Category Archives: As I see it

The Road Not Taken

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This weekend, as my family and I explored the mountains, I was reminded of the all time classic poem,The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost.  This poem has found a special place in my heart.

Everyday I’m presented with choices. Endless. Unrelenting. Choices.  It starts the second I wake up.  Do I sleep in today?  What should I wear? What should I feed the kids for breakfast?  For most, choosing the better choice isn’t hard.  Well, except with sleeping in, that’s a beast.

Then there are those choices where the outcome isn’t clear.  How should I discipline the kids? Should I eat artificial sweeteners? How much time should I spend writing instead of being with my kids?  Having to choose when the path is unclear is troubling.  If I discipline incorrectly am I creating monsters?  Will I get cancer from my Diet Coke? Will my children resent me as adults because I chose to write?

When things are rough and I’m feeling overwhelmed I know I choose the easier path, even when it is heading in a direction I don’t want to go.  I sleep in, eat brownies, and (gasp) yell. The problem with the easy path is that it is so enticing.  I’ll admit, I don’t want trial in my life. I hate confrontation and discord more than heights, snakes, and spiders combined. However, hating trials don’t mean that they don’t seek me out.  I have battles everyday, just like everyone else.

In the end, I must decide on where I want go.  Having a goal helps to steer in the right direction.  If I want to trim my waist line I have to stop haunting my kitchen hunting for treats.  If I want my children to speak kindly to each other I have to speak kindly to them.  If I want more time writing and working toward finishing my book, I have to spend less time watching TV and browsing the internet.

I have to take the road not taken.  Even when it’s hard.  Especially when it’s hard.

Image by 💚🌺💚Nowaja💚🌺💚 from Pixabay

The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Everything I need to know about life I learned from Spongebob

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spongebob

Be happy about everything.

There is always a reason to laugh.

Find joy in everything you do.

You don’t have to have a lot of friends, just a best friend.

Be creative.

Always try new things.

Live life with a sense of wonder.

It’s okay to like your job.

Take pride in your home, even if it’s a pineapple.

Love your neighbors, no matter who they are.

There’s always time for jelly fishing.

It’s okay to cry.

Always assume the best about people.

Ignore the negative.

Driving is over rated.

There’s nothing wrong with doing your best work.

Keep it clean.

Seek out adventure.

It’s okay to be scared sometimes.

Be flexible.

Never hesitate to give a helping hand.

Appreciate music in all of its forms.

You don’t have to be smart to be happy.

Blowing bubbles is fun for all ages.

Visit your mother often.

Hygiene is important.

You don’t have to be rich to be happy.

What other people think about you doesn’t matter.

Plan your “Best Day Ever.”

Always show gratitude.

Having a goofy laugh isn’t a bad thing.

Every day is a beautiful day.

All images are used here under Fair Use for discussion, review, and educational commentary. They belong to their respective copyright owners. 

Losing Momentum, Finding Balance

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I can’t believe it, I’ve done it to myself again. I’ve been drawn in by an illusion and have become lost in a false sense of reality.  It’s a vicious cycle, I’ll start a new project or get a terrific idea and find myself obsessing over every detail and spending every last moment possible working and tweaking and fixing and whatnot.

Currently, I’m coming down from a brief obsessive cycle of trying to keep up with all the blogs I follow.  I want to read everything and comment on everything and be a presence in the blogging sphere. Problem is, I follow dozens of prolific blogs.  Reading and catching up with what everyone is doing takes a huge amount of time.

The obsession before that (which I’m a little ashamed to admit) was playing Sims.  My little digital people needed me to take care of them!  It took about two weeks to realize how pointless it was spending time playing a game that ultimately didn’t go anywhere.

Before that I learned everything I could about the use of essential oils.

Somewhere before that I spent endless hours attempting to create a following on Twitter.

Before that, while it was still cold and miserable around here, I fixated on what I would plant in my garden.

Earlier, I experimented with freelance writing jobs from text mills such as Textbroker and Copify.

Now I’m seeking balance.  I really want to finish writing this book, it’s been hanging over my head for way too long.  But, I also want to build up a strong fan base here using the blog and other social media.  I used to suffer from the delusion that all it took to become the next big thing was to publish a decent book.  After a few years of working the field, attending conferences, and rubbing elbows with other writers, I know that dream is like playing the lottery.  Sure, some people will strike it big right out the gate without all the hassle of building a fan base; but, the rest of us have to work to succeed.

When I started blogging back in 2010 I worked my tail off trying to get a post up every day and managed to do it for nearly a year.  I spent so much time on the blog that I didn’t realize that I was no longer working actively on my WIP, it was always in my mind but meeting my self-inflicted deadlines for the blog took priority.  Now, three years later, I know I don’t have time to post daily and still make progress on my book.  Three posts a week is still plenty.

I don’t nearly tweet as much as I should, but I do tweet the important stuff.  If I’m stuck somewhere with nothing better to do I’ll go over and interact with whoever is tweeting items of interest.

There’s Facebook in there as well. I’ll admit I prefer reading Facebook to Twitter because the things my friends post there are generally more interesting.  While I’m not nearly as active on my author page as I should be, I’m ok with it.

It’s important to have priorities or the things that matter most don’t get done.  My writing priorities start with working on the book, then blogging, then everything else.  That is, until the next obsession rolls around…

Being a Mom and a Writer

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I’m a very creative person.  I’m so creative, I create people.  Three of them to be exact, and each enough different from the other that there is no user’s guide, no “What to Expect When…” book, that covers them all.

I’m not talking about fictional characters here, although I’ve created dozens of those as well.  I’m talking about walking, talking, screaming, whining, hugging, cuddly little kids.  They are the reason I get up in the morning, and the reason I’m so happy to get back into bed at night.  They fill my every waking hour with surprises, challenges, and messes.

                         My Groupies

I love my little monkeys, from their toothy smiles to their dirty feet.  Every minute of the day they are there, reminding me how needed I am in their world.

I remember when I came home with my first child.  Leaving the hospital, I had this weird paranoia that a nurse was going to stop us at any minute and tell us that we weren’t qualified to take a baby home with us.  And as first time parents, we probably weren’t.  Qualifications are measured in spit up stains, diaper changing speeds, and being able to find lost binkies in the dark.  No one comes with those skills built in, they are gained with experience.

Being a mom means finding solutions.  Everyday there are countless questions and problems to be solved.  What’s for lunch? Where are the keys? How do you remove crayon from tile? Where did the baby go?  It’s a relentless task that refuses to be put on hold, even for a potty break.

On the flip side, being a writer means long hours in thought finding the best way to present a scene, or construct an essay.  Many of these hours are spent in front of a screen typing in these fragile thoughts that are likely to shatter when disturbed.  Sometimes it takes a while of churning out text before we find what we really want to say.  The rest of those hours happen in our heads as we work on everything else from driving to sleeping.

Being a mom and a writer is an impossible situation.  Children, especially young children, require endless immediate intervention to keep them from harm’s way.  Writing while they are awake ends up being an exercise in frustration.  Writing while they are asleep is unpredictable.

Although it is impossible, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  If I didn’t have my kids I wouldn’t be the person I am today.  They have taught me confidence, humility, and grace. At the same time, being a writer brings an added dimension to my life.  It’s a challenge and a reward.  One day I would love my kiddos to hold up a favorite book and be able to say, “Hey, my Mom wrote this!”

Writers and fad diets don’t mix

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Grapes_in_a_bowl

I’m staring at a blank screen, it’s hard to think.  Images of sandwiches and pasta won’t leave me alone.  Writing an emotional scene between characters doesn’t really work when all I want them to do is sit down and enjoy a nice supper. Fantasy world food is always enticing, think of thick stews, juicy roasted meats, soft warm breads with fresh butter, and hand aged cheeses.

This is day two of attempting a three day detox diet and the only thing that I can think of is how much I want to just chew on something.  It’s odd really, I’m not that hungry.  I just want to chew.  This particular diet is three days of blender disasters. Kale, spinach, coconut oil, avocado, and an endless parade of fruit all get pulverized to a multihued sludge that reminds me of vomit.  It doesn’t taste that much better.

One of the sad truths of writing is that it’s a sedentary affair.  It requires lots of time in front of a screen thinking and for me, snacking.  Over the last few months I’ve amped up my writing goals and with it the pounds have started to sneak on.

Fad diets are not a solution to this problem, lifestyle changes are.  There are standing and treadmill desks to keep moving while laying down text.  There are the snacks we choose to munch on, choosing grapes instead of chocolate chips.  There are the other hobbies, I know many writers that are runners as well.  In the end it has to balance out.  

As for me, I’ll be so glad when this diet is over.

The Perfect Book

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512px-Old_book_-_Les_Miserables

We all have our favorites, those books that are never far from our night stands. They are the worn and comfortable books that we keep coming back to year after year, like an old friend. What is it about those books that hold our attention even after the surprises are gone?

Everyone has different things that they look for in a great book.  For some, the story comes first above all else.  For others it might be a strong romantic connection between the characters.  As a writer it is important for me to recognize what makes different books great so that while writing my own I can bring all the good parts together and create a story that will resonate with readers.

For me, the most important element of a book are its characters.  Not only must they be well-written and well-rounded, they must have something about them that I find fascinating.    For some characters this might be a great back story, for others it might be a problem they must overcome.  In the end, I must care about what happens to these people and I must want to know more about them.

The story comes in close second. A great story has the power to captivate and hold my attention. It is hard to put down and even when I’m not reading I’ll think about it.  For it to do that it must be meaningful.  The characters must have real stakes against them and something either very painful or very personal to lose.  

The more I read the more I realize how important it is for a book to have beautiful prose.  I want to be able to fall into a lush weaving of words, not just read a story.  There are few authors that have mastered this skill. Sue Monk Kidd is one of my favorite authors just because her prose is beautiful.

 Last but not least is creativity.  In fantasy writing I want to be amazed by what worlds the author can create and what magic lies in them.  In standard literature I want to be surprised at solutions to problems and at twists in the plot.  All books are a result of creativity, however some have the power to grab my imagination better than others. 

How about you dear reader?  What do you look for in the perfect book? Share your thoughts below!

Enter the Summer

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This week marks the end of structured days of kids in school and the beginning of summer vacation.  For kids, this is a magical time of freedom, discovery, and lots of play.  For parents, this time comes with mixed emotions. There is no longer the pressure of the morning school rush and all its battles, but there are also whole long days of nothing on the calendar.

For me, I’m looking forward to the change.  There are so many fun things I want to do with my kids that were too complicated to manage during school.  Now is the time for swimming lessons, day camps, play dates, sleepovers, summer crafts, and lots of outside play.

At the same time I’m terrified.  I need structure.  The thought of having whole days with nothing on the calendar is very daunting.  My first instinct is to go a little crazy and create a mommy school where my kids can grow their minds and hone their skills.  There would be field trips where we would have in-depth discussions about science and art.  I would become super mom plus, and drive myself crazy planning and creating activities.

Then I realize, I also have a toddler who will make most of these plans really difficult.  Having one-on-one time with older children to focus on their needs is super important.  Doing it while wrestling a curious toddler is an exercise in patience.  Planning outings and activities is harder when nap schedules need to be considered.

This summer can’t all be about the kids either.  I have goals as well.  I would love to make some real headway on the current draft of my book.  To do so requires hours of work at the computer, undisturbed when possible.  There will be less of those with the kids home, yet I feel there should be more now that I don’t have to drive the taxi to school and back.  This might just be the summer that the kids learn that mommy needs time to work on her projects as well.

I wish I could say I have a brilliant plan about how this is all going to work.  With only a few days left I better start making one or the summer is going to slip away before we even get started!

To all those parents out there, good luck! May this summer vacation be the best one yet.

Soccer and Herding Cats

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My favorite shorty

The battle lines are drawn, the players are ready.  Well . . . almost. One of the players is swinging from the goal post, and another won’t leave his mothers lap.  Half the defending team has their backs turned to the ball because the ice cream truck has driven by, three are already making a bee line to their parents screaming to get a treat.  Several players on offence have tackled each other to the ground in fits of giggles and screams.  And we pay to be a part of it.  Every year.

Coaches for preschool soccer have a tough job.  First, they must keep all the children on the field.  This is harder than it sounds. Children move like a group of cats, running in every which direction the wind takes them.  The children that the coaches manage to get on the field then must be herded towards the ball and convinced to kick it in a specific direction, namely, the goal.  There are always one or two that understand how the game works and will dutifully run and usually kick the ball out-of-bounds.  Other duties of the coaches include tying shoe laces, scooping downed children back on their feet, removing children from the goal posts, and being endlessly positive and perky.  They make nowhere near enough for all that.

The only thing that might be more amusing than watching the game is to listen to the parents in the side lines.  At the beginning of the season expectations are high and parents shout and cheer for their little one to kick goals or steal the ball from the other team.  As the season progresses these cheers change to more practical goals like not throwing fits when they don’t get a turn, or when someone breathes on them.  If you closed your eyes you might almost imagine you were at a dog park.  “Where’s the Ball Baby? Get the ball, get the ball!  Good girl! Way to go!” 

At times as a parent it is necessary to make a few ridiculous rules to preserve some family dignity.  My #1 rule to my daughter – There is no crying in soccer.  She believed me for about the first five practices before she realized she’d been duped.  Another ridiculous rule – keep your shirt down.  For some reason soccer jerseys only come in one size for the little kids, super large.  The temptation of pulling the circus tent like shirt up and over the head for some is too hard to resist.

In the end, the pictures are taken, the trophies are given, and we all cheer that the season is over.

Holding on and Letting go

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IMG_1624Hubby and I spent time this weekend cleaning out the vast graveyard that is our closet. It seems that whenever there isn’t an obvious home for something somewhere else in the house it ends up being shoved in the corners and on the upper shelves of our small walk in.  In time the habit of squirreling things away in there starts taking its toll and it’s time to purge.

For some things making a decision about whether they should stay or go is easy;  especially things that aren’t expressly mine like the old GPS, a boardgame, and a set of sheets that are no longer used.  Lots of broken, outdated, and useless things were sorted and dealt with without a second thought.

Then there are the other things that I don’t want to make decisions about, the things that had goals and dreams attached to them.  I’ve been meaning to craft a quiet book for my children as a special family gift, made with lots of love and thought.  The basket holding all the fabric, buttons, zippers and other odds and ends for this project has been sitting on top of the bin of off season clothes for the past year and a half, untouched.  I still want to finish it, but I struggle to find a bit of time where I can get out the sewing machine without being ambushed by curious children. Taking the bin to the basement makes me feel like a failure  and have given up.

The same feeling goes for the expensive running shoes that have been kicked around the floor for the past year.  At one time I had a dream to be a distance runner.  I trained and ran for about a year before the pain and injuries caught up to me. Turns out running might not be my thing.  Even though I’m ok with not being a runner, getting rid of the shoes has a finality to it that is hard to swallow.  

Things like these were the hardest things to make a decision on.  It is as if by saying it’s time to go I’m abandoning a dream, I’m giving up on something I’ve been excited about. There are things that are worth holding on to, the things that make us smile, the things that excite us.   These are the things we should surround ourselves with.  For everything else, it’s time to let go.

Embracing Imperfection

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IMG_1526It’s always hard to start something new, even when it’s something I’ve done before.  My first author blog, My Literary Quest, is geared towards fellow writers. This blog is for everyone who enjoys the written word.  Whether old or new, there is that fear that whatever I write is not good enough.  The temptation to keep erasing and rewriting the first sentence over and over never fades, even when it comes time to post.

There are a rare few people who can write a perfect draft the first try, and I suspect they aren’t human.  Being human is being imperfect and I am reminded daily that I am far from perfect.  Nor would I wish to be.  Perfect is boring.  Steven Monaco said, ““Your imperfections are what make you perfect.”

So here I am, a bundle of imperfections trying to share stories that have to power to transport the reader to another place for a time.  Come join me.