Find Me Here

Buy My Book!

Street Address
City, State, Zip Code

Subscribe to Blog!

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Designed By:

Munchkin Land Designs Elements by Flergs

Categories

writing

My Life As A lil Purple Dragon

IMG_3282.JPG

It is truly disconcerting when one sees himself living the life of a lil purple dragon…In my case, his name is Spyro and he’s the character in a video game my son has owned for years. Spyro’s main goal in life is to chase talisman and orbs all while dodging green frogs, flying square shaped objects as well as some kind of winged pig looking thingy. His main goal is to conquer RIPTO – an orange fat blob with a strange looking horn on his head.  Spyro has to either shoot it, charge it or dodge it. I’m either charging when I should be shooting and dodging when I should be charging.  When one is 44, somehow it is not very fun to watch yourself dressed as a lil purple dragon running slap dab into ginormous boulders and sailing right off a very high cliff; thus missing your target completely and having to start all over again. Finally, right when you think you’re steady on your feet, you’re actually  tumbling over the edge of the cliff; where your lil dragon nose heads straight into the bright blue sea.

To me, It’s exhausting.

To my children, it’s pure, unadulterated delight. They think it is knee slapping, gut wrenching delishisness to watch mommy blow fire from her purple nostrils, (when there’s nobody within a good ten feet to even be singeing) pummeling full force towards my desired enemy (usually something very big and very blue) only to zip right past him and alienating the wizard who is trying his best to give me his advice and dole out a few tricks to help me.

Truly. Mind numbing. And yet, the story of my life.

Need an example?

I was settling in with our new home, in our new life with a new set of rules.  I’ve picked back up Bella Blue and I’m moving and grooving with my writing. Bella Blue makes me happy when I sink into her world and I gave myself  the deadline of finishing book numero 3 September 1, 2015.

Then I charged right into a big blue thingamagiggy: She Speaks Writers Conference.

I was so excited to be going; it’s been awhile since I’ve been to a conference.  “It will be life changing!” I told myself, “Do it, Sissie, head in that direction!” I gleefully exclaimed. “You might even be able to ‘book it up a notch and throw some fiery fabulousness on one of their agents and or publishers!”  Me and my purple wings flapped mightily as we checked out the box that read ‘make publisher/agent appointment’

And then it came: the big ole bolder: the detailed list of all the agents and publishers that would be present and what they were looking for. Not one of them wanted anything to do with a children’s book…..

Sigh

BUT … what the agents and publishers were looking for was something I did have: a self help or memoir.  I’ve already written about 80 % of the thing.  I even wrote a 22 page book proposal.  So what did I do? I hurled Bella Blue slap over the edge of a cliff and in true Spyro fashion, I began dodging Bella Blue isms and charging after my self help memoir.  In the last 6 weeks, I’ve probably spent about 300 hours perfecting my self help memoir, she was SO close to being ready.

But then, I finally slowed my lil purple dragon pace to a stop and really began to think about what exactly I was charging straight for.  The book may be ready but AM I READY?! Did I really want to do this? An I actually ready to share my story?

Me thinks not right now…..

Instead of being discouraged and frustrated with myself for getting so completely off course, I’m going to take the rest of the time off until after my She Speaks Conference.  It is the summer and my children miss me.  I have been in total Spyro mode for the last 6 weeks and it’s time to quit flapping my dragon wings and just…well just..be…

Izzy wants to go kayaking.  Jake is coming home for the rest of the summer.  Our family beach trip is the next week.  Sometimes, a lil purple dragon has rest her fiery nostrils and reassess her priorities.

And then…. come back and kick Ripto’s booty!

Pink Puffed Cotton Candy Head

cotton candies,food,snacks,treats,sticks,desserts
Being a single momma does not leave a girl with much time to do “nothing.”  Or anything that is considered “silly,” “a waste of time” or “fruitless.”  Especially when one (meaning me) feels like they are trapped inside a cotton candy machine, and can’t seem to find their way out ~ I need to keep myself focused on what’s important.  I am not in a particularly  joyful mood these days.  I’m like… trying to to get myself situated over here by: learning to tweet (I still and will forever feel like a twit ~ who in the poopy cares what I’m doing throughout my day, I don’t even care to know what I’m doing throughout my day?!)
And that dreaded point system that I so loudly declared I was doing… Have I really even started on it or am I just now starting to start seriously or merely considering to start? Hmmmm?  As if this is not enough on a girls plate, I’m working on my second book and gave myself the deadline of June 1. 2013 to finish it. It would be much easier to meet said goal if I allowed myself to sit down and actually peck away at the computer instead of staring at it and then madly rushing out the door to avoid being alone with it….
Next, there’s those ‘people’ I live with…you know the boy and the girl??? They need my attention too.  Cooking, cleaning, mixed in with trying to exercise ~ which is supposed to clear your brain when you feel as though you have wad of puffed cotton candy lodged inside your head and can’t seem to push past it….anyhow, you get the picture.  I’m busy.  I don’t have time to “waste.”
This brings me to my point: Yesterday morning, I’m rushing around like a wild chicken, throwing colored papers, ribbon, hole punchers, markers etc into a bag as I dash out the door.  Since I woke up at 3:45a.m., one would assume, my brain would not be all puffed cotton candy; that it would be calm and clear, right?  No such luck. Foggier than ever.  I’m tearing down the street when a Nosy Busy Body calls me on the phone.
Nosy Busy Body: “Wanta go out to lunch?”
Moi: “No, I can’t.  I’m headed to do a kindergarten authors visit this morning and I will have just enough time to get back to pick up Izzy from school.  Sorry.”
Nosey Busy Body: “Why would you bother to do an authors visit to little kids who don’t even know what you’re talking about? Are you getting paid?”
Moi: “Errrrrr um no, I never get paid for my author visits but I ~”
Nosy Busy Body: “You have to be home to pick up Izzy? Sissie, you live across the street, the child is 13, she doesn’t care if you pick her up from school. Let her walk!  It’s stupid!!! And that authors visit, you know a bunch of 5 year olds won’t be paying attention to you.  You’re wasting your breath!  Come on, bag it and come to Aiken with me!  Just say you forgot.  It’s nothing.”
As I hung up my phone, I started thinking: maybe Nosy Busy Body is right?  Do these little people even care if I come?  Do I?  Shouldn’t I be home on my computer or tweeting or blogging or something worth while?  And yes, I do live across the street from the school. Why do I kill myself every single day to get there 30 minutes early so I can be one of the first mothers in line?  Am I just wasting my time with this as well? Ugggggg, how can I tell what is wasting my time and what is not?  Oh this puffy cloud of cotton candy, I wish it would float over my head and out of my life so I could start thinking clearly again…
Nevertheless, I drove to the kindergarten class to make my authors visit.
I told the children how Bella Blue was having a terrible day, that she wanted to be the best at something and she took things too far, she broke the rules and as a result, Bella Blue fell and broke her arm.  Now, Bella Blue had to think of something/anything to make her day go better.  “Was it even possible?”  I asked the children.  Even though they were only five years old, did they have bad days too?
“Oh yes!!!” They all squealed! “I have a bad day when my little sister pinches me!”  Said one.  “I have a bad day when my tummy hurts!” Shouted another.  And yet another “I have a bad day right this very day!!” A little fella said, all puckered faced.
“Well good grief!”  I told the lil fella.  “You know, Bella Blue figures how to make her day go better….”
“How?! How?” The little fella asks all, jumpy and excited.
“She stops thinking about herself, her own sad day and she asks God to put somebody on her heart to bless.  And you know what? God always will.  You just have to ask.”
So yesterday, on this day that I was sure I was going to have a wasted dratted blah blah day, I sat down with 3 kindergarten classes and we all forgot about ourselves and made homemade get well cards for sick children in the hospital…Photo: The Kindergarten Class at Reid Memorial made cards for sick children in the hospital!  :)
I watched them, they were all so careful to make their cards just right; perfect for somebody who was sad or sick or lonely…It is the first time in weeks that I found myself laughing and smiling….  Happy.
They were  so very proud of themselves…..I hugged them goodbye and walked down the steps and into the cool afternoon thinking about those sweet babies ~  All the way home, I kept wondering if they would ever know how much they blessed me by allowing me to bless them?
Photo: Authors visit with Reid Memorial's kindergarten class :) Precious!!
I arrived just in time to be the third momma in our carpool line to get Izzy. You may think this is a time waster and that’s ok. But as for me:  I know that my time is limited where she will actually want her momma to be there first in line; that very shortly she will think I am a complete idiot and run from me and not to me.  It is these days that I cherish and have decided that they are indeed not time wasters, not silly and not stupid.  It is what works for me and my sweet family ~ small but mighty.

Viva ing Las Vegas

I didn’t finish my 50,000 words to complete my ‘novel in 30 days’ for the National Writing month. My daughter was very, very disappointed in me.
Me: “Izzy, I’m not going to be able to continue working on this book. I’ve got 35,000 words but next week is Thanksgiving and the week after that I’m going to Las Vegas. There’s not enough of me to do everything.” I moaned as I yanked the turkeys gizzard from it’s soon to be rotting carcass.
Izzy: “No, momma, you made a commitment and you need to stick by it.”
Me:  “Errrrr ummmm. But I’m getting overwhelmed. I’m doing all the shopping, cooking and taking everything to the The Honey’s house so we can all have a family dinner there.”  I say as I stick $47.00 worth of grapes onto a fruit  arrangement.
Izzy:  “You can do it.”
Me:  “Errrrr. ummmm. I can?”  I whimper as I ironed the linen napkins.  (Which, BTW… was directly after I hand sewed the ripped lace on three of them.)
Izzy:  “You said it…”
The guilt of not finishing my book slapped me in the face so I typed away and got to 40,000 words. Our Thanksgiving dinner came and went. It was fabulous, the food delicious and nobody killed anybody. Maybe I could finish my manuscript before I went to Vegas? Did I really need to go to Vegas? Shouldn’t I stay home and peck endlessly for hours on end to finish my novel in a month?  Wouldn’t that be the more mature thing to do?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

nah….