Mother May I…

My mother, grandmother and my niece.

I originally posted this back in December of 2011. But I think it’s much more fitting now. Happy Mother’s Day, Ma!

My mother wants me to have a baby. Am I married? No. But that seems to be a minor detail at this point. I think she would be totally fine if I stole a baby from the hospital as long as she had something cute to spoil. We fight about this at least once a month.

“I want to have grandchildren. From you,” she says as she pokes me in the belly. ”When are you going to start thinking about it?”

“I don’t want children right now. I’m only twenty-six. I haven’t even been to Europe yet!”

“You’ve got it wrong. It’s only eighteen. It’s not only twenty-six. You’re getting old.”

Then my brother chimes in. “You know she’s never going to have a baby, mom. She’s too mean.”

Another one says, “I’ll give you lots of grandkids, ma. When do you want me to start?”

We all look at him in horror, knowing that he should not procreate anytime soon.

“But seriously, Jamie. What about that guy you were dating? He had a good job and you two would make such cute fat babies.”

“But, he was an arrogant jerk and he was weirdly close to his mother.”

She shrugs and says, “That’s small potatoes. We need to think of the big picture here.”

My mother is clearly insane.

She cusses like a truck driver, is thinner than me and always takes every opportunity to embarrass me by dancing in public but I love her. And one day I plan to capture of her crazy awesomeness in writing.

I like writing about mothers and will often model my fictional ones after real people in my life. (Thank goodness I don’t know too many normal people.) I feel like moms are some of the hardest characters to develop because just like in real life their personality shapes the way their children behave and the choices they make.

So here are a few of my favorite fictional mothers.

1. Claire Huxtable… She was a lawyer. She had five children, dealt with her wacky husband and kept that brownstone in Brooklyn spotless. She was like wonder woman or wonder mother.

2. Roseanne… Her house was a little more realistic. She was loud and brash and working class. But mostly importantly she was funny and I have to respect that.

3.  Joan Crawford… Okay, so she was a real person. But that movie Mommie Dearest made her seem other worldly and till this day I screech, “No wire hangers,” whenever I see one.

4. Amy Duncan… This dancing, singing, scene stealing Disney Channel mother cracks me up. She reminds me of my own mother. Amy never takes a backseat to her husband and I love that.

5. Colleen Donaghy (30 Rock) … She demanding, slightly evil, mean and I love her.

As for books I really like Posey’s mother, in Kristan Higgins Until There Was You. Who wouldn’t like a fluffy German mother who tried to fatten you up with comforting food. Sophie from Sophie’s Choice ( it was a book before it was a movie). Could you imagine making that choice?  And Cealie from The Color Purple. She put up with a lot of crap but still came out on top in the end.

Your turn! Like your mother? Hate her?  What’s she like? Got a favorite fictional mother? Tell us about her. Any and all comments are welcome.

 

Why I’m Thankful Every Day…

Hi.  You guys know me as author J Monkeys, but as I sat down to write Saturday’s blog post, I knew that I had to do something a little different from my usual tongue-in-cheek rant because in addition to being a children’s author, I’m also a mom of very young school children.  My name is Jennifer Moncuse, and I live in Connecticut.

I live just about as far from Newtown CT as our tiny state will allow, but my twins will be starting kindergarten next year.  I have a second grader at home as well and today’s horrifying news of the heartless slaughter of innocents and innocence, practically in my own backyard, has shaken me.  I cried through some of the news coverage late this afternoon, watching on the sly because I don’t want my preschoolers to hear about children being killed at school.  How could I possibly talk with them about this in a way that they will understand when I don’t understand it myself?  I don’t think it is something that is understandable.

I had been planning to write next week’s post, due out 12-22-12, about why it was all right with me if the world ended on Friday, but I’m switching up the order and the slant because for a lot of people the world ended today.

In addition to sending my most heartfelt prayers to the families of those who lost so much today, I wanted to take a moment to be thankful for the wonderful things in my own life.

• I’m thankful for my wonderful, healthy children, their laughter, their genuine-ness, the opportunity to teach them about the world.
• I’m thankful for my incredible partner in this life, for his kindness, his sensitivity to others, his willingness to be responsible for 50% of everything, and for loving me just as I am.
• I’m thankful for my family – drama and all, I wouldn’t swap any of you with anyone else, no matter the reason.
  
• I’m thankful for my dear friends who really know me and accept me without reservation.

As I thought about all the other things I’m grateful for, especially the things, I decided that they didn’t really matter.  The house, the car, the job.  Maybe it’s easy for me to say that having a roof over my head doesn’t really matter, because I have the luxury of saying it under said roof.  There’s probably a lot of truth to that.  But on a night like this one, it doesn’t make the list, except as a safe haven for my kids.

Here’s my secret for today: However you understand God (as a him, a her, a them, or an it) take a moment to say “Thank you” for all the important things in your life, whatever or whomever they might be.   Hug your loved ones tightly and remember to tell them often how much you love them.  That way you’ll be ready when the world ends, no matter if it’s next Friday or more likely, some other day when you least expect it.

I’m Number One

Hey, my peeps, Suze here. Welcome!

Today I thought I’d talk about something a bit more serious than my usual offerings (What? More serious than giant pumpkins and my summer vacation? Yup!)

Do you make your health, both physical and mental, a priority?

As writers and readers we do A LOT of sitting at the computer. It takes time, large blocks of it, with our butts slowly expanding and fusing to the upholstery, to write and do all the other things associated with it: planning, plotting, storytelling, editing/revising, critiquing other people’s work, submitting (hopefully selling), reading widely, blogging, getting together with writer friends to share the journey, attending meetings of professional groups and serving those groups, attending conferences; the list goes on and on and on. And let’s face it–many of those things are fun!

But these “activities” are not very active, and they often involve copious quantities of caffeine, chocolate, Deep River Salt & Vinegar potato chips, and wine. What they so often don’t involve is … I’m gonna say a dirty word here, so get ready … exercise.

I know I’m guilty of living in my head and finding every excuse in the book (haha! “in the book!” Get it?) not to take care of myself. As women we are trained and ingrained to put others first. We care for our families, we reach out to help others, we volunteer, and we love/live to be needed.  That’s what makes us women and that’s great! But the flipside is that if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. And it’s hard to be happy when you’re overextended, out of shape, and out of time.

So today, I’m asking you to do something to take care of yourself. Just one little thing. Go take a long walk (if you load an audio book on your phone, iPod or MP3 player, you get to double dip!). Make one better food choice — a fresh, crunchy apple instead of a bag of processed (yet crunchy!) Fritos. Think about giving up an outside obligation (or at least give yourself a day off from it). Tomorrow, repeat.

And for goodness’ sake, if you haven’t scheduled your yearly physical and annual boob-squishing (mammogram), make that the one thing you do today and pick up the phone. The procedure is uncomfortable, but it won’t kill you. Not getting it done might.

Hugs and love to all of you out there.

Do you have trouble putting yourself first? How do you take care of yourself?

Save the Liver! Happy Birthday, Julia Child!

Bon jour, my darlings! Suze here.

Yesterday was a special day. Julia Child would have turned 100 years old on August 15, 2012.

I said, “Dance!”

I grew up watching reruns of Julia on WGBY. Our small town in the boondocks didn’t have a lot of stations until later in my illustrious television-viewing career, so public television it was. Even as a kid, I understood on some level the magic that Julia had. In my real-life experience, women cooked to put food on the table and keep the kids and menfolk satisfied. It was a chore (granted, my grandmother on the dairy farm had ten children, and my mother was the oldest daughter–so they were cooking for and cleaning up after a small army three times a day). They did not enjoy it.

Then along came Julia, a six-foot-two preppie wearing an industrial-looking dress and pearls, wielding a giant cleaver, gleefully making a dead chicken dance on the small screen. Her joy came through, just short of palpable, for more than 30 years.

She inspired me to learn to cook something beyond the basics my mother produced for our family of seven. (One of Mom’s specialties was “Spanish Rice,” which consisted of hamburger browned with onion, cooked Minute Rice, and a jar of spaghetti sauce. Not sure where the “Spanish” part came into play)

In my adulthood, as I understood more of Julia’s story, my admiration for her grew. A child of privilege, she worked in Europe for the OSS, met and married Paul Child, the love of her life, and trained at the Cordon Bleu in Paris as a chef when women simply did not do such things. If you haven’t seen the movie Julie and Julia, do it now! The Julie storyline is completely forgettable (sorry, Amy Adams!), but Meryl Streep’s performance as Julia Child is nothing short of mind-boggling.

Here’s a link to the Smithsonian’s virtual exhibit on Julia Child. You can hear that famous warbly voice, see her kitchen recreated, and even look at some of the individual tools and gadgets she used.

And click here to watch one of the funniest parodies of all time: Dan Aykroyd playing The French Chef. Julia Child was said to have loved this so much that she kept a VHS tape of it. Note: you may want to watch this after breakfast!

So, in honor of her birthday, how about a small gift for all of you loyal readers? Here is my Secret French Toast recipe. No liver required. Bon appetit!

Suze’s French Toast

6 slices white bread (potato bread is delicious, if you can find it)

2 eggs

1/4 cup milk or half and half

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1/2 tsp. vanilla (orange or almond extract is also delicious)

1 tsp. cinnamon

In a shallow bowl or pie plate, mix up the eggs, milk/half and half, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon. No need to drag out the mixer–a fork or whisk works fine. Dip the bread into the egg mixture, coating both sides. Don’t leave it to soak too long, or the bread will fall apart when you try to take it out.

Preheat an electric griddle or a skillet on the stove. Medium heat is best. Plop on a generous glob of butter. You want it sizzly, but not burning.

Take the bread slices out of the egg mixture, let them drain a bit, and place them on the griddle or skillet. Cook until golden brown and fragrant on one side (usually takes a couple of minutes), then flip and cook for another minute or two on the other side.

Serve with lots more butter, real maple syrup, and some berries or sliced bananas.

Time Management for Writers by Author, Mary Manners…AND AMAZON GIVEAWAY!

Hello, Katy Lee here with author, Mary Manners! Mary is an award-winning author of inspirational romance who lives in the beautiful foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee with her husband and daughter. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America and Smoky Mountain Romance Writers. In her free time, she likes to garden, take long walks with her husband, and read romance novels in a hammock beneath century-old shade trees.

BUT she also likes to help other authors along the way. And today she is here to share some pointers on Time Management…something we all need, for sure.

And don’t forget to enter Mary’s Tour Wide Giveaway for her latest release, The Wisdom Tree. Rafflecopter – each entrant from each blog stop will be entered into a grand giveaway for a chance to win one of the two prizes up for grabs – a $50 Gift Card (Amazon/BN – winners choice) and  a print set of your (5) books (Wisdom Tree when it debuts in October). Winners will be chosen August 14th.

Now tell us, Mary, about Time Management!!

Thanks, Katy and Scribes for having me today! As a woman who shares time as a wife, mother, teacher and author, I am well-versed in the importance and benefits of time management. How many of us have wished for just one more hour in the day? Well, if you were granted that hour, what would you do with it? It sure is something to ponder.

Over the past several years I’ve uncovered and honed a few simple writing strategies (on the business/marketing side) that work for me. Maybe they will work for you, as well:

1. Make a list: I make a list each evening for the following day, jotting down things I need to do. This way my mind is clear when I go to sleep (fertile for dreaming up new characters and plot lines…yum). Using a list also gives me a sense of accomplishment as I mark off each item.

2. Keep a calendar: I map out tasks by day, week, month and year. This includes writing deadlines, release dates, promotional commitments and marketing opportunities, blog posts, speaking engagements, etc. Keeping a calendar also creates a record of my writing time and activities for tax purposes.

3. Create folders: This includes both virtual and hard copies. I separate my emails into folders for ads and invoices, submissions, supplies purchased, newsletters, etc. I also keep a hard copy of everything submission or tax-related, in separate folders. I have learned that it takes less time to be organized than it does to hunt for something I need and can’t find.

4. Keep a hard copy of every submission, with notes and details, so you can easily refer back to what has been sent. I use expandable file folders to do this, and keep them together on a shelf in the order they were submitted.

This is just a short list of some of the writing-related strategies that have helped me. Now, I’d love to hear some of your strategies. Please, share…

Thank you, Mary for these great pointers! And readers, please do share your time management strategies.

You can keep in touch with Mary at her Website:  http://www.marymannersromance.com/

And don’t forget to enter the Give Away!!!

CLICK HERE: a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Book Review — The Uninvited Guests by Sadie Jones

Hey, Scribelings! Suze here. So glad you could join us today! First things first: Sister Scribe Casey Wyatt’s latest book, The Undead Space Initiative, releases today from Pink Petal Books. This is a genre-busting story that you won’t be able to put down. Hot paranormal sex on a cold planet–don’t miss it!

So let me tell you about another book I just finished reading. The Uninvited Guests by Sadie Jones.  Don’t you just love the cover? Well I adored this book.  Check out the first line:

Since her marriage to Edward Swift, three years after the sudden death of her first husband Horace Torrington, Charlotte had changed her position at the breakfast table in order to accommodate her new husband’s needs: specifically, aiding him in the spreading of toast and cutting of meat, owing to his having suffered the loss of his left arm at the age of twenty-three in an unfortunate encounter wth the narrow wheels of a speeding gig, out of which he had fallen on the driveway of his home in County Wicklow.

Yes, that is one long sentence, and it breaks pretty much every rule we’ve ever been taught about hooking the reader and not inserting any backstory.

But Suze, you say. At least I know what the story’s going to be about. It has a Downtown Abbey feel about it. Poor Charlotte! Changing her position at the breakfast table is a metaphor for her life–she never puts herself first but always sees to the needs of others. She’s longing to express herself, on her own terms. Perhaps by the end of the book, she’ll take up painting, or writing, or find herself a young lover to fulfill her physical needs.  Did any of these things come to mind for you?

Well, I’m here to tell you that you’d be dead wrong, on all counts.

The Uninvited Guests is the story of Charlotte, her children Emerald, Clovis, and Imogen (Smudge) Torrington, and the way they spend the 24 hours of Emerald’s 20th birthday. The one-armed Edward Swift departs for town to try to borrow enough money to keep Sterne, the Torrington’s rambling old house, operating. Meanwhile, preparations are afoot for Emerald’s birthday dinner, to which her mother has invited John, a rich suitor (who could of course save them financially if Emerald can only decide to like him), as well as Emerald and Clovis’s childhood friends, Patience and Ernest.

Awful news arrives in the form of a telephone call. There’s been a train derailment nearby, and Sterne is the closest place where the traumatized passengers can be sheltered until the railway people can come and collect them up and send them on their way. The passengers begin to arrive and are herded into the morning room, while the cook and her assistant labor to complete the multicourse birthday dinner.

One of the passengers stands out from the crowd: Charlie Traversham-Beechers, a jovial, forceful gentleman who manages to wrangle an invitation to the birthday party. Charlotte and the housekeeper, Mrs. Trieves, take one look at him and gasp in horror: Clearly Charlie and Charlotte have a past, but she doesn’t want her children to know about it so she allows him to stay.

Once Charlie shows up, all hell breaks loose and the pacing never lets up. There’s a particularly awful parlor game which brings out the absolute worst in everyone. I can’t say much more because I really, truly do not want to spoil the surprises in this story for you.

Will Charlie ruin Charlotte by revealing their history? Will Smudge succeed in her Great Undertaking? Will Emerald save Sterne by accepting the wealthy John Buchanan? Who will lose her/his virginity with a particularly unlikely character?

By the end, everything is neatly wrapped up — some might say too neatly, but it absolutely suits the story, which would make a wonderful play. I will be first in line for tickets if someone decides to produce it.

What about you? Have you read anything that surprised you lately?

Honor Thy Mother

Happy Mother’s Day, Katy Lee here, and in lieu of Mother’s Day, I thought I would share a bit about my heroine’s mom in my Inspirational-Romantic-Suspense, Real Virtue. (FYI-I did post this on Sandra Orchard’s blog last month, sorry if you’ve already read it.)

I’m especially excited to give a little more insight into Arlene Mesini’s character because Arlene was influenced by my own mother. You see, like my mom, Arlene suffers from the horrible brain disease, Schizophrenia. When I set out to write Real Virtue, I did not plan for Arlene to have this disease. Never in my wildest imagination did I think my story would link up with it either, but during my research of online virtual-reality gaming I came across an avatar with this affliction. You see, in Real Virtue, my heroine is a gamer who takes her pastime a little too far. She is living a life that is a bit removed from reality…just like her mother. But in Mel’s case, she has the choice.

It was during my research that I found this video of what a day in the life of a schizophrenic person is like, and in watching this video I knew I had found my heroine’s mother—and the perfect conflict for Mel to face.

A conflict I understood very well.

I’m going to be honest here and say, growing up with someone who has this disease is extremely difficult, and it took me a long time to understand my mother’s pain, but more importantly, to accept her as she is. If I was ever to have a relationship with her, I needed to stop trying to escape from the reality of the situation, (excuse the pun) and get to know her.

And the same goes for Mel.

So, once Arlene was “born,” I knew I had an opportunity to take it one step further and honor my own mom through her. I dedicated Real Virtue to my mom as the strongest person I know. I can only hope Arlene does her justice.

The Unlocked Secret That’s Not Really a Secret: Happy Mother’s Day to all you mom’s out there! Being a mom is the most important thing you will ever do. Take pride in it. You are shaping the world and you ARE making a difference. And remember to honor your own mom today. She, too, made a difference.

Question: So since we’re sharing, tell me something about your mother. But remember, keep it honoring.

Adventures in Trumptown

Hey, Scribelets! Has another week gone by already? It’s Suze again. I just got back from a four-day weekend in Atlantic City, so I thought I’d share what I learned:

Casinos Smell Bad.  No matter what kind of air purification system is in place, nothing gets rid of the smell of cigarette smoke.

Casinos Are Not Full of Beautiful Rich People. This is a James Bond Hollywood myth. There was no Sean Connery in a perfectly fitted tuxedo allowing a stunning woman in an evening gown to choose Roulette numbers for him. There were plenty of people dressed in sweatshirts and jeans. In fact, and I’m not just flattering myself, I was one of the youngest and most glam people around. Hey! Who just snorted coffee out her/his nose? I’ll have you know I did something with my hair and put on makeup and a cute jacket every day. (Shhhh, don’t tell Footwear Diva Jamie Pope this, but I alternately wore Skechers sneakers and a pair of those butt-toning shoes the whole time! Now, if she had let me borrow her gladiator sandals, I might have gotten a pedi and sacrificed comfort for style!).

Not One Single Sighting of The Donald. Or any other famous person, for that matter, except the poster for the drag show featuring guys dressed like Cher, Joan Rivers, Patti LaBelle and … Prince. Which seemed oxymoronish — a guy, dressed like Prince, in a female impersonator show. Or maybe more like a dude, playing a dude, disguised as another dude. I’m still trying to get my head around that one. And the show wasn’t even playing while we were there, so I guess I’ll never figure that one out.

Shrunken Heads Are Easier to Make Than You Might Think. One visit to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum, and I feel pretty confident I could do it. All you need are some hot rocks, sand, and boiling water laced with plants containing tannins (tea or walnuts, perhaps?). Oh yes, and a head. Which, according to my son, “is the hard part.”

I Am Not Much Of A Gambler. I didn’t drop any money at all into the one-armed bandits the entire weekend. Is that a collective gasp I hear? Oh, I’ve got nothing against responsible gambling, and I planned to do some myself at some point. But Mr. Suze was at a conference most of the time, and my son was with me (and not quite old enough to be left to his own devices in a casino complex). Mom that I am, it just never happened.

However, on the last day, we’d grown weary of walking the celebrity-free Boardwalk. We still had a couple of hours to kill before we were scheduled to leave, so we followed about a thousand seniors into the Giant Bingo game and stood in the back, intending to watch for a while. Somebody always wins at Bingo (and we hadn’t seen a single person win a dime down on the casino floor), so there was guaranteed to be some excitement.

An adorable elderly man (Danny, whom I later learned had some vision deficiencies), approached my son and asked if he could come and play Bingo for his friend, who hadn’t shown up for the game. He didn’t want to let the extra cards go to waste, and the “authorities” apparently don’t let a person play two sets of cards at once. I gently explained that my son was not of age and could not play.

I had great fun losing with all my new friends!

Danny then asked if I would do the honors. My son assured me he would be fine in the back of the room, so I dutifully took my place at a table full of lively seniors who’d come in from Boston on a bus trip. I didn’t win, even though the sweet lady who sat next to me helped me watch my cards so I didn’t miss anything. They play some complicated games that I, with my grade school Bingo education, needed a bit of help with. Danny, perhaps overcome with grief at my not winning, did not stick around afterward, but my new friends allowed me to take their picture for the blog. When I offered to take down their e-mail addresses and send them links, my ladies shook their heads. “We don’t have e-mail, dear.” Maybe not, but they were having a great time on their adventure. And so did I.

How about you? Had any adventures lately? Have you taken a gamble on something?

The Family Memoir

Several years ago, my cousin’s youngest daughter got married in a fabulous setting deep in the heart of PA — it was a living Andrew Wyeth painting:  a sparkling pond, rolling green hills, deep blue sky, old red barn silhouetted against the blaring hot sun, a rustic stable opened to provide a dance floor and seating where you could take the barbeque that was served on the adjacent side porch.  A little stone house where the bride had the privacy to dress.  A hundred friends and family, kids running around, playing ball, playing games.  People rocking out on the lawn.

And there I was, sitting with my husband, thinking:  this perfect day, when, maybe, someone is found dead in the pond;  or maybe that little girl in the yellow dress disappears and someone doesn’t want the mother-in-law to write the family memoir.

Honestly, it was the best wedding ever.

And subsequently, a couple of years later, my cousin asked if I’d like to read those memoirs, with his mother-in-law’s permission.  This was such a privilege.  The author is in her 90‘s;  she wrote about 28 single spaced pages.  Her voice, dry, humorous, pragmatic, came through so clearly. And there was so much more under the surface that I wanted to know. And I wanted so much more of HER — her reactions, her responses, her true feelings.

What a gift to her family, that she’s able to translate her memories into words.  I told her all this when I wrote back, and that I hoped she’d continue to add to the memoir, more of her, more of what she experienced, what she felt. I had particularly strong feelings about it because now that my parents, and aunts and uncles are gone, there’s no one left who knows all my family history.  And no one who had the wont, the patience or the will to write it all down. They were children of immigrants who’d had unspeakable childhoods and just didn’t want to talk about it — ever. So a first wife we were never aware of, a brother whom no one knew was really the child of a first marriage, a runaway child, — all nebulous stories dredged up through cryptic statements over the years which told no more than that.

I was struck forcibly that I knew nothing, really, about our grandparents in either family.  We do have my maternal grandfather’s immigration papers from which we make inferences and piece together some of the story,  but dad’s history remains opaque: I know his mother came from Romania to join her sister in America.  She was the second wife of a man with two children. Her husband died very early in the marriage after she bore him four children.  She never wanted to talk about any of it.

My sons know everything about their dad and me, but I never thought, maybe never maybe could envision a time when my parents wouldn’t be there to answer questions.  And for some reason, one never asked.  Later, when I got curious, my mom didn’t much want to talk about it either.  Or claimed she didn’t remember.

I now have a bound booklet of those memoirs, complete with pictures.  How lucky my cousin is that his mother-in-law decided to talk about her life in a concrete and lasting way.  It inspired him.  He now wants to aggregate as much of our maternal family’s history as possible.  I’m happy he wants to take on that pleasurable task and I‘m hoping he can fill in some of the blanks.

But better than that, it leaves me (selfishly) free to contemplate the fictional problem of who was killed at the wedding and the even greater pleasure of writing it..

As you can see, I’m obsessed by my family’s history now. What about your family?  Is someone writing a history? Researching the family tree?  Have you ever been at an event where you were plotting fictional murders while talking to your husband’s boss or a relative you hadn’t seen in years?

Thea Devine is the author whose books defined erotic historical romance for which she was honored as a Romance Pioneer by Romantic Times.  The Darkest Heart, Pocket/Gallery, June 2011 is her 25^th novel. Visit http://www.theadevine.com for excerpt and video.

Get Your R & R

Hello Scribblers, J here.  Happy Saturday to you all.  I’m going to ask Casey or Susannah to reply to your comments on my behalf because….dum da da daaaaaaa…I’m away today.  Yes, this is the weekend when I abandon all of my other hats, and just be me.

Are you unfamiliar with my hats?  Check out this post from November when they all fell off.  Basically, I’m a mom/wife first, author second and everything else falls to a distant third place.  The woman that I was before I acquired all those other hats is in there somewhere, but often buried under the hat tree.

I was lucky enough to have a few years (back in my mid-twenties) to do whatever I wanted.  I had no responsibilities other than to pay my bills, small as they were.  I would lounge around all day (on weekends) and read, or go to a movie or do crafty things.  That’s me, that’s what I like to do.  Of course I love all of my other responsibilities too, but sometimes those hats get heavy.  Do you ever wish you could shake them off, just for a few minutes?

Six years ago, I started going to an annual scrapbooking weekend retreat in January.  I love it.  I leave early Friday morning and come home late Sunday night.  No kids, no dishes, no cooking, no diapers, no housework.  Just 3 days of crafting.  I look forward to this event all year.  I’ve made some friends that I see just at this event.  I love it.

I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for two and a half years now.  I knew that I wouldn’t be sitting around eating bon bons all day, but I didn’t know that this would be the toughest job I ever had.  And in addition to the lack of pay check, there’s no annual review or bonus to tell me how well I’m doing.  Just the same routine every day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year.  I think that might be the definition of drudgery.  

But the thing I’ve learned over the last couple of years is that it is VERY important to take some time for myself, separate from writing time.  Writing is my part-time job that hopefully is going to pay financial rewards some day.  It’s a good thing for me to take time to make myself happy, to refill myself with patience and creativity.  It’s good for me, it’s good for my kids and it’s good for my husband.

I’m not abandoning my boys when I take one weekend off a year, and a day a month, too.  I’m teaching them that Mom is a person who has hopes and dreams and works to find the time to make those dreams come true.  That it’s important to do so.  And I’m giving them a tremendous gift: time just with Daddy.  Daddy works hard all week and only gets to spend an hour with them each day before it’s their bedtime.  More on the weekends, of course, but still.  Other moms at the retreat call home every few hours to see what the kids are doing with dad.  Are they eating healthy?  Staying away from the TV?  That’s not for me.  I call at bedtime to say goodnight and that’s it.  It’s not Daddy’s first rodeo.  If he wants to feed them McDonald’s 3 times a day (he doesn’t) for 3 days once a year, it won’t hurt ‘em.  If he wants to get them all sugared up right before bed, well, it’s his funeral – what do I care?  I’m not there to worry about it.

Today’s secret: It’s important for you to take time for yourself, doing something you want to do.  It’s good for you and those who depend on you.

Today’s question: How do you pamper yourself?