Posts Tagged ‘Mom’

Mar

20

2014

And How Do You Ever Get Any Writing Done When You’re a Mom? Ask the Wackos

Filed under: Blogging, Check-it-out, Family, Pondering, Writing

You might have noticed I missed Tuesday’s blog. I attempted it, but the 11yo and I either came down with food poisoning or the stomach plague early Monday morning. I spent most of Monday in a heaving, feverish stupor, using all of my energy to get the 8yo to and from school. We’re finally feeling better, so this morning it was back to getting the youngest two boys on the regular schedule. Adding to the morning madness, the 13yo (on spring break right now) was also going into school with them to get some dyslexia testing done in preparation for next year.

Sounds easy enough–except it wasn’t. It rarely is.

For starters, the 11yo, on top of being sick this week, was having a lot of anxiety about school–a product of our WCSD fiasco. ¬†Grrrrrr So in addition to calming nerves, I was also making lunches and trying to find red clothes for the 8yo’s school production. There was lots juggling going on, but we finally got in the car. And then I realized my keys were in the jacket I wore yesterday. Time was getting tight now. So I started to back out of the driveway when I realized…SHIT! ¬†The 13yo is still in bed sleeping!!!!! I threw the car in park, regretting the decision to bring my regular coffee mug instead of a travel mug in the car as I sloshed all over, run inside and start bellowing. By the time I got to his room, the 13yo’s eyes were still clouded with sleep, but he was standing in the middle of the room staring at me like a zombie.

ME: YOU HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL AND WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN 2 MINUTES!!!!

HIM: but is was sleeping.

ME: AND NOW YOU’RE NOT. PUT ON THESE CLOTHES *rips things out of closets and drawers* BRUSH YOUR HAIR AND TEETH AND PUT ON DEODORANT.

HIM:

ME: NOW!!!!!

Photo on 2009-10-22 at 10.17

HIM: but i was sleeping.

ME: YOU NOW HAVE A LESS THAN 2 MINUTES. I’LL MAKE YOU AN ENGLISH MUFFIN FOR THE CAR. GO!!!!!!

HIM: ok

ME: *sends death glare and runs upstairs and makes english muffin*

ME AGAIN: (BELLOWING) WHY ARE YOU STILL DOWNSTAIRS?????

HIM: *sauntering up the stairs with a big grin on his face* You are so lucky I’m not a girl. *mutters something about make-up under his breath*

ME: I DON’T WEAR MAKE-UP. YOUR SHOES AND COAT ARE BY THE DOOR. DO NOT DRIP BUTTER ALL OVER THE PLACE.

We get in car…

OTHER BOYS: WOW! You guys did all of that in 3 minutes. You’re really lucky we’re not girls, Mom. *snort*

HIM: Why is there coffee all over my seat?

ME: I’M A GIRL AND I’M FAST. I’M LIKE THE FASTEST GETTING READY GIRL YOU’VE EVER MET. AND JUST SIT IN THE COFFEE. YOUR PANTS WILL WIPE IT UP. IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DON’T USE THEM FOR A NAPKIN ANYWAY. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU SHOULD GET BUTTER ALL OVER.

HIM: *shakes head*

OTHER BOYS: You ARE fast but that’s probably because you don’t wear make-up. But Dad’s really slow for a guy and he doesn’t wear make up. *scratches head*

ME: BECAUSE DAD IS DAD!!!!! *guns accelerator* NOW EVERYONE PAY ATTENTION AND STOP TALKING ABOUT MAKE-UP. WHEN WE GET TO THE PARKING LOT IT’S A FOOT RACE TO THE DOOR. WE’VE GOT TO MOVE PEOPLE!!!!

 

And we did. Except for the discussion about the water mark on the wall of the gym and how it got there. Clogged gutter? But what matters is that WE WERE ON TIME and all was well. And after some fun retelling of the morning’s events to the school staff, my heart fell back into a normal rhythm. In fact, as I was walking back out of the school with a tiny little ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, I actually smiled until I realized…SHIT!

I forgot to do today’s blog post. Seriously? But I was already drafting in my head on the way to the car when I started to laugh at an Ah-ha moment that hit me on the head like a thawing icicle. Back in the day, these kinds of fiascos would have have stopped me in my tracks. They would have been the road blocks in my day that I just couldn’t get around. Instead of laughing it off and going home and writing a blog post, I would have considered myself a sucky blogger. I would’ve convinced myself that since I wasn’t “perfect” at it–I shouldn’t do it at all.

I let my mind extrapolate on that thought. And then I realized that all the successful writing I’ve ever done has been since I’ve had kids. That’s an interesting correlation to ponder because it certainly isn’t because of the calm, cool and collected mornings the kids bring to my life. Or afternoons, evenings, weekends, holidays etc. You get the picture. No, the connection between having kids and being a successful writer is that they forced me to change how I operate.

They were the first things in my life where quiting was not an option.

And since I’m obviously a deep and sticky vat of mistakes as a parent and a person (like we all are) I was forced to come to terms with my imperfections. I had to learn to get over myself.

I used to lay in bed at night as a child, wishing I had the power to hit a switch and get a do-over on my life. I truly believed that at any point in my own childhood I’d screwed it up so much I’d never get out from under my mistakes. And these weren’t big mistakes. It might be forgetting a homework assignment or something else just as insignificant in the big picture. I didn’t seem to have a gage for that sort of thing. No importance-o-meter. The funny thing was that no one put this pressure on me. But it was there. I some how grew up believing that there was a clear right and wrong and once you lost your way it was impossible to find it again.

Luckily for me, my kids saved me.

Not all my mornings are as wacko as today’s was. But I’ll be honest, we have our fair share of these little chaotic nuggets sprinkled throughout our existence. And when I tell these stories, which the writer in me can’t help but do, I see a lot of people holding their stomachs, tears in their eyes laughing as they ask…

And how do you ever get any writing done when you’re a mom?

And I just laugh and shrug and tell them it’s a challenge.

But the truth is that those little wackos are they only reason I ever got any writing done.

 

Tell me–how have kids changed your writing life? Or just your life? Are you crippled with perfectionism? Or maybe just freaking unorganized in the morning? Spill your guts–tell me I’m not all alone with the wackos. :o)

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Sep

14

2012

Because My Parents Dressed Me Funny

Filed under: Check-it-out, Family, Pondering

Ummmm because I don’t have enough to do with back-to-school, soccer, construction, revisions and that little thing called a book launch. I’ve slowly started converting my mom’s slides to digital.

A very early picture of me. But I’m not important in this pic…check out what the two biggest influences in my life were wearing ROTFL! Who allowed this? And how did this effect my social and emotional growth?

Daddy and his baby *heart squish*

Home…there is no place like it.

I imagine he would have been looking at me a lot like this on October 30th. Notice the makeshift mobile with clothes pins and toys…my parents rock!

And this is why the book is dedicated to him…he always gave me a safe place to lay my head. I miss him.

Obviously my parents sense of style rubbed off on me but I think I pulled it off. LOL!

More pictures and interesting clothing choices to come. What’s the most interesting thing your parents dressed you in?

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Feb

16

2011

The Power of Words: I Sold My book and Dead People are Extremely Accommodating

Filed under: Wolfson Literary, Writing, Young Adult (YA)

 If you haven’t heard me screaming and jumping up and down with joy–you may be suffering from undiagnosed hearing loss.   Why all that hooting and hollering you wonder?  It’s because my most amazing agent, Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency sold my Young Adult novel TOUCHING THE SURFACE to the incredible Anica Rissi at Simon Pulse.  *jumping, shouting, jumping, shouting*

I wish I had some crazy story to reel you in with, but the truth is…

GET YOURSELF A FANTASTIC AGENT WHO KNOWS EXACTLY WHO WOULD BE THE PERFECT EDITOR FOR YOU.  

I know it sounds easier than it is.  I’ve been there.  It’s worth it.  I know that you can do it, so don’t give up.  (((hugs)))

Well, that covers the first half of my title, but I know you’re wondering about the second half.  It’s simple…I write about my Dad a lot.  If you know me or my blog, you know how much he means to me and you’re aware of how much I miss him.  But I have a great Mom and she’s been equally as instrumental in helping me to be who I am today.  The thing is-it’s easier to write about dead people-they don’t argue with you, get disappointed or make you feel shy about expressing your mushy side.  Dead people are extremely accommodating.  They handle your neurosis with kid gloves.  But sometimes, even if you’re not sure if you’ve used the right words, you have to take a risk and talk to the living people too.  

My mom has been lifting me up for as long as I can remember…

She used to write little quotes and notes and tack them to the mirror in my room or put them in my lunch box. I grew up with one on my mirror that started like this…

"Being beautiful isn’t a talent…"  

I looked at that every day and always knew two very important things about myself–my mom thought I was beautiful and she also thought that I was more than that beauty.

Back when I was growing up, a full Angelina Jolie mouth wasn’t popular or pretty.  I can remember standing in front of that mirror and practicing how to hold my mouth so that no one would tease me.  I did it so I wouldn’t hear someone say that my lips were so big that if I licked them, they could stick me to a wall.  The mouth exercises never worked, but the quote was a good anchor to hang onto.  Intellectually I knew how insignificant little comments like that should be-but it doesn’t work that way.  We all know that.

My mother taught me that words have power and that I should use them both carefully and with abandon.

When my Dad passed away, my Mom asked my brother and I if it would be okay if she put our names on their stone.  She wanted to write that Richard and Jean were the parents of Kimberly and Terry.  She wanted everyone to know that raising us was the greatest accomplishment of their lives. Oh, the power of words… 

As you continue to write and search and reach for publication, remember that you write for you and you alone and you do not have to be published to be the greatest accomplishment of someone else’s life.  You write to fill your own soul and you love in order to fill the rest of them.

February 11, 2011

Kim,

Congratulations!!  Grandma always said you were a dreamer.  Lots of people just dream and never do anything about it.  Not you.  When the time was right you took a huge leap, sprouted wings and landed safely in your dreams.  You were blessed with such a wonderful talent and I am so proud of you.  I’m sure Daddy is busting his buttons telling everyone how proud he is of his "beautiful baby"!

You are always in my heart.
                 Mom

The power of words…

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