Parenting Award

If you look at this picture you will notice that I took my kids to Heritage Park... with a gun. That would be my beautiful daughter throwing a gun at her brother.

Note to self: check out what's stored in the Pikachu backpack before leaving the house.

What Would You Do?

I have a question, I've posted it at my Canadian Parents blog, would you mind comin' over and answering it for me?

Market For Ya: Traveling Mamas

Traveling Mamas Anthology

TravelingMamas.com is in search of true uplifting, funny, inspirational, and touching stories with a travel theme for an upcoming anthology series. Possible themes may include family travel, romantic escapes, girlfriend getaways, and solo trips.

We’re looking for stories that inspire us, force us to laugh out loud or make us reach for the tissue box. Bring us into your story by using the five senses. Every story must have a beginning, middle, and end.

Now this is the type of anthology that I need to contribute to! Or, wait, what's the proper grammar... this is the type of anthology in which I should contribute... no, wait, that's passive... I should contribute to this anthology. Perfect!

My daughter, the little traveler, was on 20 different flights before she was 14 months old. She was a dream, quiet, mellow...

But what happened to my quiet little one? She is not so quiet any more... she's in that 'almost 2' stage where it all must be picked up, thrown, tasted, yelled at, bitten, chewed, spit out and sung at.

I think my favourite thing right now is how she calls stars "uppas". You know, like "uppa bove the world so high...." She can see an uppa from a mile away too... we'll be calmly walking along and she'll scream "UPPA!!!" like All Must Stop Now and Behold The Uppa!

M used to say "slookit"... "Slookit that mama!"

I need to keep writing these things down before I forget them.

And then? I'll have your babies.

As part of the regular spring ritual, I signed up the boychild for soccer and t-ball. He likes both. This will be year three of soccer (meaning he can actually run with his head up about half the time) and year two of t-ball. We're not 100% sold on t-ball but we had fun last year.

Every time we sign up there's the "where would you like to volunteer" section. The crafty little buggers don't ask IF you want to volunteer, but WHERE. So I usually choose something like communication or assistant-manager, figuring that I can step in somewhere if needed.

But this year I got an email from both t-ball and soccer mucky-mucks with the "hey, you volunteered to coach" line. Um. No I did not. Not even close. I cannot picture me and a toddler trying to coach anything while Major Man is still working nights.

(Which he won't be doing any more because he got THE JOB!! But I digress...)

So I kind of ignored those emails... and then the t-ball guy contacted me again. He was wondering if I'd could do the division coordinator position. I asked what the duties were.

Let me pause here to say: Never trust anyone who begins an answer with "Oh, it's just..."

The duties sounded simple enough, communicate stuff with coaches. Cool.

Then the email went out to all coaches and it soundes something like "and if you need this, email Heather. And if you need that, email Heather. And if you need a pink orangutan in a tutu with red nail polish, email Heather. And here's every phone number and email address she has. Amen."

Whaaa?

It's day one of 'coordinating' and I have already realized I need to take the t-ball schedule to and from work on a little memory stick so I can reference the games and practices when the coaches email me... sigh.

But the boychild is sure to have fun. I just have to remember that soccer and t-ball are fun, hopefully my head doesn't spin around when we're running ten minutes behind and the baby is tired and hungry and it's a little cold and it's been a long day and I just want to sleep...

Day Care Cam

I can't watch this from work, but because I'm working from home today, I can watch my daughter having fun at day care:

They are playing at the water table, E has her back to the camera and is wearing a white smock to keep dry. The lady sitting next to her is the teacher in charge of the room.

She's the sweetest little lady, only about four-foot-nuthin' and E quite likes her.

E has so much fun at day care that even though I'm home working today, I didn't keep her at home. She saw her dad getting his jacket on and she ran to her jacket saying "on? on? on?" and then as soon as she got her jacket on she grabbed her stuffie and waved at me, saying "bye!", then proceeded to knock on the door so we'd let her out.

Yeah, day care is horrible for children. I'm such a mean parent for subjecting her to institutionalized day care. And even worse, a 'big box' day care like this one.

It's done horrible things to her like send her home singing and dancing and learning to share. What was I thinking?

/sarcasm

You know, if at some point I did find myself working from home, I think I'd still send my daughter to day care in the mornings. I get a lot of work done and she has FUN!!

When I'm feeling judgy

Have you ever had a moment when you are just feeling judgy? You know, when you just want to smack someone or your eyes are rolling so far back in your head that if the wind changes they'll stay that way?

Today was one of those days.

We went to the zoo. (Note, brother carrying his sister's coat and sister saying "get me out of this flippin' contraption, there are animals to squeal at!!)

We did have fun, we had a lot of fun. The kids wore themselves out and they both love the zoo now. M was never a zoo kid, but in the last year he's started to love it. E is a total zoo kid because there are Animals! With fur! And they are cute! Her favourite is the warthog, I swear. She goes nuts when she sees him.

It would have been perfect if it weren't for ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE. I don't mind the kids running around, it's just some of those parents. The lady yelling at her son because he wasn't pushing the stroller right ("you just about ran into that lady!") who five minutes later nearly ran over E with her crazy stroller-pushing-while-dragging-kid maneuvers.

I did feel bad for the one mother who was trying to jam her stroller up a hill and thought she was ramming it over a bump, until she realized that the reason it wouldn't go forward was her child's leg was caught against a fence. Yeah, that sucked for her, I did feel bad.

And the people who STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD or, in the middle of an exhibit without pulling over to the side. What is with that? You are not the only person in the zoo today.

But the zoo was fun for the kids. It was a bit chilly off and on, about 6 degrees celsius. Even I needed a nap when I came home.

But the judgy feeling was still there.

I was watching a show, one of those reality shows where contestants try to lose weight. (It's called X-Weighted, I tried out for it once, but was rejected because there wasn't enough conflict in my life!) This woman is stressing about going back to work after her maternity leave (which in Canada is one year).

She's crying and saying "I don't know how people do it! I don't want to leave my baby!" Which translates to me as "all you other women must be heartless". Which, let's face it, probably wasn't what she meant.

But my inner judge said "suck it up princess".

Which I find really sad! I find it sad that when I'm in uber-PMS, judgy mode because it means that my capacity to love anything and anyone is compromised. And my capacity to receive love is compromised.

So this is what I do:

I clear my mind and pray, asking that the spirit of strife leave me.

I imagine the person I'm judging is sitting in a room with me and it's just them and me... then I try to imagine the words I'm thinking actually coming out of my mouth. I imagine what their face would look like if they heard those words.

I ask forgiveness in my heart for thinking those things. (There but by the grace of God go I.)

I receive the forgiveness (crucial step!!) and I move on.

It can be hard to stop being judgy. I think I mentioned earlier that I was diagnosed with Premenstrual dysphoric disorder or PMDD a few months ago. I take a daily dose of vitamins. Or, rather, I am supposed to. But sometimes I forget. Luckily I have a job that has the side benefit of just enough stress to remind me each day to take my Happy Pills.

But more than a physical reason, being judgmental (well, I call it judgy because it sounds nicer!) can be a habit. And I don't want it to be MY habit any more. The first step is stopping the words from coming out of my mouth. The second step is stopping them from forming in my brain.

I'm a work in progress.

Because he asked me to...

The Baby. She Eats.

My son was not like this. He was an early talker and late walker. He didn't like things being put in his mouth and he didn't have an inclination to put anything in there other than food and maybe his fingers and toes.

But this one? This girl baby? She eats everything.

We were trying to have some coloring time this afternoon. The moment my back was turned she ate the marker. We know better than to give her crayons (very easy to chew) and I guess I thought that the markers would be better... or at least taste worth. But no. They taste just fine thankyouverymuchandcanIhaveanother?

But as a bonus... she does a great job cleaning cheerios off the floor. Who says we need a dog?

My Personal Board of Directors

I have spent a few years sitting and volunteering on boards and committees for various groups. Currently I'm on the executive of one board, a political women's group. It's quite informal and I really enjoy the interaction with other women. I'm on a committee of another and I enjoy it too, though it's quite a bit more work.

It occurred to me tonight that I have a personal board of directors. These are the people I go to with questions and problems and I seek information and feedback from them. I don't always like the feedback I get, and sometimes I know they have an agenda that differs slightly from mine, but I always appreciate that they take the time to "volunteer".

I have Major Man, of course, who carries a lot of weight. He's like the chair of the finance committee... someone smarter than me in certain ways and able to answer the question "can we do this?" The answer is most commonly, we can do anything as long as we can afford it. He's a rock though. 110% in my corner at all times.

Then there's G. She's like the chair of the governance committee. Always ready to give direction if I ask and talk about precedence, procedure and the direction I am headed. Sometimes a conversation feels like an information gathering session, but I don't mind. She's a smart one too. Not much grey in her life, more black and white and she brings a lot of clarity to the table.

And of course J. She's the longest standing member on my board of directors. She's chair of the sponsorship committee, always working on helping me figure out how we're going to do what we want to get done. There are no roadblocks in her view and she helps me to look ahead positively.

M and E play a roll. They are the membership. They are the reason I need that board of directors to ensure I'm a success.

I don't always like what my committee members are telling me, I don't always like what the membership wants me to do. But I am glad for both of them. If they weren't here I would feel as though I were adrift. I mean, what would I DO all day?

I hope you have a personal board of directors. People who volunteer their time for you.

Balancing

Act as if it were impossible to fail.
-- Dorothea Brande


A co-worker of mine said recently, "I don't know how you do it all, I can hardly figure out how to be a dad and work full time... but you are a mom, you work full time and you have all these other things going on."


I admit, my plate is a little full. And I do have to stop once and a while and make sure that my full plate does not become too much of a source of pride. Because you know what comes after pride... right?


And I don't really want to drop a full plate.


I think that the reason I take on so much, is that I don't believe I will fail at them. I look at a task and think, "can I do this? do I want to do this?" and if my heart says yes both times, then I take it on.


Periodically, and driven by my own stress level, I reassess and sometimes I scoop a little off that full plate. I did that recently when I stepped down off of a committee that I'd spent two years chairing. It meant a lot to me, but at the same time I recognized that I had to let it go so someone else could do a better job.

Other things came in to fill it's spot... but they were different things, I could do them better or they took less energy or they were a better fit with my family.

I've also started trying to multi-task LESS and I'm finding I get MORE done. It used to be that I tried to juggle everything, including being a mom. But I started to realized that at the end of the day while I was here with my kids, I wasn't here for them. Once I started working full time and my son went back to school, I started seeing them even less. It meant that I wanted the time with them to be about them... not about me on the computer.

So now I spend more time playing, talking and attending. And when they are in bed, I sit down here at the computer and write.

Chicken Soup for the Working Mom's Soul

I just got my copy of CS for the Working Mom's Soul - my essay appears on page 237. This marks the second time I've been in a Chicken Soup book.

Chicken Soup essays don't pay a huge amount, but they pay enough, in my books. I will often sit down and write some personal essays just for the heck of it. I might turn them in to blog posts or I might hang on to them. Both of my CS essays have come about this way. So when I see a call out, I remember an essay I wrote and I submit it. So far I'm 2 for 2.

I think being a working mom is probably the toughest job in the world. It can be very hard to leave being a mom at home and leave work at work. I'm lucky to have great family support and one wonderful babysitter. Plus, my son is having a much better year at school this year, so I worry far less than I did last year.

But still, there never seems to be enough time in the day to do everything I want to do. Blogging and writing are scheduled in for the 3 pm - to 10 pm time at home. At work I think I'm the most efficient because I have one thing to focus on: my job. Now it seems that when I'm at home, I'm doubly distracted. Supper-homework-diapers-writing-friends-phone calls-after school... it all gets squished in to seven hours in the afternoon evening. Sometimes I feel like I am not doing everything as well as I could.

My daughter is benefitting from more one on one time with her dad. He is with her a lot during the week while I'm at work. He doesn't work at home, which means that he has a lot of time to focus on her. She's thriving! Part of me feels a little guilty, she wasn't as talkative and easy to interact with when I was home because I spent a great deal of time distracting her so I could get some writing done.

That's the gist of my essay in CS for the Working Mom's Soul. How to balance being at home for your kids and being *there* for them too.

Working Squared

We fall asleep with a pile of laundry between us. A testament to the day's unfinished business. Most nights a six year old boy clambers over the pile, sometimes using it as his blanket and I wake up to find boy drool on my pillow and my son using my good work pants - the ones that don't cut me off in the middle and hang nice with their pleat - as his binkie.

My husband, Major Man, is softly snoring on the other side of the mountain of laundry. I can reach him with my fingers and sometimes fall asleep with my hand on his arm. I say snoring softly because we recently discovered those nose, uh, thingies that open the nasal passages.

So my hand can rest on his arm, instead of my toe or finger poking him in the side to Roll Over Already You Great Snoring Oaf.

I've been working a lot lately. My new-again job is in sales and my hours (which recently changed) are 7am - 3pm. Three days a week my husband stays home to take M to school and watch E for the rest of the day, until I return. Two afternoons a week, the sweet neighbour lady watches E until my return.

Upon my return I have a few minutes to download my email and check for emergencies in my inbox.

I know I've babbled about this before... so lets move on.

In theory, it looked like I'd have plenty of time to write in the afternoons. But instead my time feels strained, condensed and overflowing all at the same time. I feel that so many tasks are being left undone (the laundry being one of them) and so many balls are being dropped (a query? what is that?) that I feel suddenly like I'm only half a mom and half a writer...

Sure, I can almost read your comments already: just let the laundry go, don't worry about having a clean house, make more macaroni...

But I love my house in order; I just don't do it very well. I need to have clean work clothes; I just can't wash clothes worth a damn. I like feeding my kids healthy food; I just don't have the time to shop for it.

I'm re-reading To Hell with All That: Loving and Loathing Our Inner Housewife by Caitlin Flanagan. I quit reading it last time right around the same chapter I'm on now. The chapter where she starts talking about a nanny.

First of all, it would cost me about $2000 a month for a nanny... and then there would be the guilt. Oh, oh, oh the guilt of having someone else rock my babies to sleep. Someone else hugging their bumps better.

But then.... someone else doing the laundry. Someone else reminding me to pick up diapers before I reach in the bag and pull out the last one because Major Man apparently thinks that the Diaper Fairy brings them...

This time I kind of get it. Last time I was disgusted that Flanagan would think about hiring a nanny... I was bothered by her admissions that she was ok with someone else doing all the child raising. But reading it now, I see she wasn't ok with it at all.. she is ok with it now, which is easy to be when you've done something.

She just realized that something had to give. She wasn't going to do It All. She wasn't going to buy into the story that I have, that I can bake my own bread, work full time, write the rest of the time, be a good mom, have the laundry done, the shopping squared away and still get to Beavers and swimming and .... and .....

So I've been re-jigging the priorities. I may write a bit less, I no longer feel the burning desire to write anything and everything that gets offered to me.

'Scuse me... was I staring?

Like all great and wonderful parents, I signed my son up for Beavers hoping I'd be able to drop him off and escape for an hour a week. After I remembered that I had another child, I also remembered he's probably going to learn fun things like starting fires and how to read a map. Which means I won't be able to say "just a short trip" when we're driving across hell's half acre again. And I should hide the matches.

So it was with considerable trepidation that we made our way to the Beaver Hike so we could schlep around the local green space then congregate with 30 other kids around a little fire pit and try to roast wieners and marshmallows. Frankly I'm surprised no one got a flaming marshmallow in the eye. To make it even more exciting, the campsite was right on the edge of a 20 foot drop off into the creek. Fun!

Guess where the boys all wanted to sit. You guessed it, next to the drop off.

Truthfully (and I say truthfully because of course everything else here is a total lie) it was enjoyable. The fall foliage was beautiful, the air was just crisp enough to be invigorating, and the boys had a blast. A few leaders grumbled about the lack of organization, but I don't think a single boy complained. Funny, that.

The other parents provided great people viewing opportunities for me. Yes, I'm one of those people that thinks she's surreptitiously sneaking glances at others when in fact I'm probably standing there staring at them so hard that I'm starting to mimic their facial expressions. No lie (more lies!) I've caught myself doing that. But the parents are hilarious:

Former Girl Guide: spending her time saying things like "remember when we did this in Girl Guides" I find myself strangely attracted to her. No, not in THAT way but kind of like I wanted desperately to be liked by the cool girls in Girl Guides when I was Looser Mc-Looserton with one earring and a mop of messy red hair. Unfortunately I don't know any of the campfire songs she tries to start singing so I flunk out of the cool girl club. Again.

Skater Dude All Alone In Woodsmanville: With his bleached blond hair and the funky nest of hair JUST on the bottom of his chin (it kind of looks like a big brown cotton ball) he most decidedly does NOT fit in with the rest of the male leaders, most of whom are carrying axes and know how to use them. I half expected him to stand around the fire warming himself, turn to me and say "puff puff give dude".

Grandma and Grandpa Taking Over for Mom and Dad: Of course someone begged off of parental duties this evening and made grandma and grandpa go on the hike with the kids. I felt a little sorry for the kids, especially since grandpa risked a hip injury trying to climb down the bank to retrieve a marshmallow stick while everyone else stared, some checking their cell phone service to see if they could get a line out to 911 if they needed to.

Hitler Mom: overheard telling her son exactly how to play Red Light Green Light and telling him to listen carefully in Chinese Telephone. Missed the point completely I think.

By the end of the hike I was sufficiently plied with hot chocolate, perfectly toasted marshmallows and half a cold weiner and we headed home. Just in time because one second it was dusk and the next it was night time.

I Have Broken the Flux Capacitor

At this moment in my life I believe I am operating at full capacity. I don't think I have room for one more thing. Perhaps that's why Jordan Sadler's article, An Open Letter to My Son's PTA really struck a chord with me.

Some of us need to work full time. Some of us even need to work more than full time. For the past year and a bit I've been revelling in my abilities to work from home while raising my kids. You could say that I might even have been smug about it. I tried hard not to be. After all, I'd been a full time working single mother for a while so I knew that we all do the best we can at the time.

But even last year as I wrote my book and I juggled a full slate of columns and articles, I squeezed in a piddly four or five volunteer mornings in the Kindergarten classroom. The teachers were very accomodating and let me bring my daughter in while I volunteered. But it became apparent that we were more of a distraction than anything.

And I tried to get to the PTA meetings, I did. But, um, they coincided with my Thursday night off. And I love my Thursday night TV line up, it's my night to relax and veg and maybe even drink a beer glass of wine while hanging out with my husband.

And I admit, that activity had priority over listening to moms with pet projects complain about the lack of funding for security cameras/rubber bits for the playground/paint for walls... It seemed that there was already a clique of moms who had either raised their kids next door to each other, had their kids on the same team or volunteered at the same preschool. I did not fit in.

I tried. But I couldn't get revved up about their projects. I asked questions about why they were necessary or why we needed to paint the library wall two months before the end of school when a) the walls are covered in posters and b) the unionized maintenance staff will get around to it one of these years.

Anyways. I thought maybe I'd get involved this year.

But now I have n+1 projects on my plate where n = the maximum amount I should have and remain sane.

I now work from 6 am to 2 pm and let me tell you... me going around and saying I had "better hours" is somewhat of a pipe dream. Sure it's nice to leave the office at 2pm... but it's not so nice to leave the house at 5:45 am. They say I'll adjust.

I have one proposal sitting at four publishers. I have a query into my current publisher and I'm waiting to find out if they want a detailed proposal or an outline.

I have an article due on the 12th.

I also fly away for four days on the 12th.

I got sucked into going to a golf tournament for work on Monday. Forgetting that it's been four years since I've golfed...

I just begun my Pampered Chef training.

I am late in sending out my eNewsletter.

My juggling act is wobbly. My hold on sanity is tenuous. My veneer is cracking. I may be at maximum velocity, Captain.

(Cross posted at Mama Needs A Book Contract)

And now... for something controversial...

I have a daughter. Thankfully she's one and not a teenager, or even close to it. (Though she does put on some spectacular teenager-worthy tantrums!) So I currently don't have to worry about the HPV vaccine.

That doesn't stop me from thinking about it though. I worry because it seems to have been pushed through so fast. It went from "available" to "we think it should be compulsory" pretty darn quick.

Like the mother of many girls, I hope my daughter makes good choices when it comes to matters of the heart (or, let's face it, of other body parts too) and I do intend to promote abstinance. But I speak very openly about sex and other topics with my kids because I don't want them to learn stories from their friends. I will also discuss methods of birth control and what they protect against (besides babies).

I don't see the HPV vaccine as something that undermines abstinance. I just see it as a vaccine that we don't know a lot about. I hope that in ten years that we haven't learned that it was really something horrible. I have family members who have been harmed by medications that doctors promoted as safe... until problems cropped up years later.

But reading this article brought something home for me:

Dr. Foley says she'd never fault someone who vetoes the vaccine because of her
trust in her child's lifestyle choices, but she adds, "Given the number of circumstances we cannot control in our children's lives, I think the vaccine is a good idea." Some choose to vaccinate, even if their child has pledged chastity until marriage and monogamy afterwards, because of what they can't guarantee:

That their child won't be forced into a sexual situation.
That their child's marriage will be lifelong and mutually monogamous.
That their daughter won't be sexually active.

Can I guarantee those things? Can I protect my daughter from ever being assaulted? Gosh, I wish I could say yes... but I have to face reality. Can I guarantee that my daughter's marraige will be lifelong and mutually monagamous? I pray for it... but I cannot guarantee it.

What do you think?

School Prep

At the end of last year the Kindergarten teacher told me that M. has issues with printing. I knew, of course, that he was a bit wobbly. However up until that final report card she assured me that it was normal boy behaviour.

Then I saw the words "will experience difficulty in Grade One due to poor writing skills". (Or something along those lines, I have already translated the teacher-speak for you here!) I realized that I'd been blissfully believing his printing would get better on its own. So as soon as school was out I started asking M. to print things for me every day. We started with a sentance and I let him choose what to print.

At first it was "I like my baby sister" and "I like to play outside" but soon it became "I like toys" and "I am cold"... shorter sentances that could get him out of his printing duties faster.

I smile. Then go buy lined printing paper so he can practice the ABCs.

And maze and connect the dot books so he can strengthen his fine motor skills.

I encourage him to color and draw me pictures.

But it dawns on me that my love of school and my love of writing is not genetically passed on. He is the lover of cars and spiders, the bike rider and Jedi Knight, the video game player and part-time Transformer.

I have, however, fostered a love of words. He has a huge vocabulary (which he uses mostly to impress friends and get out of trouble) because we read three books ever night.

I've tried explaining to him that I know he's smart and I love when he explains things to me, but in school you also have to explain things by writing them down to show the teacher. He accepts this and has just now accepted that you should also write in a line. Very often his words would all be there... just in their own order. Three letters, line break, three letters, line break. Last letter. I could read it, he could read it... but unfortunately that's not How It's Done.

So today he was practicing his c's and d's before he could play his video game and he was complaining about why he had to do it. I said that it's good to practice, that I'm proud of his letters and I want to see him write. He complained again.

Then I heard it come out of my mouth.

"I'll give you a quarter for every line you write."

Shoot. I didn't even think before that came out. I started adding up the number of lines he might write. I started thinking about whether or not it's unethical to pay your child to do his work. Will I start paying for A's and B's next? (We don't do A's and B's in Canada... we do percentages...) Will I end up with a kid that says "what's in it for me, show me the money?"

Hopefully not. I think I'll put a stop to it. Soon we'll have homework to do... I just have to vow not to pay him for doing his homework. Goodness... I'd be broke by grade three!

Car Seats

Please watch this video.

You may think that your child is too big for a five point harness carseat. You may think that now that he or she is 40 lbs that they can ride in just a booster or just a seat belt.

Please watch the video. I cried all the way through it.

Back from vacation

Just got back this afternoon from a week-long vacation in the mid-west. Indiana to be exact. Now I'm a Canadian prairie girl so the mid-west feels very homey to me. It's different than home, of course, being that it isn't home... I love the huge trees that seem plucked right off of a romance cover and the humidity that does loverly things to my hair. (I kind of like it curly and unruly!)

One of the highlights of my trip was getting together for lunch with Shirley Jump. We actually didn't talk shop a lot, but she was very helpful with advice on family matters!

Sometimes family matters can really get you down. If perfect strangers were doing the same things our family did, we could let it slide. But because it's family, it's close to the bone.

I learned an important lesson this week. I am the most important advocate for my children. I can stand up firmly and draw the lines around my family so that my children know just how much I value them.

And to my former mother in law: I am SORRY. I had NO IDEA what I had in you. You are a wonderful grandmother, let me never take you for granted, I'm so happy you are in our lives. Granted, I wouldn't have stayed married to your son just for you (because honestly, we're better friends now than we were when we were married) but you are worth your weight in gold not just as a grandma, but as a mother in law. How precious it is to have an ally.

Now. I had so many ideas for articles while I was on vacation! I am just dancing at centre here, waiting to get some queries out the door. I put myself on a writing diet on vacation and did not write a word, didn't even start up my laptop! I wanted to some times, but I didn't... and it feels so good to be back at the keyboard today!

The kids had fun as well... getting to know their cousins. I think their cousins are sweethearts and I really enjoyed getting to know them as well!

Emily took her first steps this past week. Actually the first couple of steps were on a boat and we kind of looked at each other and said "now is that because the boat moved and she rebalanced herself, or did she just take a couple of steps?"She's taken to grinning at people with MY OWN CRINKLY GRIN. This face is identical to about fifty of my baby pictures. Major Man calls it the "who farted grin".

And the almost-six-year-old wouldn't get off the pool steps on day one, but was dog-paddling all over the pool by the last day! I have plenty of smiling pictures of him, but I feel like showing you the "I pout, therefore I am" one that I got when he decided that is cousin wasn't being fair.

I had no idea it was so hard to teach the rules of fairness and sharing. He's a conundrum, my son.

Of Other Mothers

Joshilyn (Joss, never Josh) Jackson has an interview up today on her blog Faster Than Kudzu. If you don't read Joss' blog, then you are missin' out on some funny stuff.

Julie Kenner is back to talk about the latest in her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series and she talks about how her life as a writer changed after she had a child:

My schedule has changed dramatically over the years. At first, I was practicing law while writing and my husband was in grad school. We would both come home from work/school and write/study. Worked great :)

Then I had a baby, and life got hectic. I wrote in the evenings after she went to sleep until I could afford to quit and write full time. Then I had her in day care and would write during the day.

She has turned 5 and is in school now, but since we homeschool, she’s home with me during the day, and so is her sister, who we adopted at age three last October. So now I have two kids at home with me doing school (or preK play) during what used to be my writing time. So I’m back to writing in the evenings and squeezing it in.

Right now, a day might be:

7:30 — get up and veg in the recliner while the girls watch Curious George.
8:00 – noonish — school with the oldest while the littlest does “play school” and some speech and sign language games.
noon-1 — lunch, and I’ll usually answer emails while they eat
1-2 – any school we haven’t finished
2-5 – they play, sometimes by themselves, sometimes with me. I try to do non-writing writing stuff (emails,mailings, etc.). Or errands.
5-6 – daddy time. I write
Family time until their bedtime.
9-whenever. My writing time.

When I’m on a crazy deadline (like last week) going to bed at 2-3 is common. And I often will beg my mom to come over around lunch time once or twice a week to play with the girls so those afternoon hours can be writing time. During those weeks we squeeze in karate, piano and speech therapy for the little one!

It’s insane, but I’m loving it.

I heartily encourage you to go read it the rest of it. This past month I've also been begging my mother to come over and help with the kids, or I ship them over there for a break. She brings them back bathed, pajama'd, tired and ready for bed. That is a big secret to my success! (Thanks mom!)

IN WHICH I HAVE SOME CHEESE WITH MY WHINE

Oh I'm a little cranky today. It was one of THOSE days where nothing gets done. Where every time I ventured within a foot of my computer I would be pulled away by one of the kids.

My son is pretty easy to appease. He can pretty much be pointed in a direction and he'll run with it. My daughter, 10.5 months, not so much. Her favorite thing to do as soon as I sit at the computer is to crawl over and head for the cables beneath the desk I really wish I was organized enough to have my cables all neat and tidy and tucked. But I'm not.

I try to block her with my legs, but I can't really move since I'm usually worried about moving my chair and rolling it over a finger.

That lasts all of a minute before she objects and I pick her up and go play. Apparently she doesn't yet understand "Mommy has to transcribe three long interviews, honey!"

So why am I sitting here blogging...?