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Browsing Tag: stay at home mom

It’s Summer Break. Let’s Dive In, Shall We?

It’s halfway through the first week of summer break. We’ve gone hiking (during which I was entirely convinced a tick had found its way into my hair, only to discover that one actually landed on David’s shorts. Who’s paranoid now, right?), and to the pool (for a freezing two hours, which ended in two children shivering so hard their teeth chattered even though it was perfectly warm enough to be swimming, they swear). They’ve had shaved ice for dinner, and played in the sprinkler, and eaten dinner al fresco on the deck while rain suddenly sprinkled down. We’ve had one child with a 103-degree fever (yes, it was unrelated to the frigid swimming. Why do you ask?), and washed beach towels that are most definitely the neighbors’ and not ours. We’ve gone to Hersheypark and then to Troegs. I’ve broken up approximately 35 fights (a day) and ignored as many others. I have not yet cleaned out the girls’ backpacks, but Quinlan just did the job for me, and now the kitchen table is piled high with an assortment of broken…

I Mean, They Have Wine There, Too

I’m supposed to be on my way to Albuquerque tomorrow, for my organization‘s writers’ retreat. Workshops, writing time, discussion groups. Friends who have brains like mine. Friends who are on social media right now talking with each other as they pack, excited to meet up with a blueberry margarita in hand before the (awesome, fun, hard, rewarding) work begins. But.I put off getting my plane tickets for a couple of reasons, and by the time I sat down to get them, the prices were so high I couldn’t bring myself to book the flights. (Note: never, ever pay off the last credit card and then make a solemn, empathic family vow to stop using them the same year you book a spot at a great writer’s retreat. Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of fiscal responsibility.) If you’d guess that I’m a little bummed about this, you’d be a good guesser. Or you saw me crying. Either or.  Now.I sit here at the kitchen table, surrounded by notes and index cards and lots and lots of words in my head…

Because Seasons Change

David and Cian and I just dropped the girls off for their first day of the new school year. First and second grade. Tiny plaid uniforms. Backpacks that still look a bit too big for their little bodies. Saoirse told me last night that she wasn’t ready for the year to start–this summer had been too nice. Too much fun. “Relaxing,” she said. You know already that I felt the same way. I wasn’t the Author this summer, or really even the Author Mom. I really didn’t have a choice to be anything other than Regular Mom once vacation started, and while I’m not so sure I want to know what that means for a burgeoning writing career, these past weeks were some of the best that I can remember. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a choice: I had to be in the mix with these three kiddos whether I wanted to be working or not, so I just gave myself over to it. It was the first time since I started writing toward publication that I didn’t feel utterly guilty…