Love and Toothpaste Tubes
Our three stairstep girls were in the back of the minivan as we drove to a friends’ house for supper. Collectively, I had labored thirty-eight hours to bring them into the world. I said, “Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day.” My husband groaned. “I knew you forgot.” He
I Grew Up as a Caretaker’s Daughter
On Wednesday, my husband went to the doctor for an X-ray. When the results proved inconclusive, the doctor ordered a CAT scan. We texted back and forth while he waited. He told me it would be okay, but he had told
My Five Year Plan
Last week, the Southern Festival of Books was held in Nashville, which I forgot to sign up for because the deadline fell shortly after my daughter’s birth. This week, I also received an invitation to visit with some author friends
Dancing in the Mine Fields
I sat on the porch step with the phone to my ear and stared out at the yard. I didn’t say anything for a moment, because I wasn’t sure how to respond. For weeks, we’d hoped that stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) could
Parenthood: Snipping Away Our Character Flaws
Two weeks ago, I purchased a spider plant at Aldi’s for $4.99. I have a thing for plants, and in our move from Wisconsin to Tennessee, I lost all my plants but for an orchid. Therefore, I’ve been slowly and stealthily
The Outcast E-Book Sale!
Hey, friends, It's a gorgeous 62 degree Saturday, and the girls and I have just returned from playing outside with their cousins. Now, my two-year-old is taking a nap; my five-year-old is eating a snack, and I am using this rare
The Alliance Book Trailer
A few weeks ago, my friend, Jessica, came over to our farm. Jessica and I met last summer when I stopped to buy sweet corn at her adorable roadside stand. I soon discovered that Jessica is a creative soul with
Balancing Motherhood & Artistry
This Wednesday, while hiding in the bathroom, I tried to call local libraries and bookstores to line up book events for The Alliance, but my girls (four years old and nineteen months) couldn’t stand being separated from me. So, they pounded on the door and twisted on the handle until I had to open it and usher them inside. The three of us stood in front of the sink, looking at each other in the mirror, as I continued to wait on hold. A few hours later, I received an extortion letter that required me to sit on the floor while a stranger told me how much I (allegedly) owe. Needless to say, Wednesday was not my favorite and had my husband praying before dinner, “Thank you for this . . . day.” And then he opened his eyes and grinned at me across the table because, in that pause, he'd purposefully omitted the word “good.” But then, as my husband and I were tucking our eldest into bed, she looked at me and said, "Did your book camed out?" I titled my head. "My book?" She nodded in the dark. "The one with the plane. Did it camed out?" I touched her chin. "No, not yet." "But your other ones camed out?" I smiled at her, my throat tight. "Yes. two." My husband and I looked at each other across her pink comforter, and the stress from the entire day just melted off me. I could tell by my his smile that it had melted off him too. Sometimes, if I’m just honest with you (and what's the point of all this if I'm not?), I wonder if I’m making the right choice by pursuing an author career while my children are so young. I wonder if, otherwise, I’d do more macaroni crafts, read more books, be more patient, bake complicated, raw-food cookies that my children actually like. What if--once my
The Secret to Writing a Novel
My dear friend (and former neighbor) emailed this week to ask my secret to writing a novel. Flattered, I smiled as I read her questions and promptly responded, promising that I would divulge my “wisdom” this weekend in a blog
Motherhood Never Ends
I awoke to light outside, meaning I’d overslept my alarm. My two little cherubs awoke soon after I did, so I had to forfeit my morning ritual of making peanut butter toast and French-pressed coffee, which I nibble and sip