milestones

There are so many reasons not to write.

Sleep, for one. Last night I fell asleep at 7:30 and slept mostly straight through until 8:00 this morning. This, after a week or two or ten of getting no more than six hours of sleep each night and sometimes far less.

Cleaning, for another. My house...it drives me crazy. My floors go unswept, my mail unopened, my dishes unwashed in the sink or piled up on the counters. My laundry. Oh god, my laundry.

Rejection. I've gotten plenty of that, enough to--repeatedly--question my sanity. A lot of people think they can write. I think some of them are delusional. Obviously they are unaware that they are delusional. Well, I'm a rational person. I can connect these dots.

Still, I keep at it, delusional or not, and as a good friend and encourager and fellow-writer has (repeatedly, since I'm a slow learner) pointed out, I've made progress. I blogged earlier about becoming a writer, and since that time I've written four novels, quite a few stories, notebooks full of really annoying poetry, a whole secret deluge of angsty journal entries, and some sadly sporadic blog posts.

Each time I was ready to give up, to admit defeat, I've been given a little tiny step of forward progress that has kept me going. Slews of form rejections for my first novel are made less bitter by one precious phrase of personalized encouragement from an agent: "You have a lively writing voice." I keep writing.

Novel two and three get some personalized rejections. A request or two. And then...two agents express excitement and a desire to see revisions! Requests on the revised manuscript. Positive rejections! And finally...OFFERS.

In the meantime, it's not like the rejection stops...it's not like my house cleans itself or my children don't need me or teaching takes up less time. I can still find a lot of reasons not to write. But the progress--these tiny steps forward--this makes me continue on.

I've been promising writing news now for a while, hinting at excitement...and it's true! I have super news! I'm signing with an agent--Sarah Davies of Greenhouse Literary Agency!

I'm so thrilled, and I hope you'll go to her terrific site and look around. The moment she requested my manuscript, I went over to her site and found myself sucked into her amazing blog, which is fascinating in what she says about the publishing industry and her own business but which also shows so much of her as a person and a thinker and an appreciator of all things in the literary world.

I'm so happy to reach this next step in the process. I know there's still a long road ahead, and I know there will be more reasons to stop, but as I pass each milestone in this path, I gain some resolve and some courage to keep going! And I'm certainly filled with hope about the eventual places this path could lead!

And...I've said this before, but this blog was born between novel number one and two, in a long gap in my writing when I wasn't really sure if I had the strength to put words out into the world anymore. I know my professed purpose has always been to share stories of my kids and have this record of the moments that pass so quickly in life, but what I've found in this outlet is so much more than that in regard to my writing life. Thanks so much to the people who read and follow my (mis)adventures in parenting and writing and life in general.

So thanks for hanging out with me here on this exciting road, and I hope I'll have more milestones to celebrate along the way! :)

If you should find me crouching n@ked...

...in a dark corner, muttering incoherently, covered in filth, scribbling manifestos on the walls with crayon stumps...let it be known that it was the children who drove me to it.


I tried to get him back to sleep, when he woke up after only 25 minutes of napping, causing me to leave my lunch mid-bite and my novel-in-progress mid-scene, and started screaming as though his pudgy little toes were being eaten one by one by a hideous monster with needle-sharp teeth. He popped up, giggling maniacally, every time I tried to get him to lie down again. Fine. We'll get up.


Twenty seconds later, give or take, he is a puddle of screeching fury. "Jabber, what happened?"


Jabberwock bursts into a screaming fit of equal or greater proportions. "He's touching my jet!" he wails. At least, I think that's what he was saying.


"So what did you do to him?" I am shouting now, too, since it's the only way to be heard. Oh, did I mention I am trying to pee at this moment?


"NOTHING!" Of course. Why do I even ask?


"MOM! Monkey's climbing the step stool!"


Oh, shit. This is not the step stool Monkey regularly climbs, the one the kids stand on to brush their teeth. This is the three-step huge step-stool that Jabberwock and I had been using to paint the mural in his room while Monkey was at daycare this morning. I hurry up and finish up in the bathroom and rush into the bedroom almost in time to catch Monkey as he pitches off the stool onto the floor.


Almost.


"Stay up here!" I shout to Jabber, over the screams. "I can't handle you two being together for a while, and I'm going to try to nurse him back to sleep on the couch!" Monkey is convulsing in tears. Jabber protests his banishment with tears, but I give him a squeeze and head downstairs.


We settle into our spot on the couch, Monkey eagerly latching on and even closing his eyes. I hold my breath. I slowly raise a hand to nudge the touchpad on my laptop, hoping maybe to add a sentence or two to my draft. Eyes fly open angrily. "UNH! UNH!" Monkey begins beating me about the head and chest, pushing me away from him.


Now he doesn't want to nurse. He wants a cup of milk from the end table. He takes a sip, screams. Now he must have my coffee. I deflect him, and he throws himself on the floor. He demands pretzels, which I give him. He takes a bite, throws the rest of the bowl down. Screams. Jabber comes downstairs, shouting about how he promises he won't fight with the baby. Five seconds pass, and he is pushing Monkey over for getting too close to a block tower he built. Monkey screams, go figure.


In search of revenge for this loss of his baby dignity, Monkey does several devastating turns about the living room--a small but deadly tornado. He settles on the cord for my laptop, which he grips in both hands while glaring at me defiantly.


"Monkey, no! No, No, No!" I calculate quickly. Which can I reach first, Monkey or the keyboard? I leap toward the keyboard, just managing to push Control-S before he yanks out the plug, sending my dead-battery craptop into an instant blackout.


I sigh, start up the computer again (this will take about ten minutes, if I'm lucky), and check outside. Sigh. Still raining. This is going to be a looooong haul till bedtime, folks!

The Good, the Bad, and the...Ugh-ly

A mixed bag today.

On the good team: (ooh, I think this is my first time with the bullets!)

• I started a new novel yesterday, and I'm really in love with the concept and characters so far. The plot arc is slowly emerging from the depths of my subconscious or wherever the hell these things come from, and the first chapter is written. Genre is young adult realistic fiction, and my protagonist is a fifteen-year-old boy. If it's any good, it should be marketable. (At least, if it doesn't take me five years to finish like my first novel did!)
  
• I sent out five more queries for my first novel, so I'm just plugging away at the list, taking care of business.


• Jabber and I went to see his very first movie today, like at the movie theater. We went to see The Spiderwick Chronicles, which was fun and scary and even got me a little teary-eyed when the boy and his mother have their emotional breakthrough moment. Jabber got a little promotional book or two in his Lucky Charms, so we read it out loud as a family, and he loved it. He promised not to be scared, but I had to admit that I was a little nervous when the goblins started popping out all over the place, so he was nice enough to let me hold his hand. And then he was even more generous and allowed me to have him sit on my lap.
• After the initial bathroom sink-trap excavation session onTuesday night, David dredged up the medicine dropper (both parts) that Monkey had stuck down the drain. However, the drain was still a bit sluggish, and then this morning I turned my back for five seconds to set out Jabberwock's clean underwear, and Monkey "dropped" his toothbrush down the hole. So once again, we (and by we I mean David, with the help of any kids I couldn't keep contained) pulled out the trap and started fishing around with a variety of tools, some commercially prepared for the job and others fashioned out of a metal coat hanger. The prize was a plastic bolt from a toy toolbox, and of course one nasty ass race car toothbrush. And, a drain that flows freely. As Monkey would say, "Ta DA!" Until tomorrow.
  
• Last good for today would be these two pictures that show just how much fun a four-year-old can have in about five inches of water.

The Bad

• We're all a little disappointed this evening. David got an offer for this job he's been interviewing for and whatnot, and they didn't want to pay him more than he's making right now. With the change in hours, we would end up with the boys in daycare for about twenty-five more hours a week, and that's just impossible on the same salary. So, even though he really likes the place and the work, he can't accept the position, not for a whole lot more pay. We figured it out, and even without taking into consideration the cost of gas, he'd need about six dollars more per hour. There are still some negotiations on the table, so who knows. But still, it's disappointing.



• Here's a picture of Monkey NOT enjoying the swimming pool. I don't know if it's the hand-me-down swim vest from Jabber's pink and purple period that isn't doing it for him, or if he's just against the whole concept of swimming, but he is clearly not happy. OH, wait. It could have been the TWENTY MINUTE nap today. Yeah, we'll file that one under Bad.

And last, we have The Ugh-ly:

Balancing the checkbook and paying the bills. Excuse me while I have an anxiety attack. Or, I could just keep on blogging!

Good News Abounding

Well, after my pissy little post tantrumming about my home, I thought I'd put together a bunch of good news, for the record.

Monkey's vocabulary is rapidly expanding. Although he is far from meeting or exceeding Jabber's huge vocabulary from the same age period, he has expanded a bit from his typical "dis," "dat," and "uh-oh" to include a few more words. For one thing, he has resumed saying "mama," and it even means other things besides "I'm hungry!" It makes me melt every time I hear him say it. Another vocab addition has the opposite effect on me: he has started saying "HIT!" which is followed by an enthusiastic smack, usually right across the face. Niiice. More constructive is his use of pointing to his mouth and saying "me eat," even though it does sometimes (humorously) come out as "eat me." :)

Jabberwock had a playdate, which is unusual, since I wasn't good at the whole dating thing the first time around, and since few of my friends have kiddos in his age range, it follows that he doesn't have a huge array of friends, either. But yesterday the two of us went to a local park to meet with a couple of siblings from his old daycare, and we all had a very nice time. Without Monkey along, I actually found myself able to converse with the other mom, which was super nice, and the kiddos played like crazy. We went for a little hike, had a picnic, and shared a sand cake, among other things. Jabber fell into the river a little bit (just his feet and one leg) while throwing stones and filling his bucket with water, and then he played in the sand for another hour or so. The result was a seriously happy kid with shoes I may just have to throw away.

Monkey took a blissful two-and-a-half-hour nap today, which allowed me to grade a bunch of papers and read a bunch of blogs.

We all ate a healthy lunch, which is wonderful since last night David brought home a pizza and jelly beans and I could not come up with a single reason on earth not to eat everything in sight.

Also, I found out today some interesting (to me, anyway) tidbits about Monkey's food preferences: Strawberries win out over all other food choices. Matchstick-cut carrots are second on the list, even winning out over string cheese and apple-cinnamon rice cakes. He will have nothing to do with meat of any kind (which we pretty much knew already, and since Big Brother is all about the meat like his dad, I have proposed a dual system of food preparation that made my husband almost threaten to ride off into the sunset alone. So I guess until I'm willing to do all the dual-meal cooking, I will continue to eat venison and poultry, or go hungry. Monkey still has his nummies, so he can take it or leave it.) Broccoli, even with yummy red pepper hummus on it, gets tossed onto the floor after one bite.

I was reading Parents magazine, an article about the sex lives of mothers (I know, I know), and it was about four moms who kept a five day journal about their sex lives (which seemed to me an awfully short period of time for a mom to document her sex life...but perhaps we need to step it up a notch around here, lol!). ANYWAY, both of the moms of infants were breastfeeding (yay!), and the mom of older kiddos said it wasn't abnormal for the kids to sleep in their bed. The fourth woman was still pregnant, so who knows. Anyway, good to see this in a really mainstream mag.

And Edited to Add: My last good news of the day was when I came downstairs in a little sundress, trudging reluctantly over to my stack of Shakespeare essays that need to be graded, and Jabberwock came skipping up to me and whispered in my ear, "Mama, do you know what? You look just like...a princess!" Then he kissed me on the cheek, without any begging from me or anything. This was especially nice since about an hour earlier he had informed me that he thought Daddy was the best daddy in the whole world, and he was pretty sure that his best buddy's mom (the one we saw yesterday on our playdate) was the best mommy in the world, and he was going to take Daddy and go live with her and his best buddy. Gosh, thanks, kid. I asked him what I was supposed to do without my two guys, and he shrugged. "You'll think of something," he said.

My Mothers' Day Gifts

My three boys gave me some terrific gifts today for Mothers' Day. The first, and probably most dear to me, was that David took the boys downstairs at 6:30 a.m. when they woke up and let me sleep all alone in the bed (pure bliss) until almost 9:00! This was after a long night of Monkey nursing at least once every twenty minutes, so it was definitely appreciated.

Then, I had the luxury of a bath, a wonderful French toast breakfast, and a parade of beautiful gifts, including a stained glass rain gauge for the backyard, flower seeds in case I manage to plant something this summer (would be a first), candy, and an interesting clay sculpture that The Jabberwock made at daycare, which he explained, "is like a clip for you hair, except it isn't."

As if all that weren't more than a mother could dream of, I also had the pleasure of being read to by The Jabberwock. The book was a little hard-cover novelty book for teachers, full of cute sayings or stories about being a teacher, probably a gift somewhere along the line from a student or parent.

That, however, didn't limit my little imagination man from telling me the story his way:

J: Once upon a time there were two green frogs, and they both wanted to go to the stream. And do you want to know what happens next, mom?

Me: Did they get to the stream?

J: Yeah. They got to the stream, and there was a Wake Woam!

Me: What’s a wakewoam?

J: A LAKE WORM, it’s a worm that lives in lakes and streams. And that's the end, 'cause it's a happy story. Isn't it a happy story, Mom? Would you like to hear another story, Mom? This one is about two frogs that lived 98 years from now. Wow, Mom! That’s when dinosaurs lived. Isn't that amazing? Imagine! 98 years from now there were dinosaurs and frogs! Want to hear another story? There’s a lot of stories in here.

Me: Yes, yes, read me another one.

J: (Reads some nonsense in a rhythm.)

Me: Sounds like poetry to me.

J: It is, and it’s GOOD poetry. (reads more nonsense poetry)

Me: Is there more to the story about the two green frogs?

J: The lake worm squirmed up close, and the two frogs died.

Me: I thought that was a happy story.

J: There isn’t any happy stories. They’re all for big kids. They’re for four year olds. Well, this area of the book, right here, these are nice stories. The two frogs, guess what they did?

Me: What?

J: A king came, and gave the two frogs some medicine. Then, the two frogs carefully awoken. Then the two frogs went to the river pond every single day. And they never saw any more Lake Worms. The end.

He told me a few more stories, and I began to work on correcting poetry my students had written. Later, he came over to read me a few more stories. This is what he said as he was rummaging through his book:

J: No, no, no, you don’t want one of the bad stories. Oh, OK, here we go...Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. But she was mean. What??? You don’t want to read that one! That’s a bad story, too! What is going on here? (mutters) The wonderful prince...came, and...Oh, no! I’m not reading THAT! I give up, these are all bad stories!

These amazing kids--they bring me daily to a state of wonder with their antics. They truly are the best gifts of all. This whole day is a gift to me, a reminder of the role I have earned in this life. Sometimes I get to feeling trapped by this role, wondering if I'll ever be able to be anything but a mother, if I'll ever have a moment to write, if I'll ever again sleep through the night, if I'll ever have time to fix my hair and buy cute clothes, if I'll ever have the freedom I used to have. I wonder if I'll ever be able to wrap my brain around complex issues again without feeling it split into pieces, some of which are making grocery lists and some of which are just now noticing that I'm in public with baby snot on the leg of my pants.

This role, motherhood, is not an easy badge to wear. It's heavy and heartbreaking.
But the joy it brings, the wonder and the laughter and the happy chaos--makes it the best role of all.
Happy Mothers' Day!