I love my life, however, that's not to say I don't have problems, frustrations, and flat out trials--with a capitol T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Portland.
That's right; Portland.
This is where I go in my mind when life get so overwhelming that I just want to chuck all the great things I have in it. I close my eyes and I imagine that I live in a studio apartment in Portland, and it's raining, and my shift at K-mart doesn't start for two hours. I'm hungry--and guess what? I don't have to feed anyone but ME! If I want the last piece of cake from last night, I can eat it all by myself and not have to give a bite to anyone, much less eat it in the bathroom so that no one sees me. Guess who's clothes are in the dryer? MINE! and they are clothes that need to be ironed because in my fantasy world I buy that kind of clothes because I have time to iron them! And guess what my couches look like? Floral patterned. Yep, great big peonies and daisy's and stuff. They are girly, and they are cute and I love them and that's all that matters. Not a single other person made decorating decisions. Just me. My TV uses one remote, I wake up when I want to, and I read all night if I feel like it. My calendar fits in my purse because only my appointments are written on it. I keep chocolate out ON THE COUNTER and save up my money so I can take cool vacations which are cheap, because it's just me! I don't go to amusement parks out of obligation; I don't spend all my money on school clothes while pining after a new pair of jeans for myself. I watch The Scarlet Pimpernell over and over, saying the dialogue with Percy and Margarite. No one makes fun of me for it. I have three bills--gas, power, and car insurance. I drive a VW bug that never breaks down. Food costs me $100 a month and I don't buy chicken because I don't EAT chicken, which means I never have to touch the gross slimey stuff just to make someone else happy. I go barefoot because there is never sand on the floor and I can't tell you how much it costs to enroll a kid in high-school because I don't care about that stuff.
My husband is well aware of my fantasy world. He has one too--but his involves a New York City apartment that overlooks Wall Street and Central Park. He's a billionaire that doesn't worry about homeowners insurance claims or incidental expenses like shoes for the kids instead of new tires. He never eats at home and works 16 hours a day. He owns about eight cars--but pays someone to drive him around in a Bentley.
I mentioned this fantasy world to my friend Julie Wright once; I thought she'd tell me I was unstable (though it's probably not a good idea to tell unstable people that they are unstable--maybe over the phone, but not in person) and she admitted she had a fantasy world she escaped too as well. We're both unstable!
And so I'm curious; are we the only ones--Lee, Julie, and I? Or does everyone have this 'escape' in their mind that serves to allow them to re-appreciate what they do have? In your fantasy world can you leave chocolate out on the counter instead of hiding it in your sock drawer?
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Fall--phew!
I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was nine years old. Why? Because I was terrified of falling. Each time someone would try to teach me, I would fall and refuse to try again--until my embarrassment of being the only kid my age that couldn't ride got me on the bike again. finally, at nine years old I figured it out--and didn't fall. At our house no one 'owned' a bike. Because there were so many of us we simply had a plethora of sizes, you would choose the one that fit you best and it was yours until you got back home. If you ended up with the yellow sparkly one with the banana seat and white wicker basket--well, show up in the garage earlier next time!
Once I knew how to drive, I don't think I ever rode a bike again.
About four years ago I bought a bike for our oldest daughter and I got the idea to buy one for myself. My first bike!
I got a nice one--a cross-something or other that could do road and mountain trail. The next day I strapped on my helmet (first time I'd ever worn one) and set off. I was home two miles and ten minutes later. My legs and lungs were on fire. I parked the bike, very disappointed that it was so hard. I wanted a nice easy, fast moving exercise. I'd been robbed! Over the next four years I probably put about 25 miles on that bike and most of those trips were with the kids to the church and back.
Last summer I started running with a good friend, Tiffany. Tiffany is amazing and different from any woman I've ever known as an adult. She LIKES exercise! She and her family all swim like freaking dolphins, they run, they bike. But not in the freaky-guru "I only wear Nike t-shirts so you'll know what an athlete I am" kind of way, but in the "I love the satisfaction of having had my body in motion."
Well, I'm a satisfaction freak. I love 'finishing' something. So, with her as my running buddy I got up to 3 miles. When an injury caused her to cut back, I kept going. I went four and five miles! I ran a couple 5K's and came to love the accomplishment at the end of a run.
One thing Tiff and her family do is biking--and I mean BIKING. Last summer she biked around Utah lake--it's 100 miles. Each time she would tell me about these excursions I would think of my bike sitting in the garage. I asked her questions about riding on the side of the highway--had she ever been hit by a Diesel and put in traction for 6 months? In fact, she had not. What if her chain fell off? She FIXED it, all by herself. The woman is amazing. Finally, a couple weeks ago I bit the bullet and rode my bike to a church meeting, three miles away. I'm sure the women there thought I was dying when I arrived--I was sweaty and my face was bright red and I had to excuse myself so that I could catch my breath. I wasn't sure I liked it. I had to ride on the highway and every time a car passed me I would hold my breath, sure it was going to take me out. My hands were sore by the time I got home because I would clench them each time a car came up on me from behind. But I did survive, and therefore I had 'success' and, as I said, I'm a success freak.
Since that night my husband and I have gone on a few bike rides together. It's been a lot of fun to push ourselves and cover so much ground. We're up to about 8 miles, and it only takes about 40 minutes. We live in a beautiful place and love getting out into it. But in the back of my mind has been a niggling fear. What if I fall? I mean, I KNEW I would fall eventually, and at times that thought terrified me to the point of letting Lee ride alone. Remember, I love success, not failure, and falling is a failure I don't want to face. Every time we get on the bikes I think about it, worry about it, and then proceed with extreme caution. I don't WANT to fall. I want to ride.
Last night we went up on the canal road, which overlooks Willard and Willard Bay. It's breathtakingly beautiful, but the road is rutted and has a drop off on one side. I tried not to think about falling, but it was hard not to. Tt was not the road I wanted to fall on (not that there was a road I wanted to fall on, but you get my point). My rear brake is out on my bike--something I manage to forget between each ride. Every hill had my heart pounding as I pictured the back wheel of my bike cartwheeling over the front. We turned back when the sun began to set, with Lee in the lead, and came to a portion of road that was deeply rutted. I decided it would be best to stay up on the ridge between the two ruts. It worked for a little while, until my back wheel fell into one of the ruts, forcing my front wheel to the side. I yanked back on it, tried to correct and instead went down on my left side. I wasn't going very fast, and I didn't fall very far, but I caught myself with my hands. I sat there for a minute, my hip throbbing, my hands burning and then felt the strangest sense of relief.
I'd fallen. But I was okay. The thing I had feared all along was over with.
The fall hadn't destroyed me, it hadn't damaged me beyond repair. I got up, brushed off and got back on my bike so I could catch up with Lee and take advantage of his sympathy. When I got home, I had to clean the rocks out of my hand--OUCH! But I continued to have the thought go through my head "I'm okay."
Not only that, I'm smarter too. On Monday, I'm going to get my rear brake fixed--it's silly for me to ride a bike that's missing half it's stopping ability. I'm also going to get some hand guards, so if I fall again, I won't imbed rocks into my flesh. I've LEARNED something from the experience, and that is a SUCCESS. Bring it on!
And it got me thinking. How often does the fear of falling keep us on the ground? And have you ever 'fallen' only to realize that it wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be? AND, if not for those inevitable falls in life, would we ever learn anything at all?
I'd love to hear your stories.
Once I knew how to drive, I don't think I ever rode a bike again.
About four years ago I bought a bike for our oldest daughter and I got the idea to buy one for myself. My first bike!
I got a nice one--a cross-something or other that could do road and mountain trail. The next day I strapped on my helmet (first time I'd ever worn one) and set off. I was home two miles and ten minutes later. My legs and lungs were on fire. I parked the bike, very disappointed that it was so hard. I wanted a nice easy, fast moving exercise. I'd been robbed! Over the next four years I probably put about 25 miles on that bike and most of those trips were with the kids to the church and back.
Last summer I started running with a good friend, Tiffany. Tiffany is amazing and different from any woman I've ever known as an adult. She LIKES exercise! She and her family all swim like freaking dolphins, they run, they bike. But not in the freaky-guru "I only wear Nike t-shirts so you'll know what an athlete I am" kind of way, but in the "I love the satisfaction of having had my body in motion."
Well, I'm a satisfaction freak. I love 'finishing' something. So, with her as my running buddy I got up to 3 miles. When an injury caused her to cut back, I kept going. I went four and five miles! I ran a couple 5K's and came to love the accomplishment at the end of a run.
One thing Tiff and her family do is biking--and I mean BIKING. Last summer she biked around Utah lake--it's 100 miles. Each time she would tell me about these excursions I would think of my bike sitting in the garage. I asked her questions about riding on the side of the highway--had she ever been hit by a Diesel and put in traction for 6 months? In fact, she had not. What if her chain fell off? She FIXED it, all by herself. The woman is amazing. Finally, a couple weeks ago I bit the bullet and rode my bike to a church meeting, three miles away. I'm sure the women there thought I was dying when I arrived--I was sweaty and my face was bright red and I had to excuse myself so that I could catch my breath. I wasn't sure I liked it. I had to ride on the highway and every time a car passed me I would hold my breath, sure it was going to take me out. My hands were sore by the time I got home because I would clench them each time a car came up on me from behind. But I did survive, and therefore I had 'success' and, as I said, I'm a success freak.
Since that night my husband and I have gone on a few bike rides together. It's been a lot of fun to push ourselves and cover so much ground. We're up to about 8 miles, and it only takes about 40 minutes. We live in a beautiful place and love getting out into it. But in the back of my mind has been a niggling fear. What if I fall? I mean, I KNEW I would fall eventually, and at times that thought terrified me to the point of letting Lee ride alone. Remember, I love success, not failure, and falling is a failure I don't want to face. Every time we get on the bikes I think about it, worry about it, and then proceed with extreme caution. I don't WANT to fall. I want to ride.
Last night we went up on the canal road, which overlooks Willard and Willard Bay. It's breathtakingly beautiful, but the road is rutted and has a drop off on one side. I tried not to think about falling, but it was hard not to. Tt was not the road I wanted to fall on (not that there was a road I wanted to fall on, but you get my point). My rear brake is out on my bike--something I manage to forget between each ride. Every hill had my heart pounding as I pictured the back wheel of my bike cartwheeling over the front. We turned back when the sun began to set, with Lee in the lead, and came to a portion of road that was deeply rutted. I decided it would be best to stay up on the ridge between the two ruts. It worked for a little while, until my back wheel fell into one of the ruts, forcing my front wheel to the side. I yanked back on it, tried to correct and instead went down on my left side. I wasn't going very fast, and I didn't fall very far, but I caught myself with my hands. I sat there for a minute, my hip throbbing, my hands burning and then felt the strangest sense of relief.
I'd fallen. But I was okay. The thing I had feared all along was over with.
The fall hadn't destroyed me, it hadn't damaged me beyond repair. I got up, brushed off and got back on my bike so I could catch up with Lee and take advantage of his sympathy. When I got home, I had to clean the rocks out of my hand--OUCH! But I continued to have the thought go through my head "I'm okay."
Not only that, I'm smarter too. On Monday, I'm going to get my rear brake fixed--it's silly for me to ride a bike that's missing half it's stopping ability. I'm also going to get some hand guards, so if I fall again, I won't imbed rocks into my flesh. I've LEARNED something from the experience, and that is a SUCCESS. Bring it on!
And it got me thinking. How often does the fear of falling keep us on the ground? And have you ever 'fallen' only to realize that it wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be? AND, if not for those inevitable falls in life, would we ever learn anything at all?
I'd love to hear your stories.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Follow, Follow Me!
I feel so special! I have 38 followers; now if that doesn't make a girl feel loved, I don't know what will. And it's nice to feel loved.
Yesterday was my 'Throw Rocks at the World Day" I have them about once a month. Sometimes it comes on a day when I am too busy to notice and so I manage to brush it off until it slithers back into the moldy undergrowth where it came from. Other days, like yesterday, it's claws dig into my flesh as it crawls up my back and cackles in my ear. All.....day.....long.
Nothing went horribly wrong, but nothing went right either. Everything and everyone annoyed me and the only thing I wanted was silence. Which is impossible. Therefore I was just irritated all day. Lee finally asked me if I was mad at him (after asking me six times what was wrong and me saying "NOTHING, OKAY!") and I said no, not really, I was just . . . mad about everything. Then I listed everything that had me annoyed--to which I believe he was thinking "Why did I ask?"
Today, I felt better--especially when I realized I had 38 followers--almost double what I had when I started the contest last week :-) So thank you, to everyone that posted reviews and followed me and helped me get over myself.
So, on that note, I put all the names (multiplied by how many times you entered) into www.random.org and ran the list 4 times because I have four angelic children, even when I don't like them. The poor dears--to be vexed with such a mother as I, sigh.
I had 53 entries! That totally rocks, so thank you everyone.
Anyway, so ran the lists and the winner is . . .
Jenna! Which is particularly fitting because she's the kind of mom I wish I were, especially on days like yesturday. If you don't read her blog at www.cranberrycorner.blogspot.com, you should. You're life will be enriched by her perspectives on life and family.
Jenna, will you e-mail me your address off-list, I will then forward it to Julie who will sign the book and send it out to you.
Thanks again everyone who entered! Preciate it.
PS--English Trifle shipped to stores on FRIDAY--almost 2 weeks early! My Opening Night Party will be on July 30th at Reflections of Utah Bookstore at 47 S. Main in Brigham City 5:00-6:30. More info to follow.
Yesterday was my 'Throw Rocks at the World Day" I have them about once a month. Sometimes it comes on a day when I am too busy to notice and so I manage to brush it off until it slithers back into the moldy undergrowth where it came from. Other days, like yesterday, it's claws dig into my flesh as it crawls up my back and cackles in my ear. All.....day.....long.
Nothing went horribly wrong, but nothing went right either. Everything and everyone annoyed me and the only thing I wanted was silence. Which is impossible. Therefore I was just irritated all day. Lee finally asked me if I was mad at him (after asking me six times what was wrong and me saying "NOTHING, OKAY!") and I said no, not really, I was just . . . mad about everything. Then I listed everything that had me annoyed--to which I believe he was thinking "Why did I ask?"
Today, I felt better--especially when I realized I had 38 followers--almost double what I had when I started the contest last week :-) So thank you, to everyone that posted reviews and followed me and helped me get over myself.
So, on that note, I put all the names (multiplied by how many times you entered) into www.random.org and ran the list 4 times because I have four angelic children, even when I don't like them. The poor dears--to be vexed with such a mother as I, sigh.
I had 53 entries! That totally rocks, so thank you everyone.
Anyway, so ran the lists and the winner is . . .
Jenna! Which is particularly fitting because she's the kind of mom I wish I were, especially on days like yesturday. If you don't read her blog at www.cranberrycorner.blogspot.com, you should. You're life will be enriched by her perspectives on life and family.
Jenna, will you e-mail me your address off-list, I will then forward it to Julie who will sign the book and send it out to you.
Thanks again everyone who entered! Preciate it.
PS--English Trifle shipped to stores on FRIDAY--almost 2 weeks early! My Opening Night Party will be on July 30th at Reflections of Utah Bookstore at 47 S. Main in Brigham City 5:00-6:30. More info to follow.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
CONTEST!
I mentioned in my last post about the amazing people I have met during my writing journey--one of those people is the phenomenal Julie Wright who has enriched and blessed my life in ways too numerous to count. I am continually impressed with her optimism, compassion, work ethic, and just the plain ol' joy she finds in life. I have watched her work so hard for so many years and create amazing stories that blow my mind--one of which has JUST been released by Covenant Communications. AND, because she's awesome and because I love you guys, you get the chance to win a copy of her book, Eyes Like Mine.
I had the chance to do some editing on this book in the early stages of it's development, and it is AWESOME. I don't do many book giveaways on my blog, so that in and of itself ought to attest to how highly I think of this book. While it's categorized as YA (most you know how I feel about most YA) it's a GREAT book and worth the read no matter your age!
So, here's how you enter:
1) Become a follower of my blog and leave me a comment to tell me so. If you're already a follower, just put it in the comment trail and you're entered automatically.
2) Leave an online review for one of my books. Links to my books on DB's website can be found via my website www.josikilpack.com--just go to the book you want to leave a review for and click on the 'buy the book' icon. Once you've left the review, either e-mail me or leave a comment here on my blog so that you get entered into the contest.
You get an entry for becoming a follower as well as an additional entry for every review you leave (copy and paste the same review into multiple review websites--I don't mind!). Just be sure to tell me how you've entered.
AND, if you're interested in winning a copy of English Trifle, check out Julie's blog where she's running a similar contest. Double prizes, baby!
Contest will end on Sunday, July 12. I'll post the winner on Monday!
Monday, July 06, 2009
So, why Write?
From the post I put up here last week, one might think that my writing is sometimes like cooked spinach on my plate--why on earth would you eat that? Ever since that post (and thank you all for being so dang understanding :-) I've been thinking about the other side.
If it's SO much work and SO hard to do, why DO it at all? Here's why.
I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father that loves me, and one way that he has shown his love for me was to send me to earth with a wide array of little packages that through my life I get to open. One of those packages was presented to me about ten years ago in the form of bedrest, Lifetime Television for Women and Anita Stanfield. I was on bedrest with a pregnancy, I was battling depression induced by this circumstance and I was bored out of my mind. The next three months looked like a very long and dark road for me. But there was another road that worried me even more. As I'd grown up and had children I had been a bit worried to realize that I didn't feel 'filled up' the way I thought I would. It's not my kid's fault or my husband's fault, in fact I think most, if not all, mothers of young children feel this way at times. There is so much that needs doing, and we feel so incapable of being the one to do it all. I read a lot at that time--it was my escape and I cherished the opportunity to travel the world and live different lives for a few hours here and there. I think most, if not all, mothers of young children find similar escapes. If it's not reading, it might be sewing, if it's not sewing, it might be geneology, or crafts, or home decor, or welding. We need the reminder that we are someone. We are an idividual and while raising my kids would hands down be the most rewarding and important job I'd ever had--I was not sent to this earth JUST for them. THEIR plan was not MY plan. I still had to find a way to be me, and to enjoy who I was.
When I started writing in October of 1998 I unwrapped a gift that had lurked beneath the surface--sometimes way beneath the surface--for a long time. I started a journey I never imagined I would ever make and my life blossomed. Despite the hard parts of it, I was opened up to a whole world of possibilities I'd never even realized were there. And through my journey I have continue to unwrap many, many gifts I'd have never realized if I hadn't opened that first one. Here are a few:
1) Friendships. I have met some of the MOST amazing people through my writing. Between fans and fellow authors, I have been blessed with wonderful friendships with people that love and support me. This is something I didn't expect as an adult and, without my writing, I'm not sure I'd have ever realized it was possible to have such great friends, to have girls-nights out, and conference weekends where we stay up until 2:00 a.m. And my life would not be the same without these people in it. My writing invited many of these freinds into my life, without it, we'd have never met.
2)Assurance of my Father in Heaven's love. I know without a doubt that my writing is a gift from God because I could never have done it myself. I did not set out on this path, I found it and I believe it was God's will that I did so. When I struggle or succeed I feel the prodding of something bigger and much smarter than myself. I have written scenes that a wriggling-squirmy feeling has told me to delete. I have also had ideas fully land in my brain that ended up being powerful realizations--not only of the story I'm writing, but of the life I'm living. Second only to holding my newborn children in my arms and looking into the eyes of my husband, I know that writing was something I was sent here to do. That's a powerful knowledge to have in my heart and one I am so grateful for.
3) Example to others. This last winter a Friend came to me and shared an award she'd received at work--she said she pecifically told me about it because she knew I wouldn't be jealous and I would fully celebrate it with her. I knew success and I knew the joy of a job well done, therefore I could appreciate it in someone else. This was one of the best compliments I've ever received, and yet other people tell me how they started a book after reading mine, or felt better about taking time to pursue their hobbies after I told them how I try to make it all fit in. I LOVE that. It is inspiring to me to see other people doing those things, and to be one of those people for someone else? Wow. We really are all part of one big whole, each of us feeding off of and giving to one another. The more we develop ourselves the more we have to offer. It is a sense of purpose that is both exciting and humbling to be part of that for other people.
4) Example to my children. While they make sacrifices for my dreams, they also benefit from it. Because they see me working at something, they are not afraid to pursue their own talents and interests. I work hard to support them like they support me and it allows them a base of confidence when they start something new. Each of them have gone through an "I have to be a writer" phase because that's what they see, but they've all realized that just because writing is my thing, doesn't mean it will be theirs. But whatever THEIR thing is, they know that it will take work and energy and that I will cheer them to the very end. They have enjoyed every triumph with me and that has created bonding moments for all of us that will never be forgotten. I think my girls will be great mom's one day because they won't EXPECT their children to fill every nook and cranny of their head. They will feel okay with being who they are, and yet still fulfilling the roles they take on.
5) Public Speaking. When I was about 14 I went to a fireside and this lady talked about . . . something I don't remember, but she made us laugh. And I felt the spirit at the end of her talk and I had this thought "I want to do that someday" which I was immediately embarrassed about. Who was I to think I could stand in front of a group of people and tell them something important? As I grew up this thought would enter my head, and it always embarrassed me. It was so far out of my sphere and ability it was ridiculous. Well, low and behold, I do that. I'm not great and I get queasy when I stand up in front of a room--but I do it and I love it! I'm improving all the time and I like to think that one day I really will give to people what that woman gave to me. I always look over the audience and wonder if there's someone down there embarrassed by the thoughts that they might want to do that too. (See #3)
6) Faith. Faith is something that has never come easy for me, but as I look back on my journey of a writer I know that there is a plan for me, and that there are details that have lined up perfectly for me to arrive where I am. This allows me to look forward and have much more faith in where the journey might take me. I trust that God is out for my best interest--even when I rage at Him (which he always forgives me for). There is no remedy for panic except faith and I'm learning that more and more all the time. My writing has made the gospel much more real for me. I've delved into feelings and attitudes that are not my own, and yet which help me relate to other people better than I did before. I've learned so much about God through my playing 'God' with my characters and going through their trials of faith.
7) Being a partner. Because I am well aware of the sacrifices made by my husband on behalf of my writing, I am always looking for ways to pay him back. I do not have problems with my husband going out of town, or spending time with Friends. It would be hypocritical for me to call him on those things when he sacrifices so much for my interests. Because I know how important 'my stuff' is to me, I try to look for 'his stuff' that needs my support as well. I know many women in a constant tug-of-war with their husbands for time, attention, and equal responsibility. I can honestly say this isn't an issue in our house (well, most of the time :-) I still have my moments). I look for ways to support him so that when I'm on a deadline or am scheduling a weekend away, I don't have to justify it.
I truly believe we were all sent here with gifts. If we choose to open them and embrace them, we will have to find time for them, but they will bless our lives in many ways when we take the time and the effort to do so. Life is not easy, and sometimes our greatest blessings are also our greatest trials, and yet they are BLESSINGS all the same.
I am SO grateful for the amazing support that's been given to me on my journey and I sincerely hope I have the opportunity to return it in full measure to those around me. We ALL have these gifts, and they will help us fulfill our measure of creation--something all of us have. Writing has done that for me, and I will ever be grateful for it.
If it's SO much work and SO hard to do, why DO it at all? Here's why.
I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father that loves me, and one way that he has shown his love for me was to send me to earth with a wide array of little packages that through my life I get to open. One of those packages was presented to me about ten years ago in the form of bedrest, Lifetime Television for Women and Anita Stanfield. I was on bedrest with a pregnancy, I was battling depression induced by this circumstance and I was bored out of my mind. The next three months looked like a very long and dark road for me. But there was another road that worried me even more. As I'd grown up and had children I had been a bit worried to realize that I didn't feel 'filled up' the way I thought I would. It's not my kid's fault or my husband's fault, in fact I think most, if not all, mothers of young children feel this way at times. There is so much that needs doing, and we feel so incapable of being the one to do it all. I read a lot at that time--it was my escape and I cherished the opportunity to travel the world and live different lives for a few hours here and there. I think most, if not all, mothers of young children find similar escapes. If it's not reading, it might be sewing, if it's not sewing, it might be geneology, or crafts, or home decor, or welding. We need the reminder that we are someone. We are an idividual and while raising my kids would hands down be the most rewarding and important job I'd ever had--I was not sent to this earth JUST for them. THEIR plan was not MY plan. I still had to find a way to be me, and to enjoy who I was.
When I started writing in October of 1998 I unwrapped a gift that had lurked beneath the surface--sometimes way beneath the surface--for a long time. I started a journey I never imagined I would ever make and my life blossomed. Despite the hard parts of it, I was opened up to a whole world of possibilities I'd never even realized were there. And through my journey I have continue to unwrap many, many gifts I'd have never realized if I hadn't opened that first one. Here are a few:
1) Friendships. I have met some of the MOST amazing people through my writing. Between fans and fellow authors, I have been blessed with wonderful friendships with people that love and support me. This is something I didn't expect as an adult and, without my writing, I'm not sure I'd have ever realized it was possible to have such great friends, to have girls-nights out, and conference weekends where we stay up until 2:00 a.m. And my life would not be the same without these people in it. My writing invited many of these freinds into my life, without it, we'd have never met.
2)Assurance of my Father in Heaven's love. I know without a doubt that my writing is a gift from God because I could never have done it myself. I did not set out on this path, I found it and I believe it was God's will that I did so. When I struggle or succeed I feel the prodding of something bigger and much smarter than myself. I have written scenes that a wriggling-squirmy feeling has told me to delete. I have also had ideas fully land in my brain that ended up being powerful realizations--not only of the story I'm writing, but of the life I'm living. Second only to holding my newborn children in my arms and looking into the eyes of my husband, I know that writing was something I was sent here to do. That's a powerful knowledge to have in my heart and one I am so grateful for.
3) Example to others. This last winter a Friend came to me and shared an award she'd received at work--she said she pecifically told me about it because she knew I wouldn't be jealous and I would fully celebrate it with her. I knew success and I knew the joy of a job well done, therefore I could appreciate it in someone else. This was one of the best compliments I've ever received, and yet other people tell me how they started a book after reading mine, or felt better about taking time to pursue their hobbies after I told them how I try to make it all fit in. I LOVE that. It is inspiring to me to see other people doing those things, and to be one of those people for someone else? Wow. We really are all part of one big whole, each of us feeding off of and giving to one another. The more we develop ourselves the more we have to offer. It is a sense of purpose that is both exciting and humbling to be part of that for other people.
4) Example to my children. While they make sacrifices for my dreams, they also benefit from it. Because they see me working at something, they are not afraid to pursue their own talents and interests. I work hard to support them like they support me and it allows them a base of confidence when they start something new. Each of them have gone through an "I have to be a writer" phase because that's what they see, but they've all realized that just because writing is my thing, doesn't mean it will be theirs. But whatever THEIR thing is, they know that it will take work and energy and that I will cheer them to the very end. They have enjoyed every triumph with me and that has created bonding moments for all of us that will never be forgotten. I think my girls will be great mom's one day because they won't EXPECT their children to fill every nook and cranny of their head. They will feel okay with being who they are, and yet still fulfilling the roles they take on.
5) Public Speaking. When I was about 14 I went to a fireside and this lady talked about . . . something I don't remember, but she made us laugh. And I felt the spirit at the end of her talk and I had this thought "I want to do that someday" which I was immediately embarrassed about. Who was I to think I could stand in front of a group of people and tell them something important? As I grew up this thought would enter my head, and it always embarrassed me. It was so far out of my sphere and ability it was ridiculous. Well, low and behold, I do that. I'm not great and I get queasy when I stand up in front of a room--but I do it and I love it! I'm improving all the time and I like to think that one day I really will give to people what that woman gave to me. I always look over the audience and wonder if there's someone down there embarrassed by the thoughts that they might want to do that too. (See #3)
6) Faith. Faith is something that has never come easy for me, but as I look back on my journey of a writer I know that there is a plan for me, and that there are details that have lined up perfectly for me to arrive where I am. This allows me to look forward and have much more faith in where the journey might take me. I trust that God is out for my best interest--even when I rage at Him (which he always forgives me for). There is no remedy for panic except faith and I'm learning that more and more all the time. My writing has made the gospel much more real for me. I've delved into feelings and attitudes that are not my own, and yet which help me relate to other people better than I did before. I've learned so much about God through my playing 'God' with my characters and going through their trials of faith.
7) Being a partner. Because I am well aware of the sacrifices made by my husband on behalf of my writing, I am always looking for ways to pay him back. I do not have problems with my husband going out of town, or spending time with Friends. It would be hypocritical for me to call him on those things when he sacrifices so much for my interests. Because I know how important 'my stuff' is to me, I try to look for 'his stuff' that needs my support as well. I know many women in a constant tug-of-war with their husbands for time, attention, and equal responsibility. I can honestly say this isn't an issue in our house (well, most of the time :-) I still have my moments). I look for ways to support him so that when I'm on a deadline or am scheduling a weekend away, I don't have to justify it.
I truly believe we were all sent here with gifts. If we choose to open them and embrace them, we will have to find time for them, but they will bless our lives in many ways when we take the time and the effort to do so. Life is not easy, and sometimes our greatest blessings are also our greatest trials, and yet they are BLESSINGS all the same.
I am SO grateful for the amazing support that's been given to me on my journey and I sincerely hope I have the opportunity to return it in full measure to those around me. We ALL have these gifts, and they will help us fulfill our measure of creation--something all of us have. Writing has done that for me, and I will ever be grateful for it.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Will being an author cut Into time with my children?
I was recently asked by a fellow writer not yet published if a writing career was going to cut into her time with her children and family. She was very concerned with the effect her 'career' could have on her kids. She wanted reassurance. I'm not sure I gave it to her, but she caught me in a moment of painful honesty and that was with what I answered her. I thought I would include it here, not to discourage anyone, but simply to put into focus that while we all have our own 'plan' there are sacrifices to be made for all things we bring into our life and no one, NO ONE, gets out of that. I edited this a little bit for space and for relativity. If Writing isn't your thing, insert something else that fills your mind and heart, something you long for and yet fear at the same time. We all have them:
Yes. Writing will cut into your time with your children. It will cut into your time with your husband. It will cut into your housekeeping, gardening, exercise, reading, church callings, community responsibilities, family vacations, and at times your personal hygiene. Everything we do that is not right there next to our family takes us away from them. Sometimes it hurts. I have had times when I am blinking back tears as I drive to a presentation because I know my home and family are ‘undone’ yet I’ve made a commitment to whoever I’m presenting too and I can’t simply NOT do it. I’ve had times when my husband has told me I’m overdoing it and my focus is not where it needs to be. We have argued about it. My kids have said things like "You're always on the computer!" or "I don't want you to leave again?"
Sometimes I wish I’d never started because then I would have one less thing to worry about, one less piece to cut myself into. But when these moments come I remember that I was missing something before I started writing. I AM happier now than I was then, but simply being happy doesn't take the hardship away.
I have always been ambitious and busy and when I discovered writing all of that energy went into something that felt marvelous—sharing my thoughts within framework of characters and plots I grew to love was just . . . right. At the time it was so much fun that it was easy to fit in and enjoy every moment. It was a hobby. It isn't anymore. Since then it’s grown into a BIG thing in my life and it takes up a lot of room in my head, on my calendar, on my hard drive and in my house. I’ve chosen to make a place for it and I try to make wise decisions about how much space it can have, but it is there, it is always there. I’ve missed plays my kids are in, classroom parties, sporting events, and other significant moments because of obligations tied to my writing. I hate that, and yet writing is part of my reason for being here, I know it is. My kids are part of why I’m here as well, I know that too. They aren’t going to be in my home forever and writing might not be a part of my life forever either—there is no way to know what will happen next year or five years from now and so I try to do my best and enjoy both phases of my life as best I can. Right now I find myself at the top of my game, my books are doing better than ever and it thrills me to the core, but it also demands more of me and creates more stress in my life and that of my family. To stop now would be to lose what I've worked so hard for, and it's not an option. So I keep going, and I keep asking the Lord for help in finding balance, and I keep working on my mothering so that I don’t feel so guilty when I’m not physically present, and I schedule my presentations, and read writing books, and I brainstorm and edit and live in fear of the day when this might all be over. And I write.
Every day is a balance—sometimes my family is on the losing end of it. Sometimes my church calling is, or my husband, or my own peace of mind. But I love writing. I need it. And so I sacrifice for it with my eyes wide open, always looking at the scales to see if I’m off base, always watching for empty hours I can fill with words, and always praying that the Lord will let me know when I need to pull back.
He usually does, but that hurts too.
I can’t promise that adding a writing career won’t upset the balance in your home so much that you bleed. I also can’t promise that you will set such an example to your children that their lives will be forever blessed BECAUSE of your writing, not in spite of it. Every writer I know has to find the balance, has to make the choice to move forward, and then they have to commit to all of it—family, church, writing, and themselves. If you’re not ready, don’t do it. It is hard. If you’re ready, take a deep breath, get on your knees and pray for courage, faith and that you can keep your priorities straight.
Only you can decide if you're up to this, only you can add something this big to your life and find the balance. No one can do it for you, and no one should. Your life is your own journey, and no one carries your pack for you. Decide what you can carry, and then commit to do your best. I wish you luck.
Yes. Writing will cut into your time with your children. It will cut into your time with your husband. It will cut into your housekeeping, gardening, exercise, reading, church callings, community responsibilities, family vacations, and at times your personal hygiene. Everything we do that is not right there next to our family takes us away from them. Sometimes it hurts. I have had times when I am blinking back tears as I drive to a presentation because I know my home and family are ‘undone’ yet I’ve made a commitment to whoever I’m presenting too and I can’t simply NOT do it. I’ve had times when my husband has told me I’m overdoing it and my focus is not where it needs to be. We have argued about it. My kids have said things like "You're always on the computer!" or "I don't want you to leave again?"
Sometimes I wish I’d never started because then I would have one less thing to worry about, one less piece to cut myself into. But when these moments come I remember that I was missing something before I started writing. I AM happier now than I was then, but simply being happy doesn't take the hardship away.
I have always been ambitious and busy and when I discovered writing all of that energy went into something that felt marvelous—sharing my thoughts within framework of characters and plots I grew to love was just . . . right. At the time it was so much fun that it was easy to fit in and enjoy every moment. It was a hobby. It isn't anymore. Since then it’s grown into a BIG thing in my life and it takes up a lot of room in my head, on my calendar, on my hard drive and in my house. I’ve chosen to make a place for it and I try to make wise decisions about how much space it can have, but it is there, it is always there. I’ve missed plays my kids are in, classroom parties, sporting events, and other significant moments because of obligations tied to my writing. I hate that, and yet writing is part of my reason for being here, I know it is. My kids are part of why I’m here as well, I know that too. They aren’t going to be in my home forever and writing might not be a part of my life forever either—there is no way to know what will happen next year or five years from now and so I try to do my best and enjoy both phases of my life as best I can. Right now I find myself at the top of my game, my books are doing better than ever and it thrills me to the core, but it also demands more of me and creates more stress in my life and that of my family. To stop now would be to lose what I've worked so hard for, and it's not an option. So I keep going, and I keep asking the Lord for help in finding balance, and I keep working on my mothering so that I don’t feel so guilty when I’m not physically present, and I schedule my presentations, and read writing books, and I brainstorm and edit and live in fear of the day when this might all be over. And I write.
Every day is a balance—sometimes my family is on the losing end of it. Sometimes my church calling is, or my husband, or my own peace of mind. But I love writing. I need it. And so I sacrifice for it with my eyes wide open, always looking at the scales to see if I’m off base, always watching for empty hours I can fill with words, and always praying that the Lord will let me know when I need to pull back.
He usually does, but that hurts too.
I can’t promise that adding a writing career won’t upset the balance in your home so much that you bleed. I also can’t promise that you will set such an example to your children that their lives will be forever blessed BECAUSE of your writing, not in spite of it. Every writer I know has to find the balance, has to make the choice to move forward, and then they have to commit to all of it—family, church, writing, and themselves. If you’re not ready, don’t do it. It is hard. If you’re ready, take a deep breath, get on your knees and pray for courage, faith and that you can keep your priorities straight.
Only you can decide if you're up to this, only you can add something this big to your life and find the balance. No one can do it for you, and no one should. Your life is your own journey, and no one carries your pack for you. Decide what you can carry, and then commit to do your best. I wish you luck.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
So . . . um . . . yeah
I was once told there are two kinds of women in the world--one that sees their hair as an accessory; a mode of expression that can be done and undone and redone at any time. These women often change their color, length and style on a regular basis. They see every change as temporary. Often, they act somewhat impulsively and follow current trends.
The other kind of woman sees her hair as an extension of herself, something connected and ingrained as a part of her. The kind of woman often keeps one basic style for long periods of time. She might make changes, but they typically enhance her current style rather than create a new one. She will usually contemplate changes for a long time before proceeding and has a high dissatisfaction rating because, even when she makes a change, she often pines for the security of past styles and wonders things like "What the hell was I thinking?" When people tell her they like it, she assumes they are lying--if they tell her they don't like it, she cries. And even if there are things she DOES like about it, her insecurity about the drastic decision she's made is very hard for her to overcome, which then makes her feel like a vain prima-donna. She looks forward to next week when she's gotten used to it and swears she will never cut her hair again.
Take a guess which one I am?
The other kind of woman sees her hair as an extension of herself, something connected and ingrained as a part of her. The kind of woman often keeps one basic style for long periods of time. She might make changes, but they typically enhance her current style rather than create a new one. She will usually contemplate changes for a long time before proceeding and has a high dissatisfaction rating because, even when she makes a change, she often pines for the security of past styles and wonders things like "What the hell was I thinking?" When people tell her they like it, she assumes they are lying--if they tell her they don't like it, she cries. And even if there are things she DOES like about it, her insecurity about the drastic decision she's made is very hard for her to overcome, which then makes her feel like a vain prima-donna. She looks forward to next week when she's gotten used to it and swears she will never cut her hair again.
Take a guess which one I am?
Monday, June 22, 2009
CUT!
I posted an update to my status on facebook that I'd managed to farm out three of my four children (and the one that stayed home is pretty danged independent) and so I had 3 days to write and clean. My super-cool facebook friends all told me forget the cleaning and go write!
But I didn't want to write, and you wanna know why?
Cause I just cut 12,349 words! That's why.
Seeing as how I'm an accountant these days I thought I'd run the numbers--35.4% of what I had written to date is now in my cuts folder. That leaves me with 22, 543 which is only 25% of my goal of 90,000 words.
See, the heartache comes from the fact that I knew what I'd written wasn't really working, which is one reason why I'd been avoiding the writing. But when I'm down 3 kids and a husband, and before the husband leaves I ask that husband for a blessing so I can use my time well; I have to write. And unfortunately for me, HAVING to write, means I HAD to cut. And it hurts, damnit.
I was supposed to have this book done by August 1st. It's very hard to adjust that deadline in my mind without feeling as though I'm failing my publisher and my readers and myself. But it was my own deadline and, ironically, I know that not cutting it means I can't move forward, because I try too hard to make what doesn't work, work and that is almost equally discouraging. Ya know?
Kinda like yesturday. The kids are gone, and I know it's the Sabbath and all, but I started to clean my daughter's room. I really only wanted to confirmation that yes, the closet was still there. Within 2 hours I had 2 full size garbage sacks (full of polly pocket clothes and barbie shoes I feel no guilt over discarding) in my garbage can, a bag of clothes for her cousin and 2 boxes and 2 bags of stuff for DI. She has a month to remember specific items in the DI stuff that I will then return to her, but after a month, if she can't remember it, it's gone. It was extreme, yes, and I should have waited until today, but it was also impossible for me to clean without CUTTING. Otherwise the room would never have been clean--there was too much stuff.
And cutting the 12,349 had to be done as well. I know it did, but it's still hard to see my page count dwindle.
I'm getting my hair cut on Thursday. It's time. I love it long, but then there are times I just don't. My ends are thin, it sticks to me when I'm working outside and I just need a little style--so I'm going under the knife. It won't be fun, and I might just cry, and yet I know it's a good thing and feel a glimmer of excitement at the idea of change!
I need to feel that same glimmer of excitement about cutting my story--because I cut it, that means I can have a healthier head of words, right? And it means that I won't have junk spilling through the doorway, right? And this sick feeling in my stomach will go away, right?
Oh, I really, really hope so.
But I didn't want to write, and you wanna know why?
Cause I just cut 12,349 words! That's why.
Seeing as how I'm an accountant these days I thought I'd run the numbers--35.4% of what I had written to date is now in my cuts folder. That leaves me with 22, 543 which is only 25% of my goal of 90,000 words.
See, the heartache comes from the fact that I knew what I'd written wasn't really working, which is one reason why I'd been avoiding the writing. But when I'm down 3 kids and a husband, and before the husband leaves I ask that husband for a blessing so I can use my time well; I have to write. And unfortunately for me, HAVING to write, means I HAD to cut. And it hurts, damnit.
I was supposed to have this book done by August 1st. It's very hard to adjust that deadline in my mind without feeling as though I'm failing my publisher and my readers and myself. But it was my own deadline and, ironically, I know that not cutting it means I can't move forward, because I try too hard to make what doesn't work, work and that is almost equally discouraging. Ya know?
Kinda like yesturday. The kids are gone, and I know it's the Sabbath and all, but I started to clean my daughter's room. I really only wanted to confirmation that yes, the closet was still there. Within 2 hours I had 2 full size garbage sacks (full of polly pocket clothes and barbie shoes I feel no guilt over discarding) in my garbage can, a bag of clothes for her cousin and 2 boxes and 2 bags of stuff for DI. She has a month to remember specific items in the DI stuff that I will then return to her, but after a month, if she can't remember it, it's gone. It was extreme, yes, and I should have waited until today, but it was also impossible for me to clean without CUTTING. Otherwise the room would never have been clean--there was too much stuff.
And cutting the 12,349 had to be done as well. I know it did, but it's still hard to see my page count dwindle.
I'm getting my hair cut on Thursday. It's time. I love it long, but then there are times I just don't. My ends are thin, it sticks to me when I'm working outside and I just need a little style--so I'm going under the knife. It won't be fun, and I might just cry, and yet I know it's a good thing and feel a glimmer of excitement at the idea of change!
I need to feel that same glimmer of excitement about cutting my story--because I cut it, that means I can have a healthier head of words, right? And it means that I won't have junk spilling through the doorway, right? And this sick feeling in my stomach will go away, right?
Oh, I really, really hope so.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
To Pee or Not to Pee
I am the worst potty-trainer in the world. It’s true. I no longer deny it and in some ways I embrace it. I must have been on a chocolate hunt the day they gave out the patience and skill for this important part of motherhood, ‘cause it missed me completely.
I was raised in a home where cloth diapers were the norm. There were nine kids, I was the third, so there were six cloth-diapered bottoms behind me. Potty training was an event much celebrated by all of us. There was no motivation like a week’s worth of soiled diapers needing to be rinsed before going into the washer. And perhaps my disparaging failure would have been avoided if I too had used cloth—perhaps the mess and smell would have given me the commitment my mother had. But I was a modern woman. ‘Pampers’ was one of my favorite words.
Now don’t get me wrong. I, like most young mothers, got caught up in the rapture of diaper-less-baby-bums and expected success like anyone else. When my first child was a year and a half, I made my first attempt. All the other kids in the play group were potty-trained, so I was feeling the peer pressure to keep up. The mothers of these pantied-children posed and bragged until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I found a book called How to Potty Train in One Day. The plan was elaborate, but I pressed on. It required all kinds of charts and graphs to track progress. But it seemed very scientific and I was impressed. I bought special training pants, salty chips, and lots of fun drinks to increase the urge. And of course we had to have the dolly that wets. My husband questioned me, first about the week preparation I put into this, and then about the increasing costs, but I convinced him that it would all pay off in the end. He smiled and dropped it like any good husband should.
The big day arrived and we had scrambled eggs for breakfast, with salt and a big glass of apple juice. This was followed by potty reminders every ten minutes, salty pretzels and more drinks. Half an hour after breakfast, she wet her pants. I had known we would have a couple setbacks and was not deterred. We tried again. Half an hour later she wet her pants again. Part of the program is making a list of people that will be so proud of my little girl. So I discussed how proud her daddy would be, Grandma, Mr. Bills across the street, Mr. Bills’ dog, and of course, Barney. She didn’t seem to care at all, but I kept pushing the Pringles and juice boxes.
By one o’clock she’d cleaned me out of snacks and juice boxes with seven accidents to show for it. I’d followed the graphs, I’d gone over her “Proud People” chart and she wasn’t getting it. I called my husband in frustration. He said she might be too young, that maybe she wasn’t ready.
What did he know?
We kept trying. By three o’clock she was in wet pants crying in the corner, again. I was on the phone to my husband, crying about what a horrible mother I was. We stopped for the day. I daren’t tell the other play group moms about my failure. I simply smiled when the subject came up and acted like I knew exactly what I was doing. I like to think they thought I’d found some secret knowledge about potty-training that gave me no reason to worry.
Six months later I tried the exact same thing again, with the exact result, except that I didn’t cry to my husband until he came home. I had failed. I was also seven months’ pregnant. This had been my last chance to have an entire month of no diapers for the next few years and I had blown it.
Two years later, I’m the mother of two girls. My oldest was now four and still in diapers. One day she brought me a pair of those ill-fated training pants I’d bought years earlier and asked if she could wear them. I cringed, but said she could. That afternoon she had an accident—I felt sure we were doomed and told her we needed to go back to diapers. She insisted on wearing another pair and promised she wouldn’t wet them. I wavered, but finally gave in. She never wet her pants again, but she was four years old and had done it herself, so there was no pride in my achievement.
No less than two months later, I began regarding my second daughter with new eyes. This little girl was two and had the verbal skills of her older sister, with more comprehension. We had complete conversations on a regular basis. It was weird, but I knew in my heart that this child was a prodigy. I was still suffering from my failures with child one and in child two I saw redemption. If I could have her potty trained at twenty-two months, surely that could prove that I was not completely worthless.
I sat my little girl down and we had a very deep discussion about going potty in the toilet. We talked about how much cleaner it was to use the toilet and how yucky diapers were. She was mesmerized by this information and promised me right then and there that she would never use a diaper again. I gloated to my husband about it—for about three hours.
Although she took to heart every word I said, she was very petite. Most people thought she was almost a year younger than she really was until she opened her mouth. She was so small that she couldn’t get on the toilet herself and she refused to use the child potty, which she had deemed only for babies. When she had those first few accidents, she howled as if she’d just inadvertently killed a small animal. She was so disappointed in herself. So she started to hold it. And hold it and hold it and hold it. She would hold it even if I put her on the potty and begged her to go. She would hold it until she began shrieking in pain, then, unable to run to the bathroom with her legs so tightly pressed together, I had to run to her and try and get her to the toilet in time. If I didn’t get her there, she bawled for the next half an hour.
After a week of this, I knew it couldn’t be good for her emotional development to have this kind of trauma, and explained that maybe we should just go back to diapers. She refused. I had convinced her they were dirty, I had told her only babies wore them, and she’d believed me. She wouldn’t even wear Pull-Ups because she knew they were really just diapers trying to look like panties.
For the next year (yes, really) I had to grab her when she reached the shrieking stage and run her to the bathroom. I tried everything to get her to stop holding it. I put her on the toilet hourly, I got a step-stool—and nothing worked. I had created this trauma for her and we went through it four times a day. She was expert at holding it through the night, but on the rare occasion when she drank too much too close to bedtime, I was running down the hall in my underwear, knowing that if I didn’t get to her in time I would have a hysterical child on my hands. She could work herself up to such a pitch that she sometimes threw up—then I had pee and vomit to clean up at one o’clock in the morning. It was honestly the longest year of my life.
At three and a half, she finally went one whole week without the shrieking. I know how old she was ‘cause I wrote it in my journal. She’d stopped holding it quite so much and we all breathed a sigh of relief. By the time she was four, she was doing pretty well. But my potty-training-trauma was not over. I’d had another baby during this year of jump and run—a boy. And we all know what that means.
From the day of the tell-all sonogram, I’d heard how hard boys were to potty-train. I couldn’t imagine it being worse than my girls and I dreaded it. At two and a half, he looked four and people started asking THE question. I hadn’t even considered starting the melee and blew off the judgments of everyone around me. Because he was so big, his diapers, and what went into them, were…well, big. They were awful, in fact, but I wasn’t really tempted. When he was three and a half, I decided to give it a shot and put him in training pants for a day. He had an accident and it was all I needed to convince myself that he wasn’t ready. At four, he started wanting Batman underpants like his friends, and I wanted preschool. So we gave it another try. He did okay for a few hours, enough to send him to preschool. But within minutes of getting home, he’d have an accident and I’d diaper him. Nighttime wasn’t even a question. Pull-Ups—no questions asked. His birthday was in December, so he turned five a good nine months before kindergarten. At this point he was in big-boy-pants all day and averaged an accident every other day. I can’t tell you when he started going all day without and accident because I have a mental block about it, but it was sometime during the summer before Kindergarten. He turned six a couple months ago and he remained in Pull-Ups at night until he was eight. I really didn’t care if he was in Pull-Ups forever—have you seen how many sizes they come in these days?
And so I’m left with one last child. Some would say that after my wealth of experience I should know just what to do and what not to do. Whatever. I have only one philosophy left and that is not to even consider potty-training until she begs me for it. Her cousin of the same age was potty-trained at two. I call that abusive—and why not? There is nothing wrong with babies having extra padding to protect their little bottoms when puddle jumping or going down the slide. There is no shame in keeping a diaper in your purse or taking extra precautions at the community pool. You can hardly see them in her dance outfit and let’s face it, at least I know her bum is clean at least three time a day. Now and then she asks me, but I tell her she’s not ready. Not until she begs me on her hands and knees will I even consider scratching diapers off my grocery list. Not until she can count to twenty and knows her grandparents’ first names. It’s just not going to happen. Quite frankly, I just don’t have it in me.
It’s her body, and to pee or not to pee is a question only she can answer. When she’s ready, and she wants it—I mean really wants it, I have faith that it will happen. But I will not decide this for her. Not this time, not again.
*I wrote this a few years ago, so as an update--KB potty-trained at 3 1/2 much like her oldest sister--I put Dora underpants in her drawer and threw them away if she wet them, which she found devastating enough that by the time we'd worked through four of the six-pack of panties, she had it all figured out. Even at night--Go me!
I was raised in a home where cloth diapers were the norm. There were nine kids, I was the third, so there were six cloth-diapered bottoms behind me. Potty training was an event much celebrated by all of us. There was no motivation like a week’s worth of soiled diapers needing to be rinsed before going into the washer. And perhaps my disparaging failure would have been avoided if I too had used cloth—perhaps the mess and smell would have given me the commitment my mother had. But I was a modern woman. ‘Pampers’ was one of my favorite words.
Now don’t get me wrong. I, like most young mothers, got caught up in the rapture of diaper-less-baby-bums and expected success like anyone else. When my first child was a year and a half, I made my first attempt. All the other kids in the play group were potty-trained, so I was feeling the peer pressure to keep up. The mothers of these pantied-children posed and bragged until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I found a book called How to Potty Train in One Day. The plan was elaborate, but I pressed on. It required all kinds of charts and graphs to track progress. But it seemed very scientific and I was impressed. I bought special training pants, salty chips, and lots of fun drinks to increase the urge. And of course we had to have the dolly that wets. My husband questioned me, first about the week preparation I put into this, and then about the increasing costs, but I convinced him that it would all pay off in the end. He smiled and dropped it like any good husband should.
The big day arrived and we had scrambled eggs for breakfast, with salt and a big glass of apple juice. This was followed by potty reminders every ten minutes, salty pretzels and more drinks. Half an hour after breakfast, she wet her pants. I had known we would have a couple setbacks and was not deterred. We tried again. Half an hour later she wet her pants again. Part of the program is making a list of people that will be so proud of my little girl. So I discussed how proud her daddy would be, Grandma, Mr. Bills across the street, Mr. Bills’ dog, and of course, Barney. She didn’t seem to care at all, but I kept pushing the Pringles and juice boxes.
By one o’clock she’d cleaned me out of snacks and juice boxes with seven accidents to show for it. I’d followed the graphs, I’d gone over her “Proud People” chart and she wasn’t getting it. I called my husband in frustration. He said she might be too young, that maybe she wasn’t ready.
What did he know?
We kept trying. By three o’clock she was in wet pants crying in the corner, again. I was on the phone to my husband, crying about what a horrible mother I was. We stopped for the day. I daren’t tell the other play group moms about my failure. I simply smiled when the subject came up and acted like I knew exactly what I was doing. I like to think they thought I’d found some secret knowledge about potty-training that gave me no reason to worry.
Six months later I tried the exact same thing again, with the exact result, except that I didn’t cry to my husband until he came home. I had failed. I was also seven months’ pregnant. This had been my last chance to have an entire month of no diapers for the next few years and I had blown it.
Two years later, I’m the mother of two girls. My oldest was now four and still in diapers. One day she brought me a pair of those ill-fated training pants I’d bought years earlier and asked if she could wear them. I cringed, but said she could. That afternoon she had an accident—I felt sure we were doomed and told her we needed to go back to diapers. She insisted on wearing another pair and promised she wouldn’t wet them. I wavered, but finally gave in. She never wet her pants again, but she was four years old and had done it herself, so there was no pride in my achievement.
No less than two months later, I began regarding my second daughter with new eyes. This little girl was two and had the verbal skills of her older sister, with more comprehension. We had complete conversations on a regular basis. It was weird, but I knew in my heart that this child was a prodigy. I was still suffering from my failures with child one and in child two I saw redemption. If I could have her potty trained at twenty-two months, surely that could prove that I was not completely worthless.
I sat my little girl down and we had a very deep discussion about going potty in the toilet. We talked about how much cleaner it was to use the toilet and how yucky diapers were. She was mesmerized by this information and promised me right then and there that she would never use a diaper again. I gloated to my husband about it—for about three hours.
Although she took to heart every word I said, she was very petite. Most people thought she was almost a year younger than she really was until she opened her mouth. She was so small that she couldn’t get on the toilet herself and she refused to use the child potty, which she had deemed only for babies. When she had those first few accidents, she howled as if she’d just inadvertently killed a small animal. She was so disappointed in herself. So she started to hold it. And hold it and hold it and hold it. She would hold it even if I put her on the potty and begged her to go. She would hold it until she began shrieking in pain, then, unable to run to the bathroom with her legs so tightly pressed together, I had to run to her and try and get her to the toilet in time. If I didn’t get her there, she bawled for the next half an hour.
After a week of this, I knew it couldn’t be good for her emotional development to have this kind of trauma, and explained that maybe we should just go back to diapers. She refused. I had convinced her they were dirty, I had told her only babies wore them, and she’d believed me. She wouldn’t even wear Pull-Ups because she knew they were really just diapers trying to look like panties.
For the next year (yes, really) I had to grab her when she reached the shrieking stage and run her to the bathroom. I tried everything to get her to stop holding it. I put her on the toilet hourly, I got a step-stool—and nothing worked. I had created this trauma for her and we went through it four times a day. She was expert at holding it through the night, but on the rare occasion when she drank too much too close to bedtime, I was running down the hall in my underwear, knowing that if I didn’t get to her in time I would have a hysterical child on my hands. She could work herself up to such a pitch that she sometimes threw up—then I had pee and vomit to clean up at one o’clock in the morning. It was honestly the longest year of my life.
At three and a half, she finally went one whole week without the shrieking. I know how old she was ‘cause I wrote it in my journal. She’d stopped holding it quite so much and we all breathed a sigh of relief. By the time she was four, she was doing pretty well. But my potty-training-trauma was not over. I’d had another baby during this year of jump and run—a boy. And we all know what that means.
From the day of the tell-all sonogram, I’d heard how hard boys were to potty-train. I couldn’t imagine it being worse than my girls and I dreaded it. At two and a half, he looked four and people started asking THE question. I hadn’t even considered starting the melee and blew off the judgments of everyone around me. Because he was so big, his diapers, and what went into them, were…well, big. They were awful, in fact, but I wasn’t really tempted. When he was three and a half, I decided to give it a shot and put him in training pants for a day. He had an accident and it was all I needed to convince myself that he wasn’t ready. At four, he started wanting Batman underpants like his friends, and I wanted preschool. So we gave it another try. He did okay for a few hours, enough to send him to preschool. But within minutes of getting home, he’d have an accident and I’d diaper him. Nighttime wasn’t even a question. Pull-Ups—no questions asked. His birthday was in December, so he turned five a good nine months before kindergarten. At this point he was in big-boy-pants all day and averaged an accident every other day. I can’t tell you when he started going all day without and accident because I have a mental block about it, but it was sometime during the summer before Kindergarten. He turned six a couple months ago and he remained in Pull-Ups at night until he was eight. I really didn’t care if he was in Pull-Ups forever—have you seen how many sizes they come in these days?
And so I’m left with one last child. Some would say that after my wealth of experience I should know just what to do and what not to do. Whatever. I have only one philosophy left and that is not to even consider potty-training until she begs me for it. Her cousin of the same age was potty-trained at two. I call that abusive—and why not? There is nothing wrong with babies having extra padding to protect their little bottoms when puddle jumping or going down the slide. There is no shame in keeping a diaper in your purse or taking extra precautions at the community pool. You can hardly see them in her dance outfit and let’s face it, at least I know her bum is clean at least three time a day. Now and then she asks me, but I tell her she’s not ready. Not until she begs me on her hands and knees will I even consider scratching diapers off my grocery list. Not until she can count to twenty and knows her grandparents’ first names. It’s just not going to happen. Quite frankly, I just don’t have it in me.
It’s her body, and to pee or not to pee is a question only she can answer. When she’s ready, and she wants it—I mean really wants it, I have faith that it will happen. But I will not decide this for her. Not this time, not again.
*I wrote this a few years ago, so as an update--KB potty-trained at 3 1/2 much like her oldest sister--I put Dora underpants in her drawer and threw them away if she wet them, which she found devastating enough that by the time we'd worked through four of the six-pack of panties, she had it all figured out. Even at night--Go me!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Last Call: THE Teen Writers Conference
On June 6th, 2009, myself and some other fabulous authors will be presenting a writer's conference just for teens ages 13-19. The cost is $39 and lunch is included. We are so excited for this opportunity to help set the feet of these young writers on a path that will help them navigate some of the more difficult parts of establishing a career in writing. If you fit the criteria and would like to come, have a child that fits the criteria and would like to come, OR know a youth that fits the criteria and would like to come--please visit the website www.teenwritersconference.com for more information. Registrations must be postmarked by May 25th.
Thanks much,
Friday, May 08, 2009
A Morning with Me, Myself, and I
As some of you know, I went back to work in April--April 1st to be exact. It's been . . . an adjustment after several years of wearing my jammies all day. My current boss frowns on such casual attire, which is a bummer, he's also liable to interrupt my evenings with talk of work and he makes me iron his shirts. The upside is that he sometimes runs kids in the afternoon so that I can finish something up and it's understood that I can yell back if he gets out of hand. I'm also hopeful that the fact we're sleeping together will open up some promotional opportunities in the future. Unfortuantely, everyone knows we're sleeping together and so I can't blackmail him with it. Them's the breaks for working with your husband, I suppose.
Back in January I blogged about my employment qualifications. I specifically mentioned that I had none--other than writing novels which there isn't a huge section for in the Help Wanted section. Apparently that blog post infiltrated the nether-regions of Karma and by February I was feeling the pressure that I needed to be bringing home a paycheck. Why? Because the last year has not been economically kind to the Kilpacks.
Now, we're okay, as in we're not behind on anything and don't anticipate that we will be. Right now, we have our needs met, but the next six months is going to be interesting. In July 2008 we bought a Window covering buisness in Vegas. We spent several weeks doing our due diligience, we felt we had really found a great company--and we did find a great company--however the seller was not honest in his financial reports. Within 90 days we were facing collections on debts we had no idea existed and a month after that we found ourselves embroiled in a lawsuit. Anyone that's been watching the economic crash and burn (who hasn't?) has likely heard that Las Vegas has been hit hard, very hard. After a ten years unprecidented period of growth, construction has all but stopped and jobs have dried up, sending people out of Vegas in droves. Those things do not bode well for a company whose market is made up of people buying new or upgraded window coverings. Lee has jumped in with both feet to keep the buisness going amid all the arrows being slung our way, and he's done an amazing job. While other window covering companies are folding left and right, we've managed to stay afloat. We've lost some key employees, but we've held on to some absolute gems who are putting everything they have into making this work. In January we opened an Ogden, Utah location. We mostly wanted to keep our administration closer to home so that Lee didn't have to spend so much money and time commuting to Vegas, but we also started selling blinds out of that location. We hired a bookeeper and crossed our fingers that things would improve.
Come April, however, we had to look at more ways to cut our overhead. What we needed was someone to work for free, that had a vested interest in the company, and knew how to do basic account. Well, that person didn't exist--but two out of three ain't bad. I can work for free and I very much want the company to do well. The accounting part was the sticking pin, so I took a Quickbooks class and six weeks into the job I kinda almost sorta know what I'm doing. It's really worked out well despite my feeling sorry for myself that I can no longer live in my jammies.
It's been hard to fit this 25 hour a week job into everything else I do. I find I'm running from one thing to the next without much time to take a breath. Today, however, I have a morning to myself, at home, with no one but my dishwasher to keep me company. I have to take a couple kids in for doctor appointments in an hour, which means I won't be going in to work until after the appointment, which means I got to read a couple blogs and take twenty minutes to post something to my own.
Heaven.
It's my hope that within a few more weeks I'll be caught up at 'the office' and that life will settle into a new, though brimming, schedule. It's my hope that within a few more weeks I will now and then get an hour to sit and blog. It's my hope that within a few more weeks I will feel like I'm really making a marked contribution to the company (Did I mention the computer I crashed? The fact that I don't know how to use excel? My propensity to be rather snappy with the boss?) It's my hope that I will find a way to fit writing, exercise, editing, and cooking back into my life at some point.
For now, I'm glad I can do what I can do. I'm glad that working for my husband gives me the flexibility I need to be a mom and a writer as well, and I'm glad to have another thirty minutes of blesses peace and quiet in which to ponder the blessings in my life. I am blessed with work, blessed with ability, blessed with comfort, proseperity, and enough wisdom to see that despite the struggles, we're going to be just fine, one way or another.
So, anyway, if you've wondered where I've been, that's where, and if you're looking for window coverings, I'm hoping to have our new website up in another week or two so stay tuned.
Back in January I blogged about my employment qualifications. I specifically mentioned that I had none--other than writing novels which there isn't a huge section for in the Help Wanted section. Apparently that blog post infiltrated the nether-regions of Karma and by February I was feeling the pressure that I needed to be bringing home a paycheck. Why? Because the last year has not been economically kind to the Kilpacks.
Now, we're okay, as in we're not behind on anything and don't anticipate that we will be. Right now, we have our needs met, but the next six months is going to be interesting. In July 2008 we bought a Window covering buisness in Vegas. We spent several weeks doing our due diligience, we felt we had really found a great company--and we did find a great company--however the seller was not honest in his financial reports. Within 90 days we were facing collections on debts we had no idea existed and a month after that we found ourselves embroiled in a lawsuit. Anyone that's been watching the economic crash and burn (who hasn't?) has likely heard that Las Vegas has been hit hard, very hard. After a ten years unprecidented period of growth, construction has all but stopped and jobs have dried up, sending people out of Vegas in droves. Those things do not bode well for a company whose market is made up of people buying new or upgraded window coverings. Lee has jumped in with both feet to keep the buisness going amid all the arrows being slung our way, and he's done an amazing job. While other window covering companies are folding left and right, we've managed to stay afloat. We've lost some key employees, but we've held on to some absolute gems who are putting everything they have into making this work. In January we opened an Ogden, Utah location. We mostly wanted to keep our administration closer to home so that Lee didn't have to spend so much money and time commuting to Vegas, but we also started selling blinds out of that location. We hired a bookeeper and crossed our fingers that things would improve.
Come April, however, we had to look at more ways to cut our overhead. What we needed was someone to work for free, that had a vested interest in the company, and knew how to do basic account. Well, that person didn't exist--but two out of three ain't bad. I can work for free and I very much want the company to do well. The accounting part was the sticking pin, so I took a Quickbooks class and six weeks into the job I kinda almost sorta know what I'm doing. It's really worked out well despite my feeling sorry for myself that I can no longer live in my jammies.
It's been hard to fit this 25 hour a week job into everything else I do. I find I'm running from one thing to the next without much time to take a breath. Today, however, I have a morning to myself, at home, with no one but my dishwasher to keep me company. I have to take a couple kids in for doctor appointments in an hour, which means I won't be going in to work until after the appointment, which means I got to read a couple blogs and take twenty minutes to post something to my own.
Heaven.
It's my hope that within a few more weeks I'll be caught up at 'the office' and that life will settle into a new, though brimming, schedule. It's my hope that within a few more weeks I will now and then get an hour to sit and blog. It's my hope that within a few more weeks I will feel like I'm really making a marked contribution to the company (Did I mention the computer I crashed? The fact that I don't know how to use excel? My propensity to be rather snappy with the boss?) It's my hope that I will find a way to fit writing, exercise, editing, and cooking back into my life at some point.
For now, I'm glad I can do what I can do. I'm glad that working for my husband gives me the flexibility I need to be a mom and a writer as well, and I'm glad to have another thirty minutes of blesses peace and quiet in which to ponder the blessings in my life. I am blessed with work, blessed with ability, blessed with comfort, proseperity, and enough wisdom to see that despite the struggles, we're going to be just fine, one way or another.
So, anyway, if you've wondered where I've been, that's where, and if you're looking for window coverings, I'm hoping to have our new website up in another week or two so stay tuned.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Women's Conference Signing
Just a little note that if you're going to be at Women's Conference this week, I'll be doing a signing on Friday from 11-1 in the bookstore. If you've got books, you can bring them with you, or if you ain't got books, you can buy them there. Hope to see ya!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
379 Blog Posts Behind; was it Worth it?
So, April, in a word, has been packed. I won't bore you with the details--most of which are convulsingly boring--but suffice it to say that turning off my google reader was a necessary element of survival. Other things that reflect my neglect: My front porch has been stacked with empty cardboard boxes for almost two weeks (I received the binders used for the LDStorymaker Syllabus and since the actual binders filled my foyer, the boxes went outside, where they have not been touched), the three month supply of Ramen Noodles I keep downstairs is gone, and my writing schedule, which shows I was at 22, 083 of my WIF on March 29 shows I am currently at 22, 083 almost a month later.
So, while I loved every minute of the conference and the Whitney Awards, there is certainly a part of me that is relieved to be done, for now anyway.
I plan to get back into my regular routine as soon as I can, and plan to blog in detail about both the conference and the Whitneys, but for now I want to make a couple comments specifically toward my bloggy freinds.
I was so thrilled when I learned so many of you were coming to the conference, I imagined being able to sit next to you during a lunch, having a real-life conversation and giving adiquate acknowledgement of what I see as our freindship--the reality is that I got a hug (or handshake) from most of you, shared a couple dozen words, and was off running to something else. I realized this year that I have a certain disposition that keeps me completely high-strung at events where I have responsibility. I love that--I love the contininual momentum, I love being in the middle of things, I love trying to ease processes and being a go-to-girl. I don't regret THAT, but I do regret that I didn't make the time to properly acknowledge each of you a little more. I had thoughts on Saturday that we should have put together a Bloggy Ice Cream social or something for like 9:00 Friday night. Then we'd have the time to just hang, which would have been so much fun. I hope no one was offended or felt small or wondered why I didn't seem to care. As I look over the last few days, that is my big regret--that I had you guys so close and didn't take full advantage of that.
THAT SAID--I was teary when Kimburlee and Luisa 'found' each other across the room--and so glad when I got to 'find' them for just a minute. Melanie J. is exactly the babe I knew her to be (the heels! Wow), Stephanie Humphries And Melissa C. sat at my bootcamp table, hopefully not out of sympathy for me, and impressed me very much with their writing, Don WON the first chapter contest and though he likely coudln't hear me, I was cheering as loud as I could possibly manage (which thanks to the double ear infections I'm still recovering from was like triple-echoed in my own ears--I was like my own stadium!) Lexiconluvr gave me a necklace and earrings, can you believe that? I'd complimented her jewelry at a prior event and she BOUGHT me the same set. I felt like one of those celebrity people that get free cars and things. She is a bundle of energy and smiles and each time I passed her in the hall I got a fabulous hug. Heather Justisen came to the Humdinger signing, the conference, and the Whitneys--her support and continual 'there-ness' over the years means so much. Heather, believe me when I say I am THRILLED with your book coming out! Danyelle WON in the first chapter contest (one of them co-authored by Heather J.)as well, and as she is one of the bloggers I read that I've known the longest, I was a-hootin-and-hollerin right along with everyone else. She and Ali Cross were a great duo on the 'Goodmorning LDStorymakers'. Rachelle has a book coming out as well, and the woman just glows--did you notice that? Rebecca Tally also came to the Humdinger event--not only does she have 9 kids she even LOOKS like Wonder Woman! Stephanie Black won the Whitney in 'our' category and I couldn't have been more thrilled for her. Wendy and I passed each other many a time, Karlene was a fabulous hostess at my signing Thursday night, and always a smiling face at the conference. Mathew Buckley looked as busy as I was, and from what I hear tweeted beautifully all through the Whitneys. Carole was one I got to chat with more than most; I was so glad as she is someone I admire so much.
AND, in addition to all that--I got to spend time with some of the most amazing women I know; Tristi Pinkston, Julie Wright, Annette Lyon, Alison Palmer, and Heather Moore. I wish I'd had more time to visit with Jeannette Rallison, Tami Norton, and my writing-warrior-group Anne, Ronda, and Becky.
I also appreciate that while I didn't get the one-on-one time I wanted, I believe that each of these people don't hold it against me (well, I hope they don't). I so admire each of you and am glad to know you.
Sheesh, I said this would be short, didn't I? See what happens to all my good intentions? And I still need to put in the links--I better send the kids down to check for more Ramen one more time.
(If I missed you, don't be afraid to say so--and I just finished the links--took me 40 minutes!)
So, while I loved every minute of the conference and the Whitney Awards, there is certainly a part of me that is relieved to be done, for now anyway.
I plan to get back into my regular routine as soon as I can, and plan to blog in detail about both the conference and the Whitneys, but for now I want to make a couple comments specifically toward my bloggy freinds.
I was so thrilled when I learned so many of you were coming to the conference, I imagined being able to sit next to you during a lunch, having a real-life conversation and giving adiquate acknowledgement of what I see as our freindship--the reality is that I got a hug (or handshake) from most of you, shared a couple dozen words, and was off running to something else. I realized this year that I have a certain disposition that keeps me completely high-strung at events where I have responsibility. I love that--I love the contininual momentum, I love being in the middle of things, I love trying to ease processes and being a go-to-girl. I don't regret THAT, but I do regret that I didn't make the time to properly acknowledge each of you a little more. I had thoughts on Saturday that we should have put together a Bloggy Ice Cream social or something for like 9:00 Friday night. Then we'd have the time to just hang, which would have been so much fun. I hope no one was offended or felt small or wondered why I didn't seem to care. As I look over the last few days, that is my big regret--that I had you guys so close and didn't take full advantage of that.
THAT SAID--I was teary when Kimburlee and Luisa 'found' each other across the room--and so glad when I got to 'find' them for just a minute. Melanie J. is exactly the babe I knew her to be (the heels! Wow), Stephanie Humphries And Melissa C. sat at my bootcamp table, hopefully not out of sympathy for me, and impressed me very much with their writing, Don WON the first chapter contest and though he likely coudln't hear me, I was cheering as loud as I could possibly manage (which thanks to the double ear infections I'm still recovering from was like triple-echoed in my own ears--I was like my own stadium!) Lexiconluvr gave me a necklace and earrings, can you believe that? I'd complimented her jewelry at a prior event and she BOUGHT me the same set. I felt like one of those celebrity people that get free cars and things. She is a bundle of energy and smiles and each time I passed her in the hall I got a fabulous hug. Heather Justisen came to the Humdinger signing, the conference, and the Whitneys--her support and continual 'there-ness' over the years means so much. Heather, believe me when I say I am THRILLED with your book coming out! Danyelle WON in the first chapter contest (one of them co-authored by Heather J.)as well, and as she is one of the bloggers I read that I've known the longest, I was a-hootin-and-hollerin right along with everyone else. She and Ali Cross were a great duo on the 'Goodmorning LDStorymakers'. Rachelle has a book coming out as well, and the woman just glows--did you notice that? Rebecca Tally also came to the Humdinger event--not only does she have 9 kids she even LOOKS like Wonder Woman! Stephanie Black won the Whitney in 'our' category and I couldn't have been more thrilled for her. Wendy and I passed each other many a time, Karlene was a fabulous hostess at my signing Thursday night, and always a smiling face at the conference. Mathew Buckley looked as busy as I was, and from what I hear tweeted beautifully all through the Whitneys. Carole was one I got to chat with more than most; I was so glad as she is someone I admire so much.
AND, in addition to all that--I got to spend time with some of the most amazing women I know; Tristi Pinkston, Julie Wright, Annette Lyon, Alison Palmer, and Heather Moore. I wish I'd had more time to visit with Jeannette Rallison, Tami Norton, and my writing-warrior-group Anne, Ronda, and Becky.
I also appreciate that while I didn't get the one-on-one time I wanted, I believe that each of these people don't hold it against me (well, I hope they don't). I so admire each of you and am glad to know you.
Sheesh, I said this would be short, didn't I? See what happens to all my good intentions? And I still need to put in the links--I better send the kids down to check for more Ramen one more time.
(If I missed you, don't be afraid to say so--and I just finished the links--took me 40 minutes!)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Event Reminder: Provident Books & Humbinger Toys
Provident book and Humdinger toys in Pleasant Grove. chose Lemon Tart as their featured book of the month. I will be there for a discussion/signing on April 23 from 6:00-7:00 (661 W State, Ste A Pleasant Grove, UT). I will have all of my Cedar Fort published books there to sell, but you'll need to buy any of my Deseret Book published books at another location before that night. I've talked to other authors that have had the opportunity to be a part of the Provident book club and they said it was an absolute blast. I'm really looking forward to it. Open to the public!
Remember, if you come and mention that you read about the event on my blog, you get a special blogger-treat :-)
Remember, if you come and mention that you read about the event on my blog, you get a special blogger-treat :-)
Friday, April 17, 2009
Show Me The Money 2008
It's that time of year--the flowers are blooming, the sun is shining (in between snow storms) and tax day has passed. What could be a more perfect time to report author-earnings?
In the past I have done this according to payment schedules (go HERE and HERE to read previous blogs on this topic), and then realized it would make a lot more sense to report an entire year's worth of royalties, payments, or advances. Since publishers have all kinds of payment schedules, this will help equalize the numbers. The year to report on is 2008.
So, here's what you do. Post to this blog ANONYMOUSLY and tell us the following information:
Type of publication: (traditional or self-published)
# of books you were paid on: (how many books are still selling)
Market: (LDS, National, Christian--you can be more specific if you want to such as National YA, National inspirational--up to you)
Total monies earned:
Type of payment: (how much royalty, how much advance, sell of rights, purchases etc. did you earn in 2008)
You're welcome to include any other comments as well, and feel free to click on the box that will send you any other postings to this blog so you can follow the responses without having to come back here.
Thanks for playing!
In the past I have done this according to payment schedules (go HERE and HERE to read previous blogs on this topic), and then realized it would make a lot more sense to report an entire year's worth of royalties, payments, or advances. Since publishers have all kinds of payment schedules, this will help equalize the numbers. The year to report on is 2008.
So, here's what you do. Post to this blog ANONYMOUSLY and tell us the following information:
Type of publication: (traditional or self-published)
# of books you were paid on: (how many books are still selling)
Market: (LDS, National, Christian--you can be more specific if you want to such as National YA, National inspirational--up to you)
Total monies earned:
Type of payment: (how much royalty, how much advance, sell of rights, purchases etc. did you earn in 2008)
You're welcome to include any other comments as well, and feel free to click on the box that will send you any other postings to this blog so you can follow the responses without having to come back here.
Thanks for playing!
Friday, April 03, 2009
Event Reminder: Conference Saturday Signings
What could be better than listening to prophets and apostles and good ol' Mo'Tab?
Finishing it off with a good book!
Here's where I will be today. Remember, if you come in and tell me that you read about this on my blog, you get an eggstraspecial treat. No purchase necessary. Also, if you have a book already and want me to sign it, just bring it in a bag or purse--I'll vouch for you.
12:00-2:00--Deseret Book at University Mall (575 E. University Mall Parkway Orem, UT) I think this is the only signing I've done in Utah County in about six years. Wow. Open to the public.
6:00-8:00--This years Salt Lake location is the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, in the lobby. They always have drawings and food and all kinds of wonderful goodness to make it worth the trip. Open to the public.
Finishing it off with a good book!
Here's where I will be today. Remember, if you come in and tell me that you read about this on my blog, you get an eggstraspecial treat. No purchase necessary. Also, if you have a book already and want me to sign it, just bring it in a bag or purse--I'll vouch for you.
12:00-2:00--Deseret Book at University Mall (575 E. University Mall Parkway Orem, UT) I think this is the only signing I've done in Utah County in about six years. Wow. Open to the public.
6:00-8:00--This years Salt Lake location is the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, in the lobby. They always have drawings and food and all kinds of wonderful goodness to make it worth the trip. Open to the public.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Summary of April Events
April is chocked (chalked? chucked? chuck? chock? Annette--where is your OED?) full of many great things--Easter, chocolate, spring break, tulips, chocolate. And my calendar is brimming. So, I'm going to lay it all out here and eventually I'll update my web page with it as well. If you're able to make it to any of the events, I'll be thrilled to see you. In fact, I'm going to have a "Blog" treat for anyone that attends an event and says they read about it on my blog :-) ( I realize some of the events are 'closed' to members, but those members are still eligible if they see this blog and there are plenty of other 'public' events that are open to everyone.)
Until April 6--LDSbookcorner is featuring Lemon Tart in their "A chapter a Day" program. What they do is send a chapter a day via e-mail. This allows you to sample a book before you decide whether you want to read the whole thing. This is a great opportunity for me and I'm so dang excited to have had them feature Lemon Tart this week. To sign up, go to www.ldsbookcorner.com enter your email. You will shortly recieve an e-mail that says 'update your profile' which then allows you to choose your preferences. Look for my name (Josi S. Kilpack) and click on it. My name will only be there for a week, but if you sign up you'll recieve all five days of the daily chapters. Anyone can join.
April 4th signings:
I will be doing two signings this Saturday, on in Provo and one in Salt Lake. If you have already bought books you would like for me to sign, just bring them in a purse or a bag so the employees don't think you've picked them up to buy.
12:00-2:00--Deseret Book at University Mall (575 E. University Mall Parkway Orem, UT) I think this is the only signing I've done in Utah County in about six years. Wow. Open to the public.
6:00-8:00--This years Salt Lake location is the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, in the lobby. They always have drawings and food and all kinds of wonderful goodness to make it worth the trip. Open to the public.
April 16: Presenting to the Reader's Challenge group at Adele C. Young Intermediate School in Brigham City. Closed except to members.
April 17: Presenting to Mrs. Hollingworth's english classes at Adele C. Young Intermediate School. Closed except to students (and Mrs. Hollingsworth)
April 18: Presenting at the state conference for the National Teachers Association for Women; Alpha Delta Kappa. The conference is held at the Comfort Inn in Ogden this year. Closed except to members.
April 23: You can see on the side of my blog that Lemon Tart is the featured book for Provident book and Humdinger toys in Pleasant Grove. I will be there for a discussion/signing on April 23 from 6:00-7:00 (661 W State, Ste A Pleasant Grove, UT). I will have all of my Cedar Fort published books there to sell, but you'll need to buy any of my Deseret Book published books at another location before that night. I've talked to other authors that have had the opportunity to be a part of the Provident book club and they said it was an absolute blast. I'm really looking forward to it. Open to the public!
April 24 & 25--I'll be one of the boot camp instructors on both mornings of the LDStorymakers writers' conference 2009 and I'll teaching a workshop on how to build and take advantage of your own writing community. My workshop is at 9:30 on Saturday morning--I'm up against Carolyn Campbell's article writing and Rachel Anne Nunes Plot and Conflict. Ouch. Hopefully I'll get a seat or two filled though. Registration is still open!
April 29--I've been invited to the "Treats and a Good Book" bookclub for a ward in Tremonton. They chose Lemon Tart as their book for April, and have invited me to sit in on the discussion. I love these things! Closed except to members (and freinds they might invite)
April 30 or May 1--I'll be doing a booksiging at the BYU bookstore sometime during women's conference. This is another fabulopus venue and opportunity, so if you haven't caught up to me by then, look for me then. I'll post the details when I know them. Open to the public.
Oh, and Lemon Tart hit #1 on the fiction/literature list on DB last Friday! It's #10 on DB's overall bestseller list and the 3rd fiction title of those top ten. I owe it to you guys! Thanks so much.
Until April 6--LDSbookcorner is featuring Lemon Tart in their "A chapter a Day" program. What they do is send a chapter a day via e-mail. This allows you to sample a book before you decide whether you want to read the whole thing. This is a great opportunity for me and I'm so dang excited to have had them feature Lemon Tart this week. To sign up, go to www.ldsbookcorner.com enter your email. You will shortly recieve an e-mail that says 'update your profile' which then allows you to choose your preferences. Look for my name (Josi S. Kilpack) and click on it. My name will only be there for a week, but if you sign up you'll recieve all five days of the daily chapters. Anyone can join.
April 4th signings:
I will be doing two signings this Saturday, on in Provo and one in Salt Lake. If you have already bought books you would like for me to sign, just bring them in a purse or a bag so the employees don't think you've picked them up to buy.
12:00-2:00--Deseret Book at University Mall (575 E. University Mall Parkway Orem, UT) I think this is the only signing I've done in Utah County in about six years. Wow. Open to the public.
6:00-8:00--This years Salt Lake location is the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, in the lobby. They always have drawings and food and all kinds of wonderful goodness to make it worth the trip. Open to the public.
April 16: Presenting to the Reader's Challenge group at Adele C. Young Intermediate School in Brigham City. Closed except to members.
April 17: Presenting to Mrs. Hollingworth's english classes at Adele C. Young Intermediate School. Closed except to students (and Mrs. Hollingsworth)
April 18: Presenting at the state conference for the National Teachers Association for Women; Alpha Delta Kappa. The conference is held at the Comfort Inn in Ogden this year. Closed except to members.
April 23: You can see on the side of my blog that Lemon Tart is the featured book for Provident book and Humdinger toys in Pleasant Grove. I will be there for a discussion/signing on April 23 from 6:00-7:00 (661 W State, Ste A Pleasant Grove, UT). I will have all of my Cedar Fort published books there to sell, but you'll need to buy any of my Deseret Book published books at another location before that night. I've talked to other authors that have had the opportunity to be a part of the Provident book club and they said it was an absolute blast. I'm really looking forward to it. Open to the public!
April 24 & 25--I'll be one of the boot camp instructors on both mornings of the LDStorymakers writers' conference 2009 and I'll teaching a workshop on how to build and take advantage of your own writing community. My workshop is at 9:30 on Saturday morning--I'm up against Carolyn Campbell's article writing and Rachel Anne Nunes Plot and Conflict. Ouch. Hopefully I'll get a seat or two filled though. Registration is still open!
April 29--I've been invited to the "Treats and a Good Book" bookclub for a ward in Tremonton. They chose Lemon Tart as their book for April, and have invited me to sit in on the discussion. I love these things! Closed except to members (and freinds they might invite)
April 30 or May 1--I'll be doing a booksiging at the BYU bookstore sometime during women's conference. This is another fabulopus venue and opportunity, so if you haven't caught up to me by then, look for me then. I'll post the details when I know them. Open to the public.
Oh, and Lemon Tart hit #1 on the fiction/literature list on DB last Friday! It's #10 on DB's overall bestseller list and the 3rd fiction title of those top ten. I owe it to you guys! Thanks so much.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Yes, We're Related, Why do You Ask?
Jeanie (age 14+)
"Hey Mom, you know that song that goes Every Rose Has it's Thorn, what's it called?"
Lou-Lou (age 13)
"It's a fact, Little Man, kinda like how it's a fact you've got twenty fingers, ya know? Wait . . ."
Little Man (age 10)
"Claudia (the piano teacher) said I did so good on my songs you should buy me a treat."
"I did buy you a treat," I say.
"You did! What is it?"
"Cough syrup."
"That's aweso---hey, wait a minute!"
KB (age 7)
*We were playing a game where you draw a card that gives you a category and you try to come up with things that fit that category. Since she's only 7, she just helps me. The category was "Words you use in place of swear words."
"Oh, I get it," KB says. "Like . . ." She whispers the word in my ear.
"Um, actually, that's a real swear word, sweetie."
It's just nice now and then to get the validation that, yep, their mine and we're all in good company.
Thanks everyone for sharing in my excitement of the DB list, it was so great to share it with friends and get such fabulous feedback. Also, a couple weeks ago I was interviewed by Wendy at Author Beginnings a fun new blog all about how writer's got started. If you want to know where my life as a writer began, click HERE to check it out.
"Hey Mom, you know that song that goes Every Rose Has it's Thorn, what's it called?"
Lou-Lou (age 13)
"It's a fact, Little Man, kinda like how it's a fact you've got twenty fingers, ya know? Wait . . ."
Little Man (age 10)
"Claudia (the piano teacher) said I did so good on my songs you should buy me a treat."
"I did buy you a treat," I say.
"You did! What is it?"
"Cough syrup."
"That's aweso---hey, wait a minute!"
KB (age 7)
*We were playing a game where you draw a card that gives you a category and you try to come up with things that fit that category. Since she's only 7, she just helps me. The category was "Words you use in place of swear words."
"Oh, I get it," KB says. "Like . . ." She whispers the word in my ear.
"Um, actually, that's a real swear word, sweetie."
It's just nice now and then to get the validation that, yep, their mine and we're all in good company.
Thanks everyone for sharing in my excitement of the DB list, it was so great to share it with friends and get such fabulous feedback. Also, a couple weeks ago I was interviewed by Wendy at Author Beginnings a fun new blog all about how writer's got started. If you want to know where my life as a writer began, click HERE to check it out.
Friday, March 20, 2009
GOAL! #1 on Deseret Book
Oh I am so glad I am home alone right now. Serious. I would be forever embarrassed if anyone had overheard my maniacal laughter, shouts and unrestrained jubilation.
BUT, my neurotic-celebration is totally warranted because I have accomplished a goal I have hoped for and tried to talk myself out of for almost ten years. Lemon Tart made number one on Deseret Book's General Fiction list AND the Mystery and Suspense list! AND that puts it as #2 on the Overall Fiction list and #12 on Deseret Book's overall best seller list. Take a LOOK at the best seller's list--how many fiction novels to you see up there? Yeah, exactly my point!
Fiction is a hard sell, it really is, and any publisher will tell you that non-fiction sells better than fiction. ESPECIALLY in regard to DBs bestseller list because you a competing with General Authorities! And MY book is on the list. Worldwide Ward Cookbook is also on the list, which also makes me so very happy.
Ya know, in life there are some really icky days you have to suffer through, and honestly it's days like this that help me get through the mud-slog days.
In addition to the #1 spot on DBs list, I also received an honorable mention in Scribbit's March writing contest. You can read my entry by going to her blog--read a couple of the others up there as well, they are great.
Let me end this with a plea that you will forgive my indulgent explosion and pride in my accomplishments--I am a writer which means I will be humbled tomorrow when I wrestle with a scene that just isn't working--BUT thank you, each and every one of you that read my blog, read my books, leave online reviews, recommend my books to my friends, tell me what you liked, help me improve, listen to me rant, and cheer right along with me. I could NOT have achieved this goal without amazing support from everyone in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It's a good day. AND I'm done writing today. I'm going to go for a celebratory jog and eat half a box of Thin Mints.
ALSO, I did a podcast with LDSwomenbookreviews a few weeks ago, and the podcast is up and ready to be downloaded. Click HERE to find out how you can download it.
BUT, my neurotic-celebration is totally warranted because I have accomplished a goal I have hoped for and tried to talk myself out of for almost ten years. Lemon Tart made number one on Deseret Book's General Fiction list AND the Mystery and Suspense list! AND that puts it as #2 on the Overall Fiction list and #12 on Deseret Book's overall best seller list. Take a LOOK at the best seller's list--how many fiction novels to you see up there? Yeah, exactly my point!
Fiction is a hard sell, it really is, and any publisher will tell you that non-fiction sells better than fiction. ESPECIALLY in regard to DBs bestseller list because you a competing with General Authorities! And MY book is on the list. Worldwide Ward Cookbook is also on the list, which also makes me so very happy.
Ya know, in life there are some really icky days you have to suffer through, and honestly it's days like this that help me get through the mud-slog days.
In addition to the #1 spot on DBs list, I also received an honorable mention in Scribbit's March writing contest. You can read my entry by going to her blog--read a couple of the others up there as well, they are great.
Let me end this with a plea that you will forgive my indulgent explosion and pride in my accomplishments--I am a writer which means I will be humbled tomorrow when I wrestle with a scene that just isn't working--BUT thank you, each and every one of you that read my blog, read my books, leave online reviews, recommend my books to my friends, tell me what you liked, help me improve, listen to me rant, and cheer right along with me. I could NOT have achieved this goal without amazing support from everyone in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It's a good day. AND I'm done writing today. I'm going to go for a celebratory jog and eat half a box of Thin Mints.
ALSO, I did a podcast with LDSwomenbookreviews a few weeks ago, and the podcast is up and ready to be downloaded. Click HERE to find out how you can download it.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Cookbook Winner
Have I mentioned that I'm taking a Quick books class? And have I mentioned that school really isn't my thing? And have I mentioned that I still have half a dozen Whitney Award finalists to read? And have I mentioned that my husband is out of town this week? And have I mentioned I'm presenting at a writer's conference this weekend? And have I mentioned that I hate all holidays, even if the only thing I have to do is wear green and feel guilty that I'm not making corned beef?
Yeah, that's why this is a short post. BUT I am ever so grateful for everyone that entered and super excited to choose the winner . . . Becky Clayson!
Becky has been in my writing group for the last few years--remember her name cause you're going to see it on a book cover in the next couple years.
Becky, if you'll send me your address offline, I'll forward it to Covenant Communications.
And since I know the rest of you are just heartsick over not winning, you can buy it HERE.
Thanks again for playing.
Oh, and a BIG shout out thank you to everyone that's buying Lemon Tart. It's ranked #2 on Deseret Book's website! Wohooooooooo! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for the great support!
Yeah, that's why this is a short post. BUT I am ever so grateful for everyone that entered and super excited to choose the winner . . . Becky Clayson!
Becky has been in my writing group for the last few years--remember her name cause you're going to see it on a book cover in the next couple years.
Becky, if you'll send me your address offline, I'll forward it to Covenant Communications.
And since I know the rest of you are just heartsick over not winning, you can buy it HERE.
Thanks again for playing.
Oh, and a BIG shout out thank you to everyone that's buying Lemon Tart. It's ranked #2 on Deseret Book's website! Wohooooooooo! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for the great support!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Worldwide Ward Cookbook GIVEAWAY
I still bow in reverence to Annette Lyon's amazing contest week, but there must be something in the water cause I'm gunna have one too. but don't forget to check out Annette's blog as well, just cause you win one doesn't disqualify you from winning another one.Sooooooo, you were all coveting my cookbook when I talked about it a couple weeks ago, weren't you? (the Baked Shrimp was DIVINE!) Well, of course you were coveting! If not for the fact that I have one already, I would covet it to. However, I have been given the opportunity to save you from your evil ways by offering one of you salvation through your very own copy. Covenant Communications has offered a free copy of the book to one of my delightful readers (that's you). To enter, however, you have to first read this:
“Confessions of a Chocoholic Cook” is a free cooking event in which community members will be taught simple but tasty chocolate recipes from "Worldwide Ward Cookbook."
The event will be held at the SCERA lobby (745 S. State St., Orem, UT) on Wednesday, March 18 @ 7 p.m.
Some of the recipes that will be taught and demonstrated include Chocolate Pancakes with Grandma's Syrup, Snickers Salad, “My Most Favorite Cake” and Fudge Cookies.
“Confessions of a Chocoholic Cook” is open to the general public, but those who want to attend must RSVP by March 16 by emailing covenantpromotions@gmail.com. (I don't know how to make that a hyperlink, sorry)
Seriously, have you ever had Snickers Salad? I have and it's amazing! This will be a totally awesome night and it's FREE!
Now that you're drooling all over your keyboard, or crying because you live a million miles away and can't afford a plane ticket, here's how you can enter the contest for a free copy of The Worldwide Ward Cookbook. I'll draw a winner on Monday the 16th by using random.org.
To enter, you have to tell me the most recent chocolate you've eaten. for me, it's the Fudge Pudding cake that my daughter and I made for FHE last night (and I had for breakfast . . . and lunch)--super yummy!
AND if you are planning to attend this event, you get entered twice. I will take you at your word because we all know where liars go :-)
Keep in mind that Deanna is still taking entries for her Worldwide Ward Christmas Cookbook, but there are only a few weeks left. Go HERE for details.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I Can Cry if I Want to!
Growing up, us kids had 'friend' birthdays every other year, which meant we had two years to plan and look forward to it and although they were never fancy, it was always a very big deal for us. I was turning 12, it was a 'friend' year and I was so excited.
I had a sleep over and invited 8 girls--seeing as how we had 8 kids in my family at that time I think my parents were pretty generous. It had been hard to choose 8--there was lots of "Will Molly come if I don't invite Shannon?" and "will Heather feel out of place if Kim isn't there?" and "Will Kim get mad if Molly's there?" and "Do I invite Sara?" Sara was a big issue. She thought I was a dork (I'm not saying I wasn't)--everyone knew she thought I was a dork--but she'd recently moved in up the street from me which put her in the 'ward' category although she didn't come very often and I had invited all the other girls in my 'ward' age group--but they were my friends. And Sara really wasn't. But she was 'popular' and friends with some of the other girls there, and I was inviting all the other girls in my ward age group. Do I invite her too, even though she thinks I'm a total lameo dork?
I didn't invite her.
At first.
But about 1/2 an hour into the party, one of the girls called Sara and told her that we were all at the party, then she handed the phone to me so that Sara could wish me a happy birthday. She said she hoped I had a nice party. MAN. So I stammered through how lame my mom was and I could only invite eight people. She was very good (i.e. manipulative) about it and said it sounded like we were having a really good time. I felt horrible. She sounded like she really wanted to come and I loved the idea that she wanted to be at MY party. So, with 8 kids in our family and 8 additional 12 year old girls, I went and begged (i.e. manipulated) my mom to let Sara come. Mom gave in; Sara came; it was all downhill from there.
See, I wasn't the only person at my party that Sara thought was a dork--and the party quickly separated into 'Cool' and 'Dork' groups. Sara thought the games I planned were dumb, which meant the people in her group thought they were too. Sara thought the movie we watched (The Incredible Shrinking Woman) was stupid, which meant her group thought so too. Of course, she never said it like that, she just said things like "Are we seriously doing a pinata?" and "I've seen this like ten times, did you record it off the TV?" THEN, we all go to sleep in the TV room, shoved into every available corner. Someone (probably Sara but I can't remember, which means it could very well have been me) says we should tell scary stories, so we do. And hour later two girls are crying because they are sleeping next to the window and if that guy with the hook decides to break in, they're going to get killed first. No one will trade places with them. Sara and her group start whispering to each other and I know they are saying how dumb my party is. I leave the room, trying not to cry, desperate for solutions to this nightmare. I go in and tell my parents that I don't know what to do. My dad tells me I'm being a jerk and to just get my butt back in there and finish the damn party (he's not so good with emotional drama). Eventually, that's what I do. I go back in the room, turn my back to everyone and clench my eyes closed in hopes I will sleep and everyone else will to.
Eventually, we do sleep. I don't remember what happened in the morning except that after everyone leaves I go to my room and cry for an hour, certain that this social flop will ruin my life.
It didn't--in fact I don't remember any kind of follow-up other than I decided I never wanted to have another birthday party again. And I didn't. In later years I would go to a movie with friends, or we'd go to someone else's house, but I never had another invitation, cake, friends-to-my house party. It wasn't worth the risk. Sara and I eventually became sorta friends, though she was always way cooler and I was always way dorkier.
I told this story to Lou-lou last week as she was stressing about who to invite to her party, who not to invite, what to do at the party, what would be fun. I told her not to get her hopes up too high, that after you turned 10 girls were different, parties were different, and that having a schedule probably wasn't a really great idea. She's a very fun, creative, and high energy girl and felt sure that we could come up with stuff that would make her party amazing. We came up with some really fun ideas and I was hopeful.
And then the girls showed up.
They all knew each other except one, who is a year younger than Lou-lou but a good friend. Lou-lou tried hard to make sure this girl had a good time, which meant her other friends kind of grouped together. No one was mean, but every girl there had a cell phone, and through each part of the party they were texting or calling someone. At 8:30, Lou-lou came to me complaining about the phones. I went to collect them, saying I would keep them in the kitchen (like when you take all the drunk people's keys). They all insisted their mother would be calling them and so they had to keep their phones with them (can you say rehearsed?). They didn't want to watch the movie, they didn't like the cake, they kept texting. At 10:30 Lou-lou came to me saying she wished she hadn't had a sleep over and they were making her crazy cause they didn't seem to want to do anything she had planned. I did not tell her she was a jerk and she should get back to her damn party, I said "I'm sorry, is there anything I can do to help?" There wasn't because the girls still insisted their mothers were going to call them. At 11:00 I said goodnight. At 2:00 Lou-lou told everyone they needed to go to bed. They said they wanted to watch the movie now.
At 8:00 the first one had to leave for a dance practice--they all woke up. I made breakfast, they ate, another one left, they played a game that one girl said was dumb, they went outside and collected eggs (I think they actually liked that part) they wandered the yard and jumped on the trampoline. At 11:00 the last one went home and Lou-lou came in to tell me she was done with parties--I was right, it didn't work after you turned ten.
I hate to say I told her so, but, well, I told her so.
I had a sleep over and invited 8 girls--seeing as how we had 8 kids in my family at that time I think my parents were pretty generous. It had been hard to choose 8--there was lots of "Will Molly come if I don't invite Shannon?" and "will Heather feel out of place if Kim isn't there?" and "Will Kim get mad if Molly's there?" and "Do I invite Sara?" Sara was a big issue. She thought I was a dork (I'm not saying I wasn't)--everyone knew she thought I was a dork--but she'd recently moved in up the street from me which put her in the 'ward' category although she didn't come very often and I had invited all the other girls in my 'ward' age group--but they were my friends. And Sara really wasn't. But she was 'popular' and friends with some of the other girls there, and I was inviting all the other girls in my ward age group. Do I invite her too, even though she thinks I'm a total lameo dork?
I didn't invite her.
At first.
But about 1/2 an hour into the party, one of the girls called Sara and told her that we were all at the party, then she handed the phone to me so that Sara could wish me a happy birthday. She said she hoped I had a nice party. MAN. So I stammered through how lame my mom was and I could only invite eight people. She was very good (i.e. manipulative) about it and said it sounded like we were having a really good time. I felt horrible. She sounded like she really wanted to come and I loved the idea that she wanted to be at MY party. So, with 8 kids in our family and 8 additional 12 year old girls, I went and begged (i.e. manipulated) my mom to let Sara come. Mom gave in; Sara came; it was all downhill from there.
See, I wasn't the only person at my party that Sara thought was a dork--and the party quickly separated into 'Cool' and 'Dork' groups. Sara thought the games I planned were dumb, which meant the people in her group thought they were too. Sara thought the movie we watched (The Incredible Shrinking Woman) was stupid, which meant her group thought so too. Of course, she never said it like that, she just said things like "Are we seriously doing a pinata?" and "I've seen this like ten times, did you record it off the TV?" THEN, we all go to sleep in the TV room, shoved into every available corner. Someone (probably Sara but I can't remember, which means it could very well have been me) says we should tell scary stories, so we do. And hour later two girls are crying because they are sleeping next to the window and if that guy with the hook decides to break in, they're going to get killed first. No one will trade places with them. Sara and her group start whispering to each other and I know they are saying how dumb my party is. I leave the room, trying not to cry, desperate for solutions to this nightmare. I go in and tell my parents that I don't know what to do. My dad tells me I'm being a jerk and to just get my butt back in there and finish the damn party (he's not so good with emotional drama). Eventually, that's what I do. I go back in the room, turn my back to everyone and clench my eyes closed in hopes I will sleep and everyone else will to.
Eventually, we do sleep. I don't remember what happened in the morning except that after everyone leaves I go to my room and cry for an hour, certain that this social flop will ruin my life.
It didn't--in fact I don't remember any kind of follow-up other than I decided I never wanted to have another birthday party again. And I didn't. In later years I would go to a movie with friends, or we'd go to someone else's house, but I never had another invitation, cake, friends-to-my house party. It wasn't worth the risk. Sara and I eventually became sorta friends, though she was always way cooler and I was always way dorkier.
I told this story to Lou-lou last week as she was stressing about who to invite to her party, who not to invite, what to do at the party, what would be fun. I told her not to get her hopes up too high, that after you turned 10 girls were different, parties were different, and that having a schedule probably wasn't a really great idea. She's a very fun, creative, and high energy girl and felt sure that we could come up with stuff that would make her party amazing. We came up with some really fun ideas and I was hopeful.
And then the girls showed up.
They all knew each other except one, who is a year younger than Lou-lou but a good friend. Lou-lou tried hard to make sure this girl had a good time, which meant her other friends kind of grouped together. No one was mean, but every girl there had a cell phone, and through each part of the party they were texting or calling someone. At 8:30, Lou-lou came to me complaining about the phones. I went to collect them, saying I would keep them in the kitchen (like when you take all the drunk people's keys). They all insisted their mother would be calling them and so they had to keep their phones with them (can you say rehearsed?). They didn't want to watch the movie, they didn't like the cake, they kept texting. At 10:30 Lou-lou came to me saying she wished she hadn't had a sleep over and they were making her crazy cause they didn't seem to want to do anything she had planned. I did not tell her she was a jerk and she should get back to her damn party, I said "I'm sorry, is there anything I can do to help?" There wasn't because the girls still insisted their mothers were going to call them. At 11:00 I said goodnight. At 2:00 Lou-lou told everyone they needed to go to bed. They said they wanted to watch the movie now.
At 8:00 the first one had to leave for a dance practice--they all woke up. I made breakfast, they ate, another one left, they played a game that one girl said was dumb, they went outside and collected eggs (I think they actually liked that part) they wandered the yard and jumped on the trampoline. At 11:00 the last one went home and Lou-lou came in to tell me she was done with parties--I was right, it didn't work after you turned ten.
I hate to say I told her so, but, well, I told her so.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Tower of Strength Contest
Annette Lyon, my good friend, has released book 4 in her temple series--though they aren't sequels--Tower of Strength and she has worked her already-tiny-fanny off to come up with one of the most amazing contests I've ever seen. I like to think I'd support her anyway, but I really want to win stuff too :0) Sooooo, head over to her blog for details--or don't; then I won't have as much competition.
I've never embedded a movie before, so let's hope this works! Don't miss Tower of Strength--I bought my copy last week :-)
I've never embedded a movie before, so let's hope this works! Don't miss Tower of Strength--I bought my copy last week :-)
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Do I have to do EVERYTHING?
So, Lou-lou (12 year old daughter) is having girl drama. Really lame girl drama (is there non-lame girl drama?) It involves her 'former' best friend and a boy they both liked--guess which one of them got him? Not Lou-lou. (which her mother is very grateful for, but which Lou-lou feels is likely the end of the world)
It's been two weeks and on Tuesday morning Lou-lou had a melt down. She missed the bus and we sat on the couch and talked about what it was that caused her to fall apart. It was obviously not the regular stuff--I knew some new level had been reached. I was right (of course I was right) and after some tears and some "I'll love you no matter what"s she finally admitted that last week she had called the former best freind a name--not to her face, but she'd said it to a freind and then the girl found out (of course she found out). Now Lou-lou feels horrible and the former freind was very hurt.
So I asked Lou-lou, "What did you call her?"
Lou-lou folds into herself and shakes her head as new tears fall. "I can't tell you."
Oh boy. I know a lot of dirty words and bad names and they all start rushing through my head. "You can tell me," I assure her. "I promise I won't get mad, but I need to know what the name was so that I know what kind of fall-out to expect." (No, she doesn't know what fall-out means, but I like to use phrases like that so that the kids remember I'm smarter than they are)
She shakes her head. "I can't say it," she says. "I'm not even sure what it means."
Wow. Now I'm really worried. "Was it a swear word?"
She shakes her head and I'm perpelexed. After a moment, however, I realize that there are far worse words she could have used than a simple swear word (which is ironic, but true). And my stomach falls a little bit as I imagine what word she could have picked up somewhere and then recycled for this event.
"Well," I say all calm and collected. "I'm sure I know what it means, so tell me what you said and we'll go from there. You're not going to shock me with it."
She peers over her knees. "You know what it means," she said. "You've said it before."
Yikes. As I said, I know a lot of bad-mean-dirty words, but I don't make a habit of saying many of them--unless I'm talking about dental insurance or computer ink and I'm careful not to bring up those topics in front of my children. She does not continue. "When did I say it?" I ask, certain I'd remember when I used this horrible word.
"When The Bad Girl's Club came on TV."
I'm compltely confused. I have no idea what the Bad Girl's club is. "Well, you're gunna have to tell me what it was cause I'm stumped. What did you call her?"
"Slut."
Oh, is that all? I mean, not that it's a good word--certainly not for a very non-slutty 12 year old girl--but it could have been so much worse. So I told her what it meant, which made her cry even harder, and then I told the story of the girl who has to let all the feathers go and then is told to pick them all up. I think she got it. She stayed home for an hour to get herself together and then I took her to school where she met with her councilor about what to do from here.
On the way out of the parking lot I glared at the building disappearing in my rear view mirror. My daughter is in the 7th grade, she's been in public schools most of her life and yet she learned the word slut from me?
If that's not evidence of the failure of a decent public education, I don't know what is.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Lemon Tart: Time out for Women book March 2009!
To say having a book chosen as a Time Out For Women book club selection is a big deal, is an understatement. Not only are there only a couple dozen books chosen every year, but there are very few fiction titles chosen. Sooooo, when I found out Lemon Tart was chosen, well, let's just say I'd have been embarrassed if anyone had been watching me. Luckily, I was alone and my dignity remained in tact as far as anyone else was concerned, but I felt a little like this:
If you haven't heard of Time Out For Women, it's a program designed by Deseret Book that brings women together with recommended books and a traveling women's conference. I attended my first TOFW event in Ogden in January, and it was awesome--very inspiring. I have had other books considered for the bookclub, but not ultimately chosen, so in many ways I feel like I've been working toward this for a few years.So, here's what's in it for you. If you haven't yet bought Lemon Tart, you can buy it through the TOFW website for 25% off. You can also read my author intereview and read up on the other TOFW book this month "Tell it like it is" by Sheri Dew (yeah, I share the page with HER!) So, anyhow, check it out HERE and tell a freind of two; maybe suggest it for your ward's bookclub next month, since you can get it at a discount during March.
Did I mention this is pretty exciting?
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Slumdog Millunair
Disclaimer: I know I spelled Millionaire wrong (aren't you proud of me for knowing? Usually my spelling mistakes are based on complete ignorance)
I had heard a little bit about this movie over the last few weeks; we didn't watch the Academy awards so I didn't know that it received like eight Oscar's. If I'd known, I probably wouldn't have gone to it--I have a certain level of distrust in regard to the Academy Awards; it's one of my many conspiracy theories and lingers right up there with dental insurance and the price of computer ink.
Anyway, I didn't know about the Academy Awards, like I said, but I'd heard a radio person I respect say good things and then my good friend Carole Thayne said she liked it. Well, Carole is one of those people that I just trust implicitly. It's probably a good thing she's never tried to convince me that dental insurance isn't pure extortion, because I would probably believe that and it would throw all my conspiratorial thoughts into a spiral. However, the reason I trust her is because she is 100% honest, and about 90% of the time I 100% agree with her. The other 10% never gets in our way, which is a relief. So I heard about Slumdog on the radio and Carole liked it--that's like a six star review in my book.
But the movie is rated R. Now, I am not a rating worshiper. In fact I think PG 13 is the most ambiguous and misleading rating ever invented. Case in point: two weeks ago my husband was going to take our almost-13-year-old to Taken. I looked up the review and here's one of the 'sexual' scenes relayed "A man walks through an area where curtains are strung up creating rooms where young women lie in cots (most are unconscious from drugs) and men have sex with them" Yeah, turns out it was about girls being kidnapped and sold as sex slaves. We decided that wasn't the kind of movie we wanted to see, let alone take our child to. For really good detailed movie reivews check out www.kidsinmind.com they are not opinion reviews, they are based on specific scenes and have a rating system I have found quite reliable.
I'm getting distracted. So, back to Slumdog--it is rated R. But since movie ratings are another of my conspiracies, AND I trust Carole's opinions, AND I am not afraid to walk out of movies, AND my husband had been out of town all week and I was stircrazy to have the 5 minute drive all to myself with him--we decided to go.
Through the whole movie I waited for THE SCENE--you know, the horrible, gratuitous, totally inappropriate scene that necessitated the R rating. I waited for that scene, but it never came. Weird huh? Instead of these gratuituous, hyper-violetnt, sexual or inappropriate scenes, we watched a beautiful, stunning, wonderful movie about an exceptional young man who rises above everything. The leading themes of this movie, for me, were love, faith, redemption and how all these things are more powerful than circumstances. Lee and I discussed at length on the way home why in the world this was rated R. The only thing we could come up with was that it is very real--at times in a very raw I-don't-want-to-believe-these-kind-of-things-really-happen. But they do happen--every day they happen and the movie didn't seem to take advantage of showing the details to the degree they likely could have gotten away with. I came home with a renewed desire to keep goodness alive in the world so that people seeking it can find something to hold onto. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that, but it was something I was reminded up very strongly by this film.
So, here is the premis without giving up the story. Jamal Melik (might be wrong about the last name) and his brother, Salim, grow up in the slumps of Mumbai (check spelling). They are poor and are eventually orphaned which leads them to an orphanage where Salim is 'picked' to be a 'dog', meaning he is a kind of assistant to the leader of the orphanage who is a horrible, despicable man. Eventually they escape and grow up on the streets of Bombay by way of numerous cons, thefts, and other street-life-induced ways of supporting themselves. At a certain point they part ways. Salim makes his life through crime, Jamal is driven to recconect with a girl they met as children. We see the scenes of his life intersperced by Jamal's current situation which is that he is a contestant on the India version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire (pronounced Millunair when said in English with an Indian accent). Each question he's asked is cleverly tied to an experience of Jamal's life, but the better he does, the higher the stakes become.
And that's all I'm going to say about that.
As for what to warn you about--there are raw parts of this film, specifically:
*The F word is said once
*There are rather brutal interrigation practices employed--not grapic
*There is a scene that shows the bare bum of a little boy who was the victim of a mean prank (which he totally deserved, IMO)
*There is a scene where two teenage boys walk through the red light district and find a girl who is being prepared to be sold as a virgin--not graphic
*There is a scene where a girl basically agrees to be raped in order to save a boy's life--not graphic, terribly heartbreaking.
*There is a scene where a little boy is made blind by adults--THIS was the most horrible scene of the movie. It's not horribly graphic, but it makes it hard to breathe to realize this could happen to a child.
*There is a shoot out scene, where two men are killed--intense but not graphic
*There is a shooting scene where one horrible man is killed--not grapic
*There is a scene where a young woman is cut on the face--scary and intense but not graphic
*There is a scene where a boy is going to the bathroom in a decrepit outhouse with a hole in the floor. Two boys talk about 'pooping' and then the one boy has to get out of the outhouse through the 'pit'. This was very gross, but was relayed in a more funny way than just disgusting.
That's all I can think of right now. As a final note, this isn't a movie I want my kids (ages 14 and 12) to see right now, but when they are older I think it would actually be a good film for them to see--in order to realize just how protected we are in this country. But I want them to be more mature so that they can fully understand that the lives relayed in this film are REAL. Millions of people live this way.
Anyhoo, there is my not-so-short review. I don't think I gave away too much--but if you've seen the movie and you think I did, please tell me so I can adjust the review. For a more detailed review go HERE
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