Yellowstone

Last summer Matt, the children, and I embarked on a nearly 5,000 mile, three week, road trip "out west". Exactly a year ago today we were spending the last of four days exploring Yellowstone National Park.

The picture below was taken in the morning while driving through Hayden Valley. We'll always remember this as the day that Michael and I hiked up a small but steep grassy hill and were surprised by a bison standing way too close for comfort just on the other side of the crest. This is a hilarious memory for Michael because I responded to the bison's proximity with an expletive. I will always remember it as the moment I realized I'd be on my own in a zombie apocalypse - Michael was down the hill and back in the car almost faster than I could turn around. 

In the second picture you can see two of our silhouettes standing on a bridge, taking in the visual and auditory spectacle of Dragon's Mouth Spring - it really did sound like there was a beast behind that steam. 

We are heartbroken, seeing the images coming out of Yellowstone this week. Our time there, while brief, was truly amazing. I often felt like I was on a different planet. I'm so sorry for the people who live and work in that area, folks who are having the trip of a lifetime cancelled or cut short, and everyone who is impacted by the current flooding in any way. 

I can't help but wonder how many devastating natural disasters it is going to take before we wake up and take the necessary steps to mitigate climate change. There are choices we make as a family (though I know there's always more we could do) to try to help, but we need change on a much bigger scale. 

 

Time to Move On

Nearly six years ago I agreed to take a leap out of my comfort zone and join my friend Christina as a Profiles Editor for Literary Mama. I felt like Bambi on ice as I started to learn the ropes. I'm still not entirely sure what made the powers that be willing to take a chance on me at that point (most likely Christina's generous recommendation) but, eventually, I found my feet as an editor. Over time I was able to take on more responsibility and, as Christina moved on to a Senior Editor position, I even got to welcome a new editor to the profiles department and made a wonderful friend in Susan. I am proud of the work that I've done at Literary Mama in the past few years and proud to have been a small part of a truly remarkable group of women who work on this labor of love from all over the world. 

Month after month I got to work with writers interviewing writers and broaden my perspectives on motherhood and creativity. I learned from the feedback given by the Senior Editors. I had the opportunity to collaborate with women from many different backgrounds. I made connections with incredibly talented writers and I'm grateful. Without a doubt I gained much more than I gave in my time with Literary Mama. 

March/April 2022 was the last issue of Literary Mama that I worked on as a profiles editor, after choosing not to renew my contract. Working full-time and keeping up with a busy family, I found that the time I spent on profiles was keeping me from spending as much energy as I'd like on my own creative pursuits. For the first time in a long time, I'm not seeing the flurry of emails that indicate a new issue will be coming soon. Fortunately I don't have to sever ties with my Literary Mama family completely. My profile of Jamie Sumner was published last September, and I'm looking forward to sharing the profile I will have in the May/June 2022 issue. 

If you haven't yet taken time to read the gorgeous, thought-provoking, mother-affirming writing that Literary Mama publishes, please take time to look at it soon, you won't be sorry.

Week Who Knows What Day or Time It Is

We're far enough into the global pandemic that it's too fuzzy to count the weeks any longer. I mean, I could count them, but I would have to look at a calendar.

___

Apparently I began this post in May of 2020. Yes, over a year ago. It must have been right around the time that staying home because of Covid went from feeling like a brief moment of sacrifice we were going to make for the greater good to something larger and even scarier. 

We left school for spring break in 2020 and never went back into our school buildings. In our district most students didn't return until late January of 2021. We've been back in school for the year since mid-August. Things are normal-ish, but of course nothing is really normal at all. 

I've been thinking about the things we get used to. People are adaptable. Think of every time an app or online service you use has updated, slightly changing its look. The first couple of days are jarring, annoying every time you open that app, and then you stop noticing the change. I work in an old building and the blowers for the heat/air are relatively loud. There's almost always significant background noise from them, but I don't hear it any longer, it is simply a part of my auditory landscape. I only think about it when someone else mentions they're bothered by the sound.

Here are some other things, for better or worse, I've gotten used to in the last 18 months or so:

• wearing masks and seeing others with masks on
• daily news updates about the Covid numbers in our state
• near-daily emails home about the Covid cases in our school
• making plans and putting a mental asterisk next to them, just in case Covid changes things
• checking attendance requirements for places I want to go (masks? proof of vaccination?)
• random shortages/bare spots on store shelves
• guessing whether mail I send domestically will arrive somewhere in two days or two weeks

I'm hoping there's a day when most of these become unusual again, I have no idea how long it will take to get there. 

Three Weeks In

That first, productive, week off of school, during our actual spring break, was a bit of a fluke. Once I was back to working, albeit from home, things were slightly less peaceful. The first week I was back at work the children still did not have school work. This was fine for Harper, who has been fairly content to binge watch and check in with her friends, but was less fine for Michael. While Michael is also a fan of electronic diversions, he is not as skilled at self-entertaining and spent a week being really bothered by the fact that no one was able to pay much attention to him during the day.

Last week, when there was actual school work for the children do to, was marginally better. However, as is expected, we're all getting on each others' nerves a bit. I know how fortunate we are, given these circumstances. There's plenty of space in our home, plenty to do, plenty to eat. Still, we're all feeling the sting of the things that we aren't able to do, the people we aren't able to be with, etc.

We're under "stay at home" orders until May 1st; however, I can't imagine that it won't extend beyond that. What kind of amazes me is how quickly my mindset has shifted. At first, it seemed kind of wild that our spring break was going to turn into two weeks of online learning. Now we're almost certainly not going back to school this school year. I find myself mentally working through scenarios in which none of our summer plans are happening, and accepting that there's a possibility we might not return to school on time in August. (That has not been stated as a possibility by our district or by our state leadership.) Basically I'm not taking for granted anything that was supposed to happen within the next six months. The idea that it may be months before we are "back to normal" is both horrible and fine. We're getting by. Is there any other way to take this than to get through one day at a time?

I'm also trying to keep in mind what a privilege it is to be able to stay at home to this degree. No one living in our home has to leave home to work. We have the technology to meet our work/school/entertainment needs. We have the access and means to keep our pantry/freezer/fridge stocked with minimal interactions with the outside world. We have a safe neighborhood for walking in. We are even able to worship with our church online. It is not lost on me how absolutely fortunate we are.

One Week In

So! In our part of Ohio we've basically been on relative lock down for ten days. The children and I were on spring break this past week so things have been very loosey-goosey at home, in a way that is probably not sustainable if we want to hold on to any shred of normalcy. I "go back to work" tomorrow, as we prepare for the students to begin e-learning the following week. Of course every teacher I know has been preparing already, but it is still nice that there is a cushion of time before everything has to be rolled out.

I'm trying to figure out how to do some recording of this time, without just making a list of what we've done to keep from going insane.

Something that has helped me has been getting up, showering, making the bed, and putting on pants without an elastic waistband. I have not forced this onto my children, but I can see the slippery slope that ends with me staying in bed until noon every day. And really, that wouldn't hurt anything, but it's also not how I want to spend the next however many weeks.

I have tried to do something productive every day. Early last week I washed some sheets and then, reader, I ironed them. I think about ironing the sheets every time I take them out of the wash, but there's normally not time for that nonsense so I fold them and hope for the best. Here's some photographic/video evidence of my deeds:

For the record, it takes a very, VERY long time to iron a king size sheet when working it inch by inch along a standard sized ironing board.

This is a time-lapse video of ironing a pillowcase. Yes, it has come to this.

The other satisfying thing that happened this week is that Michael, with minimal assistance from me, cleaned out and organized his room. Here are the after pictures:

He seems pleased with the end result, which I (likely, foolishly) hope will help keep him motivated to maintain its current state. Time will tell.

Harper has mostly retreated to her room with her phone and computer. I did force her to wash her sheets. Michael is loving the family time this situation has left us with, Harper, not so much. We'll just keep taking it one day at a time.

Well Hello There

I started this blog when I was a stay-at-home mom in the fall of 2005. At the time it was a way to remain connected to the "outside world" when I was home with baby Harper. I was looking for an outlet and, ultimately, a form of social connection. It was a way to flex a creative muscle and feel less isolated.

Our governor just issued an order to close schools for the next three weeks and most of my children's activities have been indefinitely suspended or cancelled outright. It's too early to know whether I'll need to report to my school when our week of official spring break is over so we'll just take it one day at a time.

I know some of you have been blogging all along. Others of you who used to be part of the blog world have let if fall off a bit (or completely) as I have now that my kids are older. Perhaps social distancing measures will bring about a blogging renaissance? If so, let me know where you're writing so I can follow along.

I'm aware that it's a poor idea to start writing without a purpose. I suppose my purpose is just to wave into the void a bit. Hello.

NaNo Again

I've decided to give National Novel Writing Month a try again this year. I completed the challenge successfully in 2016, but haven't gotten very far in the years since then. This year I have gone in with some pre-writing done, which I hope will give me a better chance of seeing it through.

The local NaNoWriMo community is wonderful, although November is such a busy month for us that I've never been able to attend any of the in-person events. For those of you who don't know anything about National Novel Writing Month, you can check it out by clicking here. It isn't too late to join!

October was kind of a stinker of a month for our household, so I'm happy to kick it to the curb. November means birthday celebrations for Harper and I, as well as a delightful week off of school for Thanksgiving. I'm already thankful for the break!

Wish me luck with the NaNoWriMo challenge. I may post occasional updates here, just to help me feel accountable. Is anyone else I know participating this year? Send me a message if you'd like to be official "buddies" on the website.

Something I Never Thought About in 6th Grade

Well we're all back to school in these parts and I just saw a headline about the new locking systems that are being installed on our interior school doors over the next month and a half to provide another layer of protection against mass casualties.

It reminded me of a brief conversation I had with Michael on the way home from school today. He was telling me about learning about his teachers. One of them used to be in the military and he said he's so glad she's in our school because she knows what to do with a gun. I mentioned that she didn't keep a gun in her classroom and his reply was, "But if she could get it away from someone trying to hurt us she would know how to use it." The most horrifyingly sad part of this exchange was how matter-of-factly he mentioned it and was on to the next thing.

Our children think of someone coming in and shooting at them in their schools as a thing that could possibly happen. We have to do better for them. 

Mary Oliver and My 6th Grade Teacher

I've been participating in a challenge this month to walk one extra mile a day. I realize that isn't much of a challenge for many people, but it has been a test of time and commitment for me. I'm pleased to say that I've walked that mile 8 days out of 8 so far, we'll see how the rest of April goes.

Even a nice, gentle walk (or any activity) can feel torturous if I'm watching some kind of clock or distance count down. In order to peacefully walk on my treadmill, which is where most of my extra miles have taken place, I set the time/distance/speed and then promptly cover the digital display with my Kindle and read as I walk.

The last couple of days I have been reading Mary Oliver's Upstream. In one of the early essays in the book, Oliver was describing various birds and mentioned loons. Just reading the word, "loon," nearly took my breath away as I was instantly flooded with memories of a favorite teacher. Mrs. Freiburger was my 6th grade teacher and my 7th grade science teacher and she absolutely loved loons.

Aside from the loons, here is what I remember about Mrs. Freiburger as a teacher: she read us great books, we did lots of creative writing in her class, her last name was one of our spelling words early in the school year, and she loved science. Twice I got in "trouble" in her class and I still remember her reprimanding me because I cared so much about her opinion and I was upset I had disappointed her. What impresses me most, all these years after middle school? When I think of Mrs. Freiburger I feel happy. The memory of being in her class just makes me smile. Her passion for her job and care for her students still feels like a gift to me 30 years after being in her class.

I have no idea where Mrs. Freiburger is now, but I would drop everything in a heartbeat to have lunch with her. Wherever she is I hope she is enjoying her retirement and has endless opportunities to observe her beloved loons.

Transformation

The children went back to school on Wednesday and I'm in a big feelings place right now. People who know me in real life may laugh at that - wondering if I'm ever NOT in a big feelings place. Harper began her last year of middle school and Michael began his last year of elementary school. This year I seem to be viewing everything through a lens tinted with a hint of "last". I will be sappy and lovey and tearful all year; you've been warned.

On the way to the bus stop this morning Michael said to me, "I don't really feel like a 5th grader."

I thought for a minute, then I said, "Well, that's because you don't become something new overnight. Do you think a seed feels like a flower as soon as it begins to sprout?"

"That's a good point."

I know many children would not accept that level of cheesiness in an answer. Fortunately it suited my tender-hearted Michael just fine.

Double Digits

Dear Michael,

Today you are 10 years old. I have to admit, this birthday caught me a little by surprise. It wasn't that I didn't remember it was your birthday, we've been planning for it for months, but I didn't think much about the number until we celebrated last week. Then I saw those "10" candles blazing away on your cake...

The problem is that you simply aren't a baby any more. You haven't been a baby for a long time. But, of course, you'll always be my baby.

You're my baby, but your feet have been bigger than mine for over a year.

You're my baby, but you're nearly five feet tall.

You're my baby, but you're using a protractor and manipulating fractions in math class.

You're my baby, but you can spell and use words like monolith.

You're my baby, but you have more compassion and empathy than many adults I know.

You are, and always have been, a gentle soul in a less-than-gentle world. Sometimes I think about your premature birth and difficult entry into this world and I wonder if it was God's way of letting me know that you would need just a little more from me. More tenderness, more patience, more prompting, and (someday) more willingness to let you find your own way in the world. (Unlike the story you are telling me now, I doubt you'll live here forever.)

It is difficult not to want to make life easier for you - many days you do so much to make it harder for yourself. We are still waiting for your heart and your head to catch up with your rapidly growing body. Much of the time you seem to navigate the world like Bambi walking on ice - a bit fearful, a bit awkward, with so much left to learn. I will keep doing my best to support you. I will try to remember that it is better for you if I leave a few bumps in your road, allowing you to find your own strength and your own way. I'm working on it.

As you start another year of your life there are so many things I wish for you. Mostly I hope you know how very well you are loved.

Happy birthday, sweet boy. I love you.

Love,
Mom

Growing Pains

We moved.

Are moving?

We have lived our new house, just up the street (1.7 miles to be exact), for almost three weeks now.

We are STILL cleaning stuff out of the old house. And no, we haven't listed it yet...

This last month has been rough. And 90% un-fun. It has been majorly un-fun for the children, which compounds the un-fun for the adults. We were all ready to be finished with the moving process about three weeks ago. AND school started - which just means less time to tackle the slowly diminishing mountain of stuff to sort through.

Tonight, after a particularly un-fun time trying again to finish cleaning out the basement, Michael said to me, "You know what I wish? I wish this was all a bad dream and I would wake up and we wouldn't be moving and I would be in our old house. This house does not feel like my home."

Ouch. That was a bit of an emotional sucker-punch for me. As an adult I can rationalize that three weeks is not very long and I know that we will make many happy memories here and it will feel like (and be) our home. For Michael this past three weeks has been an eternity.

There's no bigger message here tonight - just a reminder to myself that the things that feel overwhelming/uncomfortable/un-fun to me, feel the same way multiplied by about 1,000 to my children.

I also wanted to get these words down so, in the future, when we are all happy in this home, I might be able to remind Michael about how difficult this transition was for him. Maybe remembering/being reminded of that, when everything has turned out just fine, will help him face other difficult transitions.

Two Weeks Later

Summer camp, in particular Camp Minikani in Hubertus, WI, played a huge role in my childhood/young adulthood. Outside of my family, camp was the primary influence in my adolescent years. It is no exaggeration to say that attending (and eventually working at) camp was life-changing for me. Attending summer camp has always been a gift I have been eager to give my children.

This year marked Harper's third summer at the camp of my childhood. When she was 10 she attended a week of day camp. Last year, at 11, she attended one week of overnight camp. This year she went overnight for two full weeks. We pick her up tomorrow and I am jumping out of my skin.

Outside her two-week summer home.

I am 99% not worried about Harper at camp. My 1% of concern comes from the fact that it is not a completely nut-free environment, though it's as close as just about any other public place she frequents; and a little from the fact that girls can be mean. Since we drive from Ohio for Harper to attend camp in Wisconsin, she does not attend with any of her friends from school or dance. Now you would be hard-pressed to find anyone who is more of a friendship-building expert than a well-trained camp counselor, which Minikani has in abundance. Yet I also know that, despite the best efforts of caring counselors, there are sometimes kids who just don't connect with other kids. Harper is not usually that child, but you never know. 

Two weeks is a long time to not know what your child is doing or how she/he is feeling. Matt received two brief notes from Harper. In the second note she said she cried when the one-week campers left (including a girl she became friends with last summer) and that she missed us, but was excited for the next week of camp. She's probably fine. She's probably better than fine. But, ugh, the line about crying when her friends left made my heart hurt for her. I really hope she's also made some friends in her cabin - all of them are staying for both weeks. 

Tomorrow morning Michael and I will pick her up and I'll get to hear all about it. Maybe camp won't turn out to be the magical place for her that it was for me and that will be ok. But I can't help but hope that she's had a great two weeks and has been too busy having fun to write and tell me about it.

Perhaps You've Seen It?

I saw an image on Facebook the other day that I want to share, but now, of course, I cannot find it. I can find things which are close to it, but not enough to satisfy me. At any rate I'm going to attempt to recreate the wording for you...

Motherhood:

❒ clean house

❒ happy kids

❒ exercise

❒ strong marriage

❒ strong friendships

❒ well-rested

❒ healthy/homemade meals

❒ sanity

(pick two)

If I were personalizing the list for myself I would add time to write, time to read, and promptly answering texts/emails to the list and still only be able to pick two. Sure, it's a bit of an exaggeration, but it is the best way I've seen recently to describe what life feels like right now. 

Internet Things That Have Made Me Smile

This is a fairly random assortment of items, but here we go:

• I stumbled upon a "kitchen hack" that I have found particularly useful. I make several chicken dishes that require me to either chop up or shred cooked chicken breast. Now shredding chicken is not that difficult, but I read that you could use a hand mixer to shred chicken and it works! No more burning my fingers trying to do it with my hands or messing around with forks. (Ok, that sounded like a bad infomercial, but I truly disliked the job of shredding chicken, and I do it often.) I like the pieces of shredded chicken to be small and the hand mixer does that very well. There are usually one or two chunks that I end up pulling apart as I'm emptying the bowl but overall it is very easy. And it's been a fun way to psych out the kids who think I'm baking and then realize the mixing bowl is full of chicken. 

• When I was a child, one of the best parts of being home sick from school was getting to watch game shows. I still kind of love them and I get all choked up when people win. It seriously makes me cry, happy tears of course. One of my current favorites is Celebrity Name Game - locally it's on in the morning so I only catch it when we have time off school. If you are in a bad mood, I suggest getting online and watching clips of people winning this show. Instant mood lift.

• If you are looking to punish the back/knees of someone you know who has small children in his/her life, have I got a product for you! You will think this is a joke, but it is not... you can procure a saddle designed to be strapped to an adult, making it easier for a child to ride said adult like a pony. Don't believe me? Check out the Pony Up Daddy, because who wouldn't love a daddy saddle?

For Michael, At Nine

Dear Michael,

I just tucked your nine-year-old self into bed. As I turned off your overhead light and went to switch on your radio (you listen to game broadcasts, or sports talk radio at night) you asked me to wait a minute. Then you said, "Will you please sing Happy Birthday to me one last time?"

Of course I obliged. And I sang it slowly - drawing out that tender moment. I know you like the way I sing. I also know you're likely to outgrow that opinion soon. So, for now, I will sing to you anytime you want.

Despite the fact that your birthday fell on a Thursday, you managed to have a pretty great day. "Best birthday ever!" you said, more than once. Your day began with a giant Rice Krispie treat for breakfast. It was cut to resemble a slice of cake. I put a candle in it and we sang to you around the kitchen table at 6:45 this morning. Not a bad way to begin your day.

As you and Harper get older, I find it a little more difficult to write these birthday notes. I still want to celebrate the person you are, but I also find myself a little sad about how quickly it's all happening. At dinner tonight Daddy kept showing me old photos of you on his phone - I had to make him stop before I drowned my food in a puddle of tears.

Don't go so fast.

There are two things I've noticed recently that I've sort of saved up to comment on, on this birthday. You are not perfectly behaved, far from it, but you have such a gentle spirit and such a kind heart. As you get older it only become easier for me to see this side of you. I offer you a couple of examples:

• Our dog, Rebound, is getting very old. He'll be 14 in April. Some days you decide to leave your precious "blankie", the one Auntie M made for you when you were born, on the living room floor - just so Rebound can rest on it when we're all gone during the day. And he does! More than once we've come home and he's been happily curled up, sleeping on your offering. 

• Every morning we walk down the sidewalk to your bus stop. This is the first year you've ridden the bus, so everything about that has been a new experience. There is a kindergartner, who lives on the next street over, who is also at your bus stop. On the first day she rode the bus, you offered to sit with her (such a gentleman!) and then took it like a champ when she turned you down. To be fair, she's half your size, so that offer may have been a little intimidating. Recently I realized that no matter where we are standing, no matter what the weather is like, you always, ALWAYS wait for the little girl to get on the bus first. Sometimes you are closer to where it stops, sometimes she needs an extra moment to say goodbye to her mom, but you never jump ahead. I know that I never told you that you should let her get on the bus first, maybe Daddy did, at the beginning of the year? I just know that it warms my heart a little each morning to see that you wait for her. 

You have an instinct to look out for others, Michael, and it is one of my favorite things about you.

Nine is a great age and I'm looking forward to all that this year has in store for you. I love you Michael. Happy birthday.

Love always,
Mom

A Tale of Two Photos

Recently one of my internet friends, Heather, posted a couple of pictures on Facebook... one was a shot of a happy couple on vacation: the second, wider, shot showed the same happy couple, but also their boys who were tussling a few feet away. It made me smile because we all do that, right? If you have ever posted on social media it's likely you've cropped something or used a filter that makes your dirty floor less obvious or adjusted the lighting to minimize the blemishes on your selfie... I appreciated her honesty.

I can't say that I fault anyone for putting her best foot forward, publicly. We do that in a hundred different ways on a daily basis. We care about the impression we make. It's the same kind of motivation that keeps me from showing up to work in sweatpants. Except on pajama day, I'm ALL IN on pajama day...

Last night I had a small melancholy moment in my inner dialog. It was only Michael and I for dinner - Matt was running a basketball tryout and Tuesdays are one of the nights Harper eats at the dance studio since she's there 4:45 - 8:15. We have several nights on the schedule this week that timing dictates we grab dinner on the go, so I cooked a decent meal, even though there were only two of us. Dinner was rice, green beans, and lemon garlic chicken. I only prepared three pieces of chicken: one for Michael, one for myself, and one for lunch leftovers. Only making three meant that I could use my small dish and I had a mental flicker of the future when I'd someday only be cooking for Matt and myself again. For some reason I decided to document the small dish:

It's not a professional food photo, by any stretch, but it doesn't look bad right? You can probably picture Michael and I sitting down to a nice dinner together. 

What you can't see in that first photo was that, since only two of us were eating, I didn't bother to clear the previous day's Costco haul of batteries and light bulbs from the table. The second photo also gives away the fact that Michael won't eat rice without a sprinkle of shredded cheese on top and we just plopped the bag right down on the table. In fact the only thing that was in a nice dish was the chicken - and even that was the dish I baked it in and not a platter or something. 

I don't mean to get preachy, but it occurred to me that there are probably many moments in life when what we observe of others presents only a small part of the bigger picture they are dealing with. It's not a bad thing to keep in mind, the fact that there's almost always something else outside the frame. 

Coincidence?

This past weekend, as I was running some errands, I caught a few moments of NPR's This American Life. The show was full of people's stories about coincidences and, even though I only heard a portion of the show, it made me think of coincidence in my own life and it reminded me of a strange thing I hadn't thought about in many years...

In early 2000 (there's evidence of the date below) I had just graduated from college and was living in Wisconsin, spending my days substitute teaching. I had a decent amount of free time on my hands. I don't recall how I came across the website, but I ended up online, answering some questions, getting a prediction of the date I'd be married by. 

I had not moved back to Ohio yet, did not know I was going to do so, and had not met Matt. I have no recollection of what kinds of questions were asked. But when I got my "results" I decided to print them and save them. I tucked them away in a drawer or notebook and promptly forgot about them. Below is the paper with my results printed on it:

I don't recall exactly when I found that piece of paper again. You can see that I'd printed it on February 9, 2000. The date it said I'd be married by? Well that turned out to be my actual wedding day.

Reentry, Again

As often happens after participating in National Blog Posting Month, I reach the end of November and I am done with all the words. Then the holidays happen and I come up for air and realize that January is almost over.

I don't recall whether I already mentioned this in the blog or not, but, back in October, I joined the editorial board of Literary Mama. Taking on that new (volunteer) role has provided a good challenge. I am still working on seamlessly (ha!) integrating those tasks into my daily routines. Fortunately I have patient co-editor who is walking me through the steps.

I'll be writing more soon, but in the meantime please do check out the new issue of Literary Mama. While you're there you can subscribe to Literary Mama blog posts, subscribe to the newsletter, or follow/friend us on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, or Pinterest!

Winner Winner...

...chicken dinner!

Somewhere down the road I owe this space three decent blog posts to make up for these last three sad ones for the end of NaBloPoMo. I have been really scrambling the last three days to make up for all the time I didn't spend writing while we were in Florida. I had to write about 10,000 words today to meet the 50,000 word goal by the time National Novel Writing Month ended and I did it! It was insane and I spent every free moment typing away.

The turn my story took at the end means that it isn't actually finished. The whole thing is incredibly flawed but it is there. Maybe I will pick it up again and finish the story or maybe not, but it always feels good to set a goal and reach it.