And I can conquer trolls

They call me Sister Basher

The mightiest of might

I’ve got a giant pillow

And I’m not afraid to fight

No one can defeat me

I’ve got honor on my side

You better just surrender

Or run away and hide

jimmypillowI’ve got my golden armor on

And now I’m attack proof

So here I come, Beware, Stand back

For this outstanding…OOF

No fair, I wasn’t looking

I…OOF…Hey, that’s enough!

Well, I’ll show you. Take this and, Hey…

My pillow’s got no fluff!!

You’re messing up my system

You’re messing up my plan

You’re stealing all my pillows

Seriously, Man!

Would you just…OOF…I want to, Hey!

That was too hard a hit.


Stop It…OOF…I quit!

Literally and Figuratively!

In the last week, I have seen the return of bluebird’s to my neighborhood and backyard.  This symbol of happiness seems to be following me around as I see them when I am driving, jogging, and looking out my windows.

Yesterday, my husband and I cleaned out the birdhouses in anticipation of spring and just about 20 minutes later one of the houses in view of the living room window was being claimed by a pair of bluebirds!  This morning, I saw a bright male bluebird on another of the houses.

Bluebirds – Happiness!

They speak to my soul.

My life, just like the natural world, is full of cycles.  In the recent past, I have yet again faced death, pain, anger, and sadness.  It has been cold and very dark.  My personal season of winter had lasted much longer than a mere 3 months.  At times, I feared it would never end.  It was as if I had taken up residence in Antarctica.  And yet, I am happy to say that spring is arriving and I have come through yet another winter of my soul.  Here, in the United States, spring is just around the corner.  And, along with the bluebirds, I am ready for this next season of new birth, new life, and new growth.

The color is back…the light has returned…Spring is here!

I thank the bluebirds for returning to my life in abundance and, for anyone else who feels stuck in the dark and cold, I wish you bluebirds of your own!

The Stubborn Troll

Have you ever been completely taken over by a thought?  A sentence throws a surprise party in your conscious thought and then refuses to leave.  The words remain lodged in your brain begging for attention like that incessant itch you can’t quite reach.   Impossible to ignore.  Like the child who repeatedly asks, “are we there yet?”, you must respond to the question or the barrage continues.

That happened to me last week.  I was jogging along, minding my own business, when suddenly, out of nowhere, in pops …the sentence (dun dun duuuun!!!).

Now this sentence made no sense at all to me at the time.  I heard my mind respond, “WHAT?” as in, “Where the heck did that sentence come from?”, and, “Why is it in my brain?”  I was confused…confounded.  The sentence had no relevance to anything in my life, but it had abducted my brain.  It would not leave.  I pretended it didn’t matter and continued on with my life.  I showered, worked, cooked, slept, primped, read, talked, and took care of the business of living all while being accompanied by this thought.    I tried to actively think other things.  The thought remained.  Finally, I sat down with the thought and asked it, “So now what?”.  And we worked together to figure it out.

What was this stubborn thought?

It was,

           “There’s a troll in my bedroom and I don’t know what to do.”


And, after sitting down with this thought, here’s the result:


Troll in My Bedroom

There’s a troll in my bedroom and I don’t know what to do

Will he eat up all my underwear or gnaw upon my shoes?

Will he empty out my piggybank? Put holes in all my socks?

Will he laugh and fill my pillowcase with lots of dirty rocks?


I need to get the troll out of my room before he’s seen.

Cause I hear that when a troll’s discovered then he gets all mean

Evicting trolls’ not easy…it is harder than you think

Could I decorate and color in annoying shades of pink?


If I fill the room with sunshine I could scare the troll away.

But there’s shadows in the closet where the sneaky troll could stay.

Now if I had a rainbow I could push him o’er the side

But a troll is really clever and it might decide to hide.


I could hire out the Midas King and turn him into gold.

Or find a silver unicorn which works as well, I’m told.

100 dozen roses floating scent into the air?

I wonder if the troll’s afraid of Jimmy’s teddy bear.


Is there an exterminator trained in mythic creatures?

Or is this a dilemma solved by kindergarten teachers?

I am sure that there’s a troll here and I don’t know what to do.

If a troll was in your bedroom, then whatever would you do?


Please feel free to let me know what you would do to get the troll out of your bedroom

… or a stubborn thought out of your head.

Bad Hair Day

In the shower this morning I got thinking about bad hair.070

I can’t count the number of times in my life I’ve said, “I’m having a bad hair day”

But today I asked myself, “What makes hair bad?”

It’s just hair.

Immediately, I got a visual in my head…the hair stealing the bobby pins saying,

“I’ve got your bobby pins and I’m not afraid to use them!”

As my laughter died down, I realized something…what made my hair ‘bad’ was the fact that it did not do what I wanted it to do right at the exact moment I was asking it.  It did not lay down quietly with no objections.  It seemed to have a mind of it’s own…independent ideas.  It wanted to do what it wanted to do instead of what I wanted it to do. And I responded, “BAD HAIR!!”

Then it occurred to me how much of this same ‘badness’ I had been carrying around with me and throwing onto my children, my husband, and myself.

Bad Vicki…you’re getting too wild here…settle down.

Bad Vicki…just sit down quietly and don’t make a scene.

Bad Vicki…you aren’t doing what you are told! I asked you to do something so stop what you’re doing right now and do what I said!  Listen to me!  Do it my way!

So I’m not saying I want to get completely unruly and I do want my hair to have some degree of composure, but I do have to ask…

What if we allowed ourselves, our children, and our hair, to get a little out of control without throwing on the badness card?  Would that create total anarchy, uncontrolled chaos, and an eternal afterlife of damnation? Or would it merely open the door to a little more self-expression in the world?  Allowing each person, and lock, a chance to be independent and unique without severe judgment and retribution?

On that note, I will share a poem with you that came to life on one of my bad hair days.  I give voice to all the unruly,  locks that merely want a little self-expression.

Bad Hair Day

I woke up this morning and showered away

As I primped up, my hair…it had something to say

“I want to be frizzy, I want to be wild”

“Don’t want to be smoothed down, or tied up, or mild”

“If you try to contain me, I’m gonna’ rebel”

“And don’t even think about hair spray or gel”

Oh, I would not have that.  I got out my brush.

I had to look good and was quite in a rush

I straightened, I braided, I clipped and I curled

As I finished and looked up, my hair…it unfurled

It stuck out and poked out and curled the wrong way

And there in plain sight (it was taunting me)…grey

Oh, I don’t have time for this.  I need to go.

My hair must be perfect.  But wouldn’t you know…

I brushed my hair left.  My hair took a right.

At this rate, I’d still be disheveled tonight.

I tried with my iron, I tried with my crimper

I tried to add body.  My hair just got limper.

I added more product.  I added more mousse.

My bad hair day continued until I called a truce.

My hair got it’s way.  It’s as simple as that.

My hair, it had won.  And I put on a hat.

Six year old help

I love it when my kids want to help!

They’re involved, spending their time with me.

They are learning new skills.

But, if that help comes from a six year old,  I have to admit a lot of times it doesn’t feel like help.

So here’s another of my creations that came to be after three children…and countless hours of cleaning up the messes that arose from the generous ‘help’:

6 Year Old – Help 100_4378

I’ll get my own glass


I’ll serve my own soup


Let me help you and I’ll carry this


I’ll pour my own juice


I’ll carry the sack


Let me help too, I will help hang it


I’m big enough now


I’ll care for the cat


I know I can do it. Let me help you


Limerick FUN

I was inspired recently when my son was given an assignment in school to write a limerick.  I remembered loving limericks as a child and decided to take on this assignment for myself.  I had many laughs through the process and I would like to share with you the results of both assignments.  May you enjoy them as much as I have!

First, here is my son’s (he’s 10):

There once was a fellow named Mike

Who really loved to hike

He fell down a pit

And said, “Oh… …Dang it”

Now hiking he really don’t like


And here are my own winners:

There once was an interesting fellow

Who lived in a house made of jello

It tasted so sweet

He kept it quite neat

But his head would get stuck on his pillow.


As a child I had a great hound

Absolutely the best dog around

Well that’s what I thunk

Til she wrestled a skunk

Then fouler could ne’er be found


And my personal favorite:

There once was a young lad named Flinn

Who’s adventures were  ’bout to begin

He drank from his flagon

And stepped toward the dragon

Then woke with some drool on his chin