What are you so afraid of?

My daughter went through a phase where we'd watch Disney's "Frozen" several times a day. (thank heavens that phase has mostly passed!)  One of the lines in that movie that always got stuck in my head was when Anna asked her sister "What are you so afraid of?"  I've been contemplating this line the last few days as it became glaringly apparent to me that it's something I need to consider.

 Here's the problem, I am only 4 chapters away from the end of my book.  I have rough drafted, plot charted, character analyzed, first edited, and now I'm only 4 chapters away from my second edit being finished.  I promised myself that once I finished my second edit the time would come to start querying, that was three weeks ago.  Those four chapters are still un-second-edited.  Why?  I came to the realization when I was talking with a friend that the reason those chapters are sitting unedited is because I'm afraid.  I am A.F.R.A.I.D. but why?  Like Anna said "What are you so afraid of?"

I guess what it boils down to is I'm still holding onto the lingering insecurities of youth, what if no one likes it?  What if its not good enough, thereby I'm not good enough?  I'm afraid that this brain child that I have so lovingly held onto for so long will be completely dismantled.  Can I stand to see that happen?  Can I let 4+ years of work go into the big bad world and be beaten up?  Can I handle the rejection since I will inevitably be rejected several times?  ARGH!!!!  Why can't this just be easy?

So here I sit contemplating my own insecurities.  How do I overcome it?  Man I need to work on those four chapters...

Pet Project Part 2

There is more that happens before this but here is part 2 of what I'm willing to share:

The first day of school dawned way too soon and I made sure to wake up bright and early in order to look the best I could.  I had my cutest outfit set out the night before, my new makeup sitting on my dresser, and my curling iron hot and ready to curl my mop. I brushed my teeth then  jumped in the shower and ran through the usual routine.  When I got to the body wash part instead of coming out in a smooth coil like always, nothing hit my loofa. 

“What in the world?”  I put the bottle up to my eye and tried to peek into the small hole in the top.  I couldn’t see anything so I put a little pressure on the sides of the container, still nothing.  I squeezed it a little harder but still nothing.  I shook it hoping the contents would shift to the bottom I looked into the hole again this time the contents spilled out all over my hair, my face, and my neck.  I spit trying to get it off of my mouth.  I scrubbed furiously at my hair hoping to get the goop out but only managed to be remotely successful. 

There was a loud banging on the door, “Allison!  Allison!  Stop primping some of us need to get in there.”

“I’m almost done.”  I yelled.

“Not almost, you are done!  Get out now!”  I recognized it as Luke’s voice.

Grrrr….  Boys just don’t get it.  I took one last swoop at my hair hoping to get the last of the body wash out.  I wrapped my hair in a towel and threw on my bathrobe, I threw the door open angrily glaring at my brother on the other side.  “Some people need to learn patience.” I growled.

“Some people need to learn that no matter how much they shower they’ll still never get rid of that stench!” he stuck his tongue out at me.  “Besides, I’m the senior this year, I think I am the one who needs to look the best today.”  And with that he shut the door behind him. 

I huffed off to my room sitting at my makeshift makeup table and started the morning paint job; lotion, foundation, powder, blush, primer, eyeshadow, liner, mascara, and the most important step last lipgloss!!  I puckered up admiring the gorgeous shade of pink that I had managed to snag the previous day at the mall, it had been the last one on the shelf so I felt it had been a sign of my luck.  That feeling didn’t last long though when I pulled the towel off my head. 

“Oh my gosh!!!”  my hair sat in oily wisps on my shoulders, I ran my fingers through it hoping that maybe, just maybe, it was an optical illusion.  It wasn’t.  Putting my fingers in it only made it abundantly clear that the body wash had made my fresh clean hair an oily mess.  I grabbed the blow dryer and ran it over my head for a solid ten minutes all the while praying that it would only look a little greasy but to no avail.  The hair was bone dry and I looked like I had stuck my head into a fry vat at the local fast food joint. “You have got to be kidding me!” I looked up to the fates, “come on this is supposed to be my year!  Can I catch a break for just one day?”

Just as I was expressing my fury to the higher powers Luke walked by my open door wrapped in his own bathrobe. “Whoa!  What do you call that look, grease ball?” he laughed walking away. 

I cursed under my breath.   This couldn’t be happening again, I should have never tempted the fates this way.  I grabbed the curling iron wrapping a strand of hair around it but when I pulled it out nothing happened, the hair just fell limp and soggy at my shoulders, I cursed under my breath as I wrapped the iron around my hair again.  Surely if I kept the iron in there longer it would curl, I held it in twice as long as I normally would then started to smell something, a burning smell.  “Oh no!” I pulled the iron from my hair but it was too late, the ends of the hair were completely fried.  “Gawwwww!!!” I yowled.

“What’s the matter?” my mother rushed to the door poking her head in, “where’s the fire?” (a standard catch phrase for a mother with nine children.)

“My hair, the fire’s in my hair!” I held the strand out for her to see.  She walked over and held the burned hair in her hand. 

“Only one thing to do” she reached into my makeup table drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors.

“No! No!  There has to be another way.”  I tried to back away from her.

“There isn’t.” and with that she snipped the end off leaving me with a butchered look. 

“My life is ruined.” I exhaled.

The Pet Project

I've been furiously doing a first edit on my fantasy novel and tonight I realized that I needed a little break from death and gloom (yes there is quite a bit of that in this particular novel) so I went back to a pet project that I had started many years ago.  It's a semi-autobiographical novel from the perspective of a 16 year old.  Here's just a snippet:

That day should have been the first indicator that the rest of my life would be miserable but my parents didn’t give me any kind of warning about it so I stumbled on through life just thinking that bad fortune was bound to be my curse! 

                In the first grade I remember that curse really kicking into high gear.  Our school was holding a square dancing tournament (yeah that’s the type of town I lived in!) and they were pairing all the kids off with partners.  I sat in that classroom and anxiously waited to find out who my partner would be, I had said my prayers the night before and asked a higher being, any higher being, to please, please, please let me be paired with Jake Jones.  You see Jake Jones was the cutest, most amazing, tall dark and handsome first grader there ever was.  I had tried to get Jake’s attention many times before, one time I wore a dinosaur shirt to school just because I knew he liked dinosaurs, but none of my feeble attempts had worked to secure his heart so here was my chance!  I just needed the fates to give me this one wish and I knew that Jake would be mine!  Well Mrs. Baunt called my name and I stepped forward ready to hold the hand of my one true love, but instead of calling Jake’s name she called Cody Partridge.  Ewwww!!  I knew somewhere, somehow the fates were laughing at me because now I was paired with Cocoa Bird (as I liked to call him).  Needless to say we didn’t win the competition and I was forever scarred from that experience.

                Second grade and third grade proved to be just as challenging but when I hit fourth grade the darkness descended and it got worse!  I was stuck in a class with Cody Partridge (again!! Can you believe it?) and the teacher made me sit in front of Cody in class which was horrible in itself but it got much, much worse.  One day after lunch we were sitting in class doing our silent reading time, I had just picked up the newest “Mystery Sisters” book from the library and was voraciously reading the pages.  The class was dead silent when it happened…  Out of nowhere this giant bottom explosion happened!  I should have expected it to happen because lunch that day had been chili but I hadn’t expected it to come from me!!!  Oh my gosh!  How mortifying is that?  I tried to play it off looking around at the other kids pretending to sniff out (metaphorically not physically) the culprit but then Cocoa Bird had to speak up.  “I think Allison did that!!!”  It was all over at that point, my face got beet red and everyone knew the big bang had happened in my chair. 

                Fast forward a bit to eight grade, bad things had happened all the other years of school but they all seemed to be on equal footing with the infamous “fourth grade rumbly bumbly incident”.  As a”top dog” at the junior high I knew that this would be my year, I knew I would finally get the man of my dreams, Kree McCallum (Jake Jones was so out of the picture by then!).  Kree was gorgeous, he was tall, he was dark, he was handsome (I know, I know it sounds like Jake but it is a completely different kind of tall dark and handsome!)  We had our Valentine’s Day dance that year and I finally had convinced my mom to let me go.  I picked my cutest outfit, did my hair up, borrowed some of mom’s perfume, and pranced my way into that gymnasium.  There on the other side of the room was Kree.  The first girl’s choice dance I got him on the floor with me, we twirled and waltzed holding each other in an embrace of romance. After the dance was over we went and sat on the bleachers, he offered to get me some punch then walked away.  I was so caught up in our romance I didn’t notice that a sneeze was creeping up on me.  Kree came back with our punch and handed me my glass.  I took a tiny sip and then it happened!!  I sneezed. I sneezed punch all over Kree McCallum’s face but it doesn’t end there, all the contents of my nose emptied out of my nostrils and onto my lip, my punch, my dress, and even my shoes.  Our little romance was quickly killed by “the great booger blowout of eighth grade”.

                This year is my tenth grade year and as you can see I am more than a little nervous about it.  I think the fates know that my time in high school is running short so they’re going to be working overtime to ensure that my life is filled with even more embarrassment before I walk out of these hallowed halls.  Oh boy I can’t wait to see what’s in store.

An Open Letter to the Fashion Industry

Dear Fashion Industry/Designers:

I have a bone to pick with you and I know I don't feel alone on this issue.

It is once again summer time the time for cooler clothing and bathing suits.  In my younger years this meant sporting shorts, cute t-shirts, and fun one piece bathing suits to summer outings and family reunions; it was a time of fewer cares and a much younger (i.e. slimmer) body.  Now I am in my 30's and summer shopping has become a complete nightmare and honestly I blame you!!  I no longer possess the sleek slim body of youth, instead I have a body that has delivered a baby, been through various life changes, and gained a few pounds over the past decade.  It's an adjustment but I can live with the body that I have, what I can't live with however is how you, the fashion industry, hasn't changed.  You refuse to design anything for the modern 30 something woman who doesn't wish to appear as a teen, reveal too much, or look like a grandma.

My own personal goal in dressing is to achieve comfort and modesty all while remaining fashionable.  Each summer I set out looking for something to wear that will keep me comfortable in 100 degree weather and each year I come away disgusted.  You have it in your deluded brains that every woman wishes to wear shorts that almost expose butt cheeks and tops that cover next to nothing.  If I find shorts that are long enough they look like something pulled from the closet of a 70 year old woman and give me the dreaded "mom butt" look and shirts with sleeves are either sheer (creating the need for a shirt underneath defeating the purpose of staying cool) or are once again frumpy looking. Summer clothing options seem to fall into either one of two categories "let me show you my lady parts" or "Little House on the Prairie meets capris". Can we please stop this madness?

Understand that  my desire is to appear fashionable but not show everyone the cellulite on my thighs, the extra baby weight that still lingers around my middle, or the size and brand of my underwear. Please realize that not all of your consumers want to dress in a way that exposes us.  Believe it or not there is a large number of us that would like to dress modestly, fashionably, and stay cool without exposing all of our assets.  We want to keep our bodies to ourselves, we want to appear cute and fashionable without compromising the modesty standards that we uphold, but most of all we want to have to stop pulling our hair out because summer shopping is impossible!

So dear fashion industry/designers create something that a more modest woman can wear in the summer and still feel cute, cool, and comfortable in?

Sincerely,
A fed up consumer

P.S. Swimsuits fall into this category too!!

Hey Phone Face, look up!

Today was the last day of school (hooray!) and as part of our send off the teachers stood in the front foyer ushering children out and eagerly awaiting the moment the last teenager stepped out the door.  As we stood shooing the little fiends out,one of the teachers offhandedly said "Look up at the sun and not at your phone, it's a beautiful day outside!"  While we all laughed at the comment it brought up a thought that I have been having for the past several months;can this generation function without a phone glued to their face?

Our kids are growing up in a world with constant information and communication at their fingertips but they have started putting such urgency and priority on the buzzing curse in their pocket that they have forgotten how to just be human.  Really.  The one tool that they could be using to learn and research with has created kids with a social handicap, kids who are uncomfortable having face-to-face interactions, kids who mentally suffer (and can be verbally abusive) when their precious device is taken away, kids who have no empathy because they can't see the effect their words are having on others, and kids who are unwilling to absorb those things that are important because the glowing face of their phone God beckons.  It is a thoroughly frustrating phenomenon for me to witness.  I can't tell you how many times a kid has been texting, snapchatting, playing a game, etc...  and missed important bits of instruction or experiences.  Everytime I've seen this happen I just want to grab them and shake them screaming "Look away from the damn screen!!  Life is out here and not in there!!!"

 It really makes me concerned that these same people will be joining the workforce in a few short years and they will lack the ability to communicate with co-workers and  lack basic work skills, and ethics, because they couldn't see that the priorities and successes that would help them in life didn't exist in a 4 inch screen but rather in the experiences that they allowed to pass them by.  How do we remedy this problem?  Honestly,I wish I knew.  This a plague that can't be fought with vaccines or antibiotics and it is a wide spread problem. Do you think we can cure the phone face generation?  I personally don't have a positive outlook on this...

The Life of Poo

******Warning, if you couldn't tell from the title I talk about poop!!  If you're squeamish about it don't read it!!!  You've been warned!!!**************************

The day is wound down, the lights are dim, and the sounds of D&D play softly in the background.  As I reflect upon the day, sitting in front of the laptop and procrastinating editing my book (slacker!!), I can't help but reflect upon the changes of my life.  How different things are now than they were a few years ago, while some of the changes are drastic and beautiful others are subtle and sweet.  It's been such an amazing adventure and I wouldn't trade one moment of it.

I have never before felt more privileged than to be a mother.  It has so many mixed emotions and each day brings with it a new set of challenges and learning opportunities.  I have learned so much but perhaps the one thing that I wasn't prepared for was the one thing that should have been most obvious, the most natural and foul thing: poop!!  Oh my the poop!

I find myself overwhelmingly astonished at the amount of feces one small body can hold.  I always know it's coming as she starts to do a "hunker-down-and-grunt" routine, I always wait a few minutes after the routine just to be sure she is truly empty but inevitably 10 minutes after the diaper is changed there is a chaser to be sure the job is done and to give me more to do.

Not only is the changing (and changing and changing) a daily occurrence but I have gotten into the habit of checking to see if she is dirty by putting my nose right next to her bottom.  The scene usually plays out something like this:

Hubby: "Is she dirty?"
Me: Pick up daughter and put nose right next to diapered bottom, *hack & gag* "I immediately regret that decision!!"

However we have had those instances where a bum sniff isn't necessary as a cloud of stink follows her around and lingers on everything & everyone that she passes.  It often leaves me sniffing the air incredulously saying "WHAT IS THAT??"

Though of all the poops I have encountered the "poopsplosion of 2014" that occurred just a couple of hours ago will live in infamy.  Let me just tell you it is an event I will never forget!!

After feeding my beauty a dinner of spaghetti I threw her in the tub, 5 minutes into bath time and floaters appear *sigh*.  I remove her from the tub fishing out the offending turds when I hear husband yell "She just peed all over the floor!!"  my response "get out the carpet cleaner" (which he did). At that point I fill the tub with bleach water and subsequently throw the bath toys that were subjected to nastiness in a sink full of Clorox, keep in mind toddler is running around the house naked while I deal with tub-poo and daddy deals with wet carpet.  Once that chore is done I go to find little one so I can toss her in the shower, when lo and behold she is standing in the window of the sliding glass door (yes, still naked for the world to see) but under her lies another pile of logs.  Not only did she go AGAIN on the floor she proceeded to walk through one of them and smear the carpet with her colorful array.  My reaction?  ARGH!!!!!

Yes the mess got cleaned up, and daddy has become quite a carpet cleaning professional, but I hope to never again have a poop trail on the carpet.   However, despite all those things I am happy to have a healthy and happy toddler and will willingly clean up behind her no matter the circumstances, it is just one of the jobs of being the mommy plus this is great blackmail material for any future suitors!!  (insert evil laughter here)

Burned out!

I have a confession to make, I am burned out.  No really, I'm not just saying that as one of those people who had a bad day and say "I think I'm burned out."  I'm saying if you look at the clinical definition of burned out: "An emotional condition marked by tiredness, loss of interest, or frustration that interferes with job performance. Burnout is usually regarded as the result of prolonged stress." (Mosbys Medical Dictionay) I am BURNED OUT.  

What people fail to realize about me is that I have multiple jobs.  Not jobs in the traditional sense of going to a place of employment and getting paid for ones time spent working there, but rather jobs in the non-traditional sense.  Things that people don't necessarily consider a "job".  When I go to school, my traditional job, I have so many people say "Gee it must be nice only working part time.  I wonder what I would do with that much time off." I really seriously consider punching them in the throat.  

While on the surface it appears that I only work 2-3 days a week at the school then spend the rest of the days at home in leisure and time playing with my toddler their delusion runs deep.  You see while I am only working part time at my traditional job I am holding down 2 additional full time jobs, the job of mommy and of housekeeper.  If you look at that math I'm essentially working 2 1/2 jobs!  Wow!!  While I felt I have held down all of these jobs fairly well, not perfectly by any means, I feel myself slipping in all of them.  

As a teacher I have 100+ research papers sitting on the front seat of my car waiting to be graded, they haven't moved since Friday and probably won't move again until I'm back at school Tuesday, honestly I'm tempted to throw in the movie "Ethan Frome" and just spend the day grading instead of teaching, is there a parallel I could draw between "Ethan Frome" and "Frozen"??

As a mommy I generally try to bring educational activities into our day in order to have a healthy and smart child but lately "Frozen" seems to find its way into our daily routine far too often, what can I say she loves the music and I'm not opposed to it either.  I often feel guilty too because there is a small sense of relief when bedtime finally arrives because it means I'm not chasing a very busy and very active toddler around (today's adventure "Look mommy crayons go in the toilet!!!"  ARGH who left that door open?? Oh it was me.)

As a housekeeper I do okay with maintaining a clean and orderly household, all family members get fed and bills get paid on time but that's beginning to slip too (Eggo waffles for dinner?  Let's add some sugar to that sugar?)  Maybe its just me but I'm beginning to think I own my own aquarium thanks to all the Goldfish Crackers on the floor, I mean how could I vacuum them up?  Their little smiles are so cute!

The worst part of burn out?  Not having any desire to edit my book.  I'm so close to being done!  I can feel the editing ending but the will to persist has evaporated, maybe summer will bring it back?  I certainly hope so...  

I wish I could say I know how to conquer my burnout and once more be on top of my game but I'm afraid it will persist until summer break.  In the meantime if anyone would like to donate some cash and watch my very busy, very active toddler (see above) for a few hours so I can go shopping it would be greatly appreciated!