Momcation

I haven’t been by myself in a house for an extended amount of time in… Years. I always have my son (15) or my dad (95) around or coming back. It’s wonderful. I love my family. But….

I used to love living by myself too. I’ve always kept myself occupied– readings writing, television. I’m not one that gets bored and stays bored. The quiet is a friend of mine- it allows a moment of reflection, a deep sigh.

Thanks to Caltrans and my Best friend I just had that. A glorious Sunday through Thursday morning where I stayed in a house all by my lonesome. Caltrans closed the freeway that I need to get to work. (Not a work vacation, alas). My BF is travelling, and offered her house. I have to tell you….

It. Was. Glorious.

I wrote and sent out cards. I didn’t cook ANYTHING. Frozen all the way. And after work, I went to the real happiest place on earth, Barnes and Noble, and bought many wonderful magazines. One was brand new to me, called Oh, Reader and I read every single article in it. Which has inspired me– to do magazine reviews. Share what I’m loving. Maybe a few book reviews in there too.

The fact is that I miss blogging. I miss sharing the things I love, and boy do I love books and magazines!

I love my family. Of course I do.

But I missed myself, and didn’t even realize what had been missing in my life was ME.

Hello, let’s talk mainstreaming

Hello my lovelies! It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Never fear, I’m still writing.

I started taking writing classes and it is definitely keeping me on my toes. It has a secondary affect, which could have been adverse. My 11 yr old son is being mainstreamed in English Language Arts (ELA) and math. I am hopeless with math, but English? Who Ohio! I’ve got a degree in that!

This is important. If you have a child going from Special Ed to Mainstream you need to listen carefully.

His teachers are phenomenal. But most classes in the SDP range are focused on reading, writing and spelling. Parts of speech, well… So we have a child that has fought his way through everything and is ready to cross the threshold hold but doesn’t know half of what’s being asked of him. Not because he’s dumb. Not because of bad teachers. But because the program that got him this far didn’t teach him those particular things.

He also has a problem with short term memory. Don’t feel bad though, his brain goes so super fast, he’s able to convert to long term memory. It might take him a bit, but he’s able to do it. Pre Mommy taking classes it was no problem.

With me taking classes it is a problem. There’s only so much time in the day. Also, my kid will be a turkey with me:crying, pouting, fit throwing, you know the drill. Our kids will push us to our limits of patience, but will be perfect angels for everyone else. This just childhood, nothing to do with dyspraxia.

But a tutor? And a person he already loves to death? Who also happens to be card carrying member of the Grammar Police? Oh yes, that will do. That will do nicely, thank you very much. No crying, no fits, just lots of learning. And that is a wonderful thing.

Now, I’m off to do your own homework. Ack! I promise, tho, no crying… well. I won’t throw a fit…. no. I promise to do my homework. How’s that?

Boys and poetry

The princeling and I often talk about stories. Last weekend, I listened to him try to rewrite all of my stories. Every single one. 

While cleaning up some papers, I came across a poem we had started together. I remembered the first line, but had forgotten he had written the second. And now I know why he and I don’t work poetry much. He’s 11. And a boy. And I shouldn’t have been suprised….

Here goes…..

If I had a robot heart,

Would I be able to fart.

Yup, my son has mad rhyming skills.

Travelling

Today, the princeling and I are going on a trip, in our favorite rocket ship…. it’s time for us to go out and about. On our own. Well, sort of. We’re going to go visit family, but twill just be he and I in the car.

My son can’t remember the times we used to go travelling on our own. Admittedly, it’s only been twice, but still. My child thinks his mommy can’t travel on her own. Which if you knew my travel history is hilarious.

I love travelling with Linda. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Somewhere along the way, I’ve allowed myself to rely a bit too much on her. Yes, there are situations where I am uncomfortable. But something she said to me on the firstish trip (she ended up meeting me and a friend and ray in monterey) has been ringing in my head. “Why did you bring Her? You’re fine, you don’t need help with the princeling. You’re a good mom and you’ve got it handled”. 

And then I promptly let her handle the travel. Don’t get me wrong, I love travelling with her and T. It’s fun, and we get to talk answer laugh and share heart to heart moments. 

But my son sees me as weak. I write about kick ass women who save themselves and my son sees me as weak. It’s time to write a different story, one that includes travelling with Linda, but also some solo adventures with the princeling. 

It’s al,osteoporosis time for us to cut loose. Stay well my lovelies! 

The Gift of the Editor

I am not good at editing my own work. I’m ok at first pass, and a second. But… well. I have at least 2 Beta’s who read my work, and their comments on my grammar are awesome. Then there’s RIe, who does not only call me on my grammar but also my content / style.

I can do content editing, but not the rest. And there was one story that I wanted so badly to come out, and I just couldn’t get it there. Rie was my editor through MMP (Thank you, Nicole!), and she figured it out. Once I told her what was going on in the story (flash) piece, she knew exactly what needed to be done.

Whew!

Garden is one of my favorite stories that I’ve written. I’ve also gotten the best compliment on The Golden Apple and Other Stories because of it. My neice bought and read the book. She liked Cinder’s Ella the most, but she remembered The Golden Apple. But she told me that she thought the story Garden might help one of her friends who had lost a child…. and that hit me in my heart. At it’s heart, Garden is a story about motherhood, and grief… and love.

I don’t know if she’s shown it to her friend. Or if she did and it helped or not… But I do know that my writing touched something deep inside a reader…. and a reader that I know and love, that I spent my childhood with.

That my friends….

That’s a great editor.

(as a side note: as I’ve been writing this, my son and I have been playing Uno…. I just won my first hand. I think the booger is cheating, but I can’t prove it…. OMG, I love him!)

More soon, my lovelies.

Raising a Writer

My son, 8 years old, helps me with my writing. Since he was about 4, he would dictate stories to me, pacing back and forth, waving his hands madly. He doesn’t do it quite so often any more, but he does like to help me with the stories I write. Especially with Broken.

Now, however, I’ve been in edits. And then came the updated author bio. I hate writing about myself. I dread it. It’s looped in with how I suck at interviews.

My hero, to the rescue. I started, and then he took over—

Wynelda Ann Deaver has been writing stories since she learned to read in first grade. Her son says the writing helps her calm down, and the good part of it is the support she gets from MMP. It’s nice of you guys to buy her books because we like money. Well thanks.My mom will probably write many more books for you.She told me that she will. Have a nice time reading our books!

You notice how it went from “her” books to “our books”? Writing is a team sport. I know many people who will tell you that it is a solitary, lonely road… but I’m here to tell you that you can have a team, too. Maybe in the grand scheme of things they are supporting players (beta readers, coffee makers, those who shove us in the shower with a cup of coffee), but you know what? That’s ok. Still part of the team. Because we couldn’t do what we do with out them.

Without my son to egg me on, I’m not sure I would have finished my story collection (coming out in December! woohoo!). Oh, i probably would have had more time to write without him hanging around… but when he was gone on break for two weeks I crumbled. Could. Not. Write.  I did get caught up on my sleep 🙂 And as I mentioned before, he did actually help with Broken.

But dang, my little boy got ideas!

Now, we’re getting ready to get our new stories out into the world, and as soon as I have more information I’ll get that out to you.

Ta for now, my lovelies!

Book Review: Just Like Other Daughters

This weeks book, Just Like Other Daughters by Colleen Faulkner, works on so many levels. There’s sorrow and humor and hope threaded through out the novel, just as in real life. At its heart, the book is about a mother’s love for her child. That child happens to have Down’s Syndrome.

The ending of the novel is foreshadowed in the very first line: I lost Chloe twice. Throughout the novel, there are little blips where it switches from first person past to first person present… Those blips are not a slip (and you know me, I’d call ’em out if they were). You need to pay attention to them. As a writer, I find it breath taking how she prepares us, the reader, for what’s going to happen and yet… it still makes you catch your breath on a small sob when it does.

Now, on a more personal note… This book made me look at how tightly I keep my son to me. Granted, he’s only seven years old. However… I started loosening the reigns with him. Because he *can* do it. We went into B&N (you know I love that store), it was just the two of us. He wanted to play at the Lego table. He PROMISED he wouldn’t go anywhere else– not even to the bathroom. And if anyone tried to take him somewhere else, he’d scream.

So I walked away. Like any good mom, I hid behind a book shelf and watched him for a while. He was perfectly fine. I walked away for a few minutes, went back to check and there he was… still happily building at the Lego table. Shopped some more, went back and checked on him. The guy working the Nook desk finally took pity on me and told me “He’s fine. I’m right here, and he’s fine.”

Wow. Am I that much of a helicopter mom? I need to loosen the reigns, I guess, and let him learn to live in the real world instead of the bubble I want to make for him.

At the heart of “Just Like Other Daughters”, that’s what Alicia and Chloe face. Chloe has Down syndrome… and comes home in love one day. How do you let go, how do you protect your child while letting them experience the world… That is what Just Like Other Daughters is about.

 

 

It’s been a weird, weird summer

So in the normal course of things, summer is just like any other season. I get up, I go to work, Monday through Friday. Saturday and Sunday are reserved for writing, resting, and getting the laundry done so I can go and do a repeat of M-F.

This summer has been a bit different. It’s strange, and wild and wonderful!

My son is 7, and in the normal course of things he’d be at daycare M-F too, just the normal normal. This summer, though, he was able to stay home with Poppa, run wild with his neighborhood friends, and generally have a blast. I’ve always wanted to give him that— essentially the modern day version of my childhood.

I took an online course, then quit at the very end. Last lesson. I quit. Yup, and oddly enough, i don’t regret it. I have a piece of writing that is extremely experimental and I might want to send off to competitions (i adore it). I also had discovered a writing event that I want to attend— but the scholarship application was due within a week. I had to let that take preference at that time.

And then there was Reno! Traveling with the boy, solo for the first time. Once we got there, Regina was there and it was so awesome, but this was the first time it was just he and I in a hotel room and on the drive. We did great! (One melt down does not constitute a bad time. It constitutes a bad moment)

Today, we went to Stockton-con. A mini- comic convention that is a fundraiser for local charities. Ray made it through for about an hour and a half, I picked up some great art work and he got to take pics with some great characters. And the artists were so nice, talking with him about the pictures and stuff.  When he started to have a melt down (due to excessive noise and people), there were people who were nice enough to pull him out of it, distract him while I steered him to an outdoor area. You hear a lot of crap about Stockton, but at the arena today, people were extremely nice to an over excited little boy with dyspraxia, SPD and a slight speech impediment.

Can’t ask for more than that.

Although now i’m thinking… tide pools. Definitely tide pools or the beach in some form or another.

Oh. And writing. Have a couple of great ideas right now and am working them out. Which looks a lot like me looking off into the distance LOL. But that’s ok. I really like the one… about a goblin princess. But I need to come up with what and who I think the goblins are before I start researching them.

Monday, Monday

Sorry, No Marketing Monday today. Tried writing yesterday and got interrupted by mommyhood. Several trips back to the room by Ray-Ray, who LOVES the laptop, taking things off the laptop that someone else put on there (ARGH!) When it finally came to down writing, when I was able to be just hang out with the words…. Nothing struck me.

Sigh.

I worked on several different peices. Some fiction. Some non-fiction. The non-fiction I worked on the most, liked the most. But it’s unfocused, has no point… Maybe I’ll post it here sometime soon. Talks about things I want to do when I’m grown up (har har).The funniest part is— I started it about a year ago, and Number 2 on the list is…. Getting a redesigned Camaro! HAH! See! I did work it in LOL! Take that, Joel!

Finally, I gave up. Door was locked, so I left the laptop plugged in, charging the camera (don’t ask). Then I laid back, feet propped up, and watched some good old fashioned Hallmark Movies.

Yah. Life is good, once you get past the aggrivation!

Potty Training, Potty Mouth & Preschool

Ray started back to preschool yesterday.  He was sooo excited when I picked him up: “I went to school today. I go again! Can I go again? I went to school today,…” He grabbed my hand, took me over to his backpack and showed me all the papers stuffed inside. Papers for me to fill out. SIGH. But he’s happy happy happy now that he is back in school.

Talked with his teacher about the state of potty training. He still won’t go on his own. We’ve tried bribery. We’ve tried praise. It just won’t take. I’m out of ideas. Right now his potty training is an adult remembering that he needs to go every so often. And poo? Don’t even think about it. He gets hysterical if he can’t run in the room and hide to do it.  There’s nothing quite like getting thrown out of a room so that: “I hide. Need to go poop. GO!” He becomes a little dictator. When I told teacher about it, all she said was “He’s very private.” That’s fine— be private all you want. But can’t he be private on the potty? Where I don’t have to clean up the mess?

And then there’s the potty mouth. Currently, his favorite words start with a**. As in spank that a**, punk a**, etc etc. There’s also the s**t word that just made an appearance. Normally, I tell him “I can’t hear you when you talk like that,” and then proceed to ignore him. Works rather well. But yesterday, on the way home, he started yelling at the other drivers for me. “You drive like s**t! S**T! You bad driver!”  And on and on…. I tried to tell him I couldn’t hear him… Really I did. But I was too busy laughing. That high, sing song little boy voice cussing out drivers on the road (and no, I didn’t start it), was too much for me. I laughed until there were tears in my eyes. Baad mommy. You’re not supposed to laugh.

And no, I’m not the cusser. If I was, he would be dropping the F bomb, which is my favorite in times of stress.

Oh, my little man. If only the potty training worked as well as your potty mouth!