So Very Sad

Let me tell you how sad I am this morning...I can't find my camera.

Now, let me tell you how happy I am that this is the only thing I'm sad about today.

But because I can't find my camera I can't upload pictures of my beautiful children. I have gone Thanksgiving, decorating the tree, and now Fremont's Holiday Parade without any pics of Ellie's firsts! And I'm close to having a panic attack. I'm already behind on Mena's scrapbook (please don't ever let on that I STILL haven't scrapped her first birthday and have to get pics from Aunt Allie to boot). But now I'm REALLY behind on Ellis. And I love that little sweetie pie and want to scrap it!

Ellis is my pretty, pretty princess. Mena I've always called my little pink princess and now we have a pretty, pretty princess. She totally rocks our house! When she makes noises to be fed at 3 in the morning, you go to get her, and she's kicking and giggling. No joke! It's hard not to like those early mornings when she makes them so pleasant. She only screams when she's super hungry. And well heck, that just makes her a Wylykanowitz...

It's funny, but all she asked from Santa was a cropper hopper 24 drawer scrapbook organizer. And that lucky girl is going to get it! She whispered in my ear to tell Santa that her greatest Christmas wish is to help Momma clean up her supplies so that she can have a super duper baby book.

But I can't find my camera!

Her Ruby Slippers

So I've finally started working on a story that's been percolating for over a year. And Stephen King says that you shouldn't share ANYTHING that you write until you have finished and done an initial editing, but....

Here it is. The story is about a woman who is looking for herself again after 15 years of marriage and two kids.

Her Ruby Slippers

Chapter 2:

When Taylor was around five, she asked me, “Mommy, is Daddy your prince?” Of course I said yes. What do you say? “Well actually sweetie, River Pheonix was my prince, but because of a particularly stressful, college freshman, dying mother, day I led your father astray under the stars in the back of his pickup truck. I used the line that I was so cold that March night and needed his body heat. I was real smooth honey and now my prince forgets to take off his black socks when he changes into shorts after work.”

It makes me smile to myself when we receive wedding invitations that say things like, “Now I marry my best friend”. Really? Does he just love to go shopping with you and listen to you prattle on about weight loss/gain and the fashion industry’s vanity sizing? Can you just not wait until he gives every last minute detail of his fantasy football team and his standings in the league comprising of every known male relative in a tri-state area? Because honey, that’s marriage.

If you’re real lucky you might like a couple of the same shows in which you will belabor plot and character to death just to avoid the boredom of talking about the kids…again. So if you’re truthful that invite should read, “Today I marry someone I think is relatively attractive and who isn’t repulsed by me”. And when the gods look favorably on you and your significant other, ten years down the road you can say, “I’m married to a great guy who is sometimes the only person who is friendly to me when I’ve been acting like a real shit”. I love Tom. And thank heaven for “Law & Order” or I’d have to hear about every single old lady patient who forgot to turn up her hearing aid, and I’d be left to anecdotes from the produce section.

p.s. Jacob LOVES karate, Mena is still in heaven as our little ballerina, and Ellie is a giggling, smiling doll who is just the joy of our home. Will post pics very soon. Really looking forward to BGSU's writers weekend, Winter Wheat, tomorrow. Here's to crossing my fingers that I got my 1st pick for classes.

What is a blog?

I never wrote further about Mena's dancing, because the last time I posted it wanted to underline everything. And I couldn't have that.

I have been so restless lately. I'm just a bundle of nerves. I've restarted Weight Watchers again because of a friend's little girl who asked when the other baby is going to come out of my tummy. My friend thought this was cute and passed it on thinking I would laugh the same way. I didn't. I smiled for her sake, and have been just furious inside. Mad at her for passing along something hurtful, and mad at myself for just not taking care of something that has bothered me ever since it was brought to my attention in the fourth grade that I'm soft. I have spent the first half of my life eating as a way to...survive? Emotionally? I don't know, but I don't want to waste the second half like this.

Another thing that's taking up useful brain cells is my writing, or lack there of. I have excused myself for not working on my craft by writing (usually) witty little notes on facebook. I've also not blogged because these fb sentences have felt creative enough. But there not. Of course there not. Nobody pays you and publishes your facebook sentences. I'm constantly whining about my financial situation (which drives my husband ABSOLUTELY bonkers! I might add) but at the same time I don't want a "real" job. I want to be a writer. I want to publish and walk in literary circles. I want to be a visiting professor at universities, discussing the actual craft of fiction. The importance of setting, character and plot. The boring yet pivitol need for well maintained sentence structure. How varying sentences size and style lends itself to a reader's understanding of character.

So it's 5:43 a.m. and I'm thrilled because I've gotten up the second day in a row before the gym to work on writing. But instead I signed up for BGSU's annual writer's weekend next week. I hope I get all my first choices for workshops, I'm very excited. And now it's time to go work out and be proud of time well spent, blogging and FB-ing. The novel will just have to wait until tomorrow...again.