A Day In The Life

So, I've been doing a lot of promo lately and figured it was about time to do a real life blog.

It's named a day in the life in honor of Eleanor Roosevelt--who I now know a whole lot about due to studying her and her husband for finals--since she wrote a series of articles about a day in the life of a first lady.

I'm not a first lady.  I'm a glamorous romance writer.  My life is the stuff of Romancing the Stone.

Or not.

After cramming for finals and getting hardly any sleep this week, I crashed early last night.  I then got up at the buttcrack of dawn.  Checking emails, I saw first round edits for Proper Care and Feeding of a Sex God, now renamed Taming a Sex God.  Coffee in hand, I whipped through them and fired them back to my editor.  I realized I was late.

I jumped in and out of the shower in record time and stuffed my kiddo in the car.  Realizing I forgot to get cash out of the bank for the Santa Shoppe he was headed to (and I was volunteering at) we popped in and out of an atm and went to school.

Signing him in late, because I'm a rockstar of a mama, I headed off with a friend to do some quality volunteer time.  It was actually pretty cool since I got to play store (aka work the register) and chit chat with my buddy.  Then I had lunch with my kiddo and helped tiny humans. 

Although fun, this was tiring, and more socializing than I usually do in a month, so I headed home, checked on my oldest and then passed out for an hour (Note: I mentioned this is finals week for college, right?)

I woke to an offer of cookies in exchange for my mad artistic skills so I got cookies.  I then checked my cell phone because the boys were riding bikes on the dirt road behind our house, mucking around in the woods and around the creek.  They texted me pictures of a frozen deer corpse they found in the creek.

KID YOU NOT...they texted me pictures of a body in frozen water.  Apparently this was a fascinating find for the boys.  Gruesome but fascinating.

Gaaaak.  They had hot cocoa and cookies and I packed up my stuff to go to the high school for a meeting with the music boosters.

I got all fired up because they don't have a music program in our elementary school right now (budget cuts) so I threw out ideas, thoughts, and am planning on now playing advocate for replacing our depleted performing arts program.  Yes, I'm now the secretary of the music program.  *bows*

Now I'm back home, with another round of edits in my inbox, plans to research music grants and the positive and negative impacts of no music program, cramming for an art final tomorrow and...oh yeah, I have work to do.

So, yes, this is a day in the life of a glamorous writer.  You're all jealous right now, aren't you?

Happy Writing!

Rise of Zombie Boy

Through a series of unfortunate events involving an old glass door, a stubborn eleven year old, and an annoyed teenager...my son had a battle with glass this past weekend.

Glass won.

The door broke, raining glass down on him and slicing his arms resulting in fifty one agonizing stitches and a vision I can't seem to UNsee. Luckily, the glass falling didn't cut any muscle tissue, nerves or anything else important but instead skinned him...making me see the fat and muscle below.  According to the ER nurse, it looked far worse than it really was because of how the glass fell.

It looked like something worse than my worst nightmare.

The amazing thing was his level of trust.  I guess I never realized how very much my children trust me to make bad things better.  Once he saw me, once he heard my voice, he didn't cry.  (This was partially due to shock since it didn't hurt until they began numbing him up but it was still horrific.)  He calmly talked to me and the doctors, assuming that because I was there, I'd fix it.

I did.  I doubted my ability to fix this one but I did fix it.

Now he's wandering the house like a restless ghost, unable to play because of the bandages but back to his normal cheerful self.  And I keep staring at him, amazed that he knew I'd be able to fix this one.

He's okay.  I keep hugging him as if to reassure myself of this. 

During the chaos, my children both acted much like me, which was amusing.  My son, with huge gashes in his arm, was very concerned with the towel he ruined with his blood.  My daughter, although she handled the whole thing well, at one point yelled at my son and didn't let him sit on a couch because he'd get blood on it.  Both of them inherited my ability to appologize for things they had no control over...

All in all, the whole experience taught me my kids have a bit more of me than I realized and both of them trust me, even when I'm not sure I deserve that awe-inspiring level of trust.

But zombie boy is doing well.  And I'm a very happy mommy to have everyone home and though stitched up, in one piece.

He likes this song...and it seemed apt.  Some nights are fun and some nights...yeah.

Happy Christmas

My kids have had a wonderful Christmas morning and I am pretty sure we are in for a fantastic Christmas day. Uncle Chad is joining us this year so not only will we be having dinner with our 'adopted' family but we will have him there to share it. On top of that, visits are planned to grandparents and aunts...

All in all a wonderful day. But the things that I am grateful for aren't under that tree... Although I am crazy grateful for everyone that helped make this morning so wonderful for my babies...

I am grateful for the people who helped make today special. I am happy that my three kids are healthy and warm this morning. I am grateful that I am alive to see it.

None of this should be taken for granted.

Our life isn't perfect. I would love to have a man to curl into while I watch the kids shredding paper from glittering presents under the glow of the tree. I would love to go get in my car and not worry that the damn thing is gonna blow up. I would love to say that I am not ever worried over money, or family issues or dramatic battles of epic proportions.

But, y'see, it doesn't matter. Because there are so many other things that are so close to perfect that this morning... I have got to sit back and say...

Thank you. Thank you to a universe that made my life so happy and full. Thank you to friends and family that make me feel loved and secure. Thank you for my children's health and that I am here on this Christmas morning to hear the little comments they are making and the rattle of Lego's newly opened.

Thank you.

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it. And to those who don't, I wish you peace.