The Writing Mom's Overwhelming Day

Last post, I shared with you how October was a time where my husband was gone a lot, and I was alone with the kids. This has required me to take up my husband's chores (like I wasn't already--LOL). It's been a lot. All the stress and lack of sleep led me to yesterday.

My day started somewhere in the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. I am currently only working at Kids Krossing Drop-In Daycare once a week between the hours of 6 a.m. and noon. I seem to always run out of time and leave the house without any makeup or breakfast. Yesterday, I was the exception. I was doing great. I had time to pack my breakfast, put my makeup on, and head out the door. BUT...

The first glimpse of my bad day was using the last of my eyeliner. My guy readers, everyone woman has one article of makeup she can't live without--mine is eyeliner. I had enough for that day but knew a trip to the store was necessary.

My second clue it was going to be a typical "Alexander" day (Alexander and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day) was I had forgotten to set out the kids' clothes. Here's my dilemma--I can't go in their room and get clothes (HELLO! Do not wake your kids up at 5:30 a.m.). So I went to the basement, where I'm ALWAYS doing laundry. One glance at the laundry room, and I remember I haven't had time to properly fold and put away clean laundry. Two massive mounds of laundry draped my washer and dryer. I'm still good on time, I told myself. So I immediately started separating the mounds of draped laundry into lil Rudy, twins, and parents. I can't stop until it's finished. When it is finished, I realize in the two loads of laundry, there are no matches--shirts and underwear for lil Rudy; pants and socks for the girls. No complete outfits. Frustrated, I threw in the towel and returned upstairs, assuming (incorrectly) my husband could dress the kids.

I hop in the car and realize it's 5:48 a.m., and my workplace is a good 15 minutes away. I almost burst into tears. Wednesdays, I have to get up early and work, so it's my Starbucks treat. The whole fiasco in the basement had just cost me my chance for coffee, and I was TIRED. But I suck it up and wander through the work day like a zombie. At least I have kids to entertain me. I even had time to critique four chapters of my CP's awesome novel. For being a pretty messed up start, the day had turned out pretty good I thought.

When I went to pick up my kids, I knew right off the bat it wasn't a good day for my mom. As I pulled up the long drive to their house (this is the farm from the earlier post), my son, daughter, and niece come running for the car. I realize they aren't used to staying out of the way of moving vehicles, so I creep up the drive and stop in front of their garage. Next, I notice my grandma's car and my sister's car (she and her 3-month-old baby are visiting from NC) are missing, which means my mom has been alone with 5 kids (aged 4, 2, 2, 2, 6 months). Finally, I notice she has set out the three carseats (my husband didn't have time to switch cars with me, so I had to cram three carseats in the back of my Jeep Cherokee) and diaper bag sitting on the sidewalk. She's ready for me to go. I waste no time and load the carseats, diaper bag, and my children, except...Can you guess? Addy was nowhere to be found. We searched the back yard, the barn, and the house. Finally found her...up to no good, of course. I finally am ready to leave, and my mom says, "I think we're all going to take a nap now." Awww, poor Mom! You deserve it!

Next, I think it's a brilliant idea to go to Buckner Park (formerly called "The Water Park," because it has a splash pad). My three adorable children insist on being on three separate sections of the playground equipment, making me that irresponsible, neglectful mom. Let's face it--I can't be in three places at once. With racing heart and tightening chest, I scan the playground equipment every two minutes for three blonde heads, which is no easy feat, since they have welcomed a new friend--also blonde--to play with them. I had one blissful moment, where all three of them were on the swings, and it lasted only 20 seconds. After 20...30...45 minutes (I have no idea), I carry two screaming 2-year-olds, bark at my almost 5-year-old, and stuff them in the cramped backseat. I plop inside the passenger seat and thank God I hadn't lost any of them, they were all unharmed, and most likely worn out.

hahahahahahaha. My next great idea...let's get diapers from Target. I'll sum it up for you. DISASTER.  Here's us on our way into Target--totally my son's idea.

My husband had the stroller. First, we get diapers--the wrong size...and I don't notice until we're on our way out, and they slide off the cart in the middle of the parking lot. Second, I dream of my choice of bedding and furniture, and I decide to get a candle warmer to replace the one I have at home that doesn't work. Terrified to put it in the cart with this (see above), I ask my son to carry it and keep it safe. Fifteen seconds later and four aisles later, he drops it, and it shatters---shatters into pieces. Tears spring to my eyes, and I choke out, "Oh, Rudy!" He apologizes, begs me to go get another one, but I can't. I head straight to the makeup aisle, and I'm really scared. So many expensive things for the twins to take off the shelves, because let's face it, they won't sit down for more than 30 seconds at a time. I rush through and being a novice with makeup, I can't find the eyeliner and give up. I check out and desperately want to grab Starbucks on my way out--to make up for this morning--but realize I had no way to carry it. No guarantee it wouldn't spill all over me and the cart. And to conclude my Target fiasco, as I crossed into the parking lot, with cars stopped on both sides of me (because they're so nice), one of the boxes--size 3 and not size 5 or even 4--slides off the cart and in the middle of the street.

When we're all loaded and on our way home once more, I realize it's almost 6 p.m., and I have to make dinner. "No!" I said. "Rudy, would you like pizza for dinner?" His face lit up, and he exclaimed, "YES!"

But what made my day--made all this worth it--was when I returned to the Jeep, pizza box in hand, fresh from the oven, my quiet Addy exclaims, "Zah!" (which is pizza without the p-i). My child who never talks clearly, who lets her sister vocalize everything, takes one look at my choice of dinner and says pizza clearly.

They're growing up so fast, and part of me is so relieved. But the other part of me is thankful that even on bad days, there is joy.

(P.S. After bedtime, I heard dripping in the laundry room, so I checked the tray I had put under the drip. It was full. The lightest brush of my fingers offset the delicate balance and doused me in its disgusting water. At 9:30 p.m., my husband arrived home with Starbucks in hand to save the day).

Happy October!

I'm going to have to break up these posts, because there's too much to share, and I value your time.

Happy October, my lovely readers! I'm sitting in front of my fake fireplace, while my hot apple cider finishes brewing. It's beautiful here in Indiana. The weather has been mild--the trees bright yellows and rusty orange--and the nights cold enough to fire up the furnace.

I've been bracing for October. Now that it's almost over, I can tell you why. My husband was gone the first three weekends of October. You moms out there know exactly what this means--no breaks, little rest, and prayers for healthy kids/sound sleepers. What I didn't expect was the work load my husband would undertake with his MBA. Not only was he gone on the weekends but combine that with our prior commitments and his study nights, there wasn't a weeknight he was home.

I'm not telling you all this to complain--believe me, I'm not. I blessed his time away and enjoyed myself. I stayed up late, watching my choice of movies, cleaning the house, and catching us up on neglected chores. But that left no time for blogging--or much writing at all.

I was thrilled when October did come, however, because I arranged with my husband to drop off my kids at my church's drop-in daycare (Kids Krossing Drop-In Daycare) for three hours every week (which is 6 kid hours mind you, because lil Rudy is in preschool and I have twins). Every Thursday I now have three blessed, sacred kid-free hours to write. Yes, I've been tempted to do the millions of other errands moms need to do, but NO! This is writing time. My muse has been thrilled, and I found myself using my time much more wisely.

I'm 11 chapters in on my CP's manuscript. I've done countless hours of research for my beloved Savannah story. I even entered two contests (more on that later--I didn't make either). I'm so grateful to my husband for paying for this slice of Heaven every week. What a blessing!

As for my kids, lil Rudy is in preschool two full days a week. He's still so adorable and sweet. Always cuddly and filling my love cup with hugs and kisses. We had Mom's Day on Tuesday, and it was a blast.

I can't believe we're less than two months away from him turning 5 and less than a year from him starting Kindergarten.

The twins...are truly beautiful, inside and out. The further we get from 2, the better Mommy feels. They are currently...32 months. 

(Alaina--their cousin, Ella, Adelyn--or Addy)

Ella--aka the Dragon--hasn't lost her menacing cry of death, but when you ask her what she wants, she stops and tells you. She's the vocal one. It's common to hear her repeating everything spoken around her. She loves reading books. We're going through different Disney movies, and she's infatuated with Ariel and Eric, though she still loves Anna and Elsa. She's always singing--"Part of Your World," "Ah, Ah, Ah" (Ariel losing her voice), "Finally See the Light" (Tangled), and of course, "Let it Go." Still the boundary checker, she at least returns when I call her name or count to 3.

Adelyn--aka Addy--is the quiet, mischievous one. I was concerned for a while about her lack of speech. She rattled off frequently in her twin language but rarely said words. But if you made her mad, she would bark a whole sentence at you: "Hey, give me that! No, put me down! Stop it!" Nervous, I started spending more one-on-one time, giving her more opportunities to repeat words from books, etc. And I can report to you today, she said, "Zah!" (pizza) when I brought in the box. The one-on-one time is also helping with the trouble. [I just feel bad for Grandma (my mom--aka Most Amazing Person In The World). She's been watching all five of her grandchildren (4, 2, 2, 2, 6 months), and now my sister and her 3-month-old are visiting]. Needless to say, Addy takes advantage of her freedom by picking grandma's flowers, drawing on the wall, eating crayons...kid stuff. If you're looking for a monkey, Godzilla, or an adorable and giggly girl who likes to rough house with her daddy and brother, that's Addy. :)

My husband just walked in the door after his study night and brought me Starbucks. *sighs* He loves me. Today has been the lowest mother day I've had in a while, but after reading this, now you'll understand why. I know you can enjoy Starbucks anytime, but there's something special about sipping a hot cup of Salted Caramel Mocha in October. 

Stay tuned tomorrow for the Writing Mom's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day--aka today (but it's been building throughout this month). Happy October!

Exhaustion vs. Intentionality

I was writing this on my Facebook Author Page and decided to put this on my blog as well, because I know how much you all can relate to this, no matter your profession.

I can't believe it's Friday already! Exhaustion has taken me. This week started with work from 6-4 (I worked at Kids Krossing from 6-8:30 a.m. and then subbed a 1st grade class) on Monday and hasn't slowed since, thanks in large part to parenting a 4.5yo boy and twin 2.5yo girls. I have squeezed in some research (Savannah's Mighty 8th Air Force and Georgia from 1929-1941) and emailed my brother some history questions (he's always been my go-to person to teach me history; we once spent a family car trip discussing WWI & II), but I haven't had time and energy (one or the other--never both) to work on my new manuscript, currently titled HOARDS OF MEMORIES.

So today, I decided to be intentional. We relaxed this morning, them playing on our Wii (Wipeout) and me watching some Alias on my laptop. Then I took the kiddos to the park/splash pad and McDonalds. They are currently finishing their ice cream cones, and then I'm putting them to bed. The plan is to then work for at least an hour on my new WIP (Work In Progress). I also plan to watch some of Captain America (for research and pleasure) while I fold laundry. ;)

The life of a Writing Mom isn't easy, and this week has been a major struggle of balance, not putting in enough time for me. But I'm grateful to be here with my kids and inspired by these characters.

To be brutally honest, part of me can't wait for the ok to start the sequel to SWORDS & CINDER. It's starting to take shape in my mind, preparing me for the wild ride it will be.  :)

If you had three hours free--no work, no kids, no cleaning--what would you want to do?

The Writing Mom on a Farm

This is my parents' place. A farm in Indiana. On 12 acres. It's gorgeous. This was my view last night.

They are my heroes, seriously. My dad gave up a wonderful job--and my mom a beautiful red truck--to return to being a full time pastor. It was scary, but he was following his dream (now you know where I get it from). They decided to use their dream home (and 12 acres of land) to start a little farm. They usually raise 50 chickens at a time, out on this land, but thankfully for me, they're only raising 15 this round.

I am not a farmer. I have no skills when it comes to animals...chickens, dogs, etc.

I'll let you in a little secret. We have a cat, and I want to give her away...and have tried and failed. But Angel Kitty makes my husband and happy--and hides from my kids--so she stays. And my husband is responsible for taking care of her.

This week, my parents went to see my sister and her new baby. (Hi, Kati and baby Tom Tom!) So I packed up my 4yo boy and twin 2.5 year old girls and moved into my parents' place. Since my husband is working a lot, the bulk of the responsibility rested on my scrawny shoulders.

I had 15 chickens, a cow (not the dairy kind), and a dog to care for. It should have been easy. The dog and cow are fenced in, requiring only a morning feeding and checking their water buckets. The chickens are almost ready to go outside in the field, so they are hanging out in their area in the barn. I need to feed them and fill their water twice a day. Easy, right? Sigh.

First morning on the job--the cow and dog get out. The dog hides in the neighbor's yard, so my husband has to carry her back and lock her inside the fence. But the cow is a different story. My husband calls me at the daycare, frantic. I tell my boss the situation and head back. The two of us lead the cow back to the pen, but it has other plans. So we do our best to keep him from the road and wait on Jeff--my husband's friend, the cow expert. With Jeff's expertise and special paddles, they herd him back in the pen, while I hold the dog inside. Phew!

Are you wondering where the kids are during all this? That was my first question when I pulled in. They're strapped in the running van, watching The Little Mermaid. Trying to care for farm animals and supervise three children is not easy.

But the hardest part was itching to work on my new story and keep my kids contained. It is so hard to get my kids to sleep at someone else's house--even my parents' place. My daughter, Addy, even figured out how to unlock the doorknob in her room. So I finally give up and put on a movie for them to watch and relax. At my house, that totally works. At my parents' place? Nope.

While I'm plugging away on my computer, Addy ghosts into the only room in the house without a locked door--the laundry room. She reaches on top of the dryer and pulls down the laundry detergent--the special dye/perfume-free type--and dumps a bunch all over the floor. I flip out. I don't even know how to clean that up. Adding water to it would create a soapy monster. Plus there's the little girl covered in soap, slipping and sliding.

I toss her over my shoulder and bathe her. Then I put her in her bedroom and lock the door, threatening a spanking if she opens the door. She doesn't. Then I attempt to clean the mess.

An hour later, I finally sit down at my laptop again and have only ten minutes to work before the movie ends, my daughter calls from her bedroom, and the rest of my day begins.

I didn't choose to work on my writing the rest of the week after that ordeal.

There were more exhausting stories from the farm. My son getting stuck in a mud swamp with some sharp object stuck in the bottom of his foot (also the same day as the laundry soap). My son trapping himself in his sisters' swing. My daughter bringing me soap bottles without lids, a razor, a pair of scissors, and pen after pen after pencil after pencil--which are still in the cereal cabinet, Mom and Dad. Oh, and my favorite, Addy taking highlighters and drawing all over her face, arms, and chest. She had more baths this week than she's had since she was a baby. But I can say I'm thankful we had no potty messes. :)

I am thankful to be home again. I am not meant to take care of animals, especially chickens that peck at me when I try to get their food tray out and a cow that eyes me with distrust while I feed the dog.

Hope my stories entertained you. ;)

How is summer halfway over already?

I'm at a loss. Time is hurtling before my eyes. My twin two-year-olds are...OMG...adorably destructive. My four-year-old is doing addition on his fingers and about to have his first "preschool play date." The fact he'll be attending kindergarten in a year makes me teary. They've all lost their baby remnants. My son looks like a boy, and my girls are zooming past the "toddler" look (though I should say they still prance like toddlers, so that makes me feel better).

Today is July 11th. I don't even know how long it's been since I blogged last. And now summer is about halfway over. Next month, my son will start official preschool (we're doing the 2 full days, instead of 4 half days). I'm not ready for summer to be over. Though I have been a regular at our Fort Wayne Children's Zoo (AMAZING!), there is still so much I want to do. I want to do more family walks to Dairy Queen and trips to the zoo (with my husband, too). I want to go to the lake--go tubing on my dad's boat and play with my kids in the sand. I want to go to a local splash pad (and have a 1:1 ratio, instead of a heart-stopping 3:1).  I'm looking forward to attending our 3 Rivers Festival and the Elkhart County Fair.

What do you still want to do this summer?

I'm kinda bummed. I had a whole Memorial Day post planned, and I never sat down and wrote it. One thing I have learned since April is be intentional. If I'm not intentional, it doesn't get done. Spending time with the kids, playing and teaching. Play dates with other moms. Going out with my sisters and friends. Even seeing my family and in-laws. Cleaning and doing laundry? Unless I have a breakdown ("I cannot stand you guys trashing this house for one more minute, so you're going to your rooms.") or a planned time to clean, it doesn't happen. I shrug my shoulders. Apologize to visitors. But my focus is on my writing (which I'll get to next) and investing as much time in my kids as I can (due to my emotional realization they're growing up...too fast). Not sure if it's sad or simply ambitious. Everything else gets put on a back burner.

Now, my writing. SWORDS & CINDER is roughly 88k words as I do my final read through (deciding if anything needs cut or tweaked). It's 317 pages (for my lovely family and friends who are bored to tears of me talking their ears off and have no idea how many words books have). I have finished rewriting the ENTIRE novel, adding world building--yes, I created a whole world--and expanding my character's voice. I decided I needed to add two new chapters at the beginning to establish a normalcy for my MC before I work my magic. ;)  Then, I dealt with a change to a minor plot point and rewrote a couple other chapters. Then I consulted my sister, psychology major and currently working on her master's degree, for her insight on a couple chapters of the book. I wanted to make sure my characters were acting in a realistic way. She helped me rework the crux of the matter, and I'm so thankful (Thanks, Kati!).

But the biggest surprise here was my husband. Here's some background for you. He read my first two chapters of draft 2. He didn't hate it, but he couldn't find anything nice to say about it. I'll be honest. I was hurt, but more than hurt, I was mad. Half a dozen people were reading it and loved it. How DARE he not appreciate my gift! And here I am more than six months later, and he's my best source of honesty. Now, I don't agree with everything he says. I don't listen to the exact words he uses. I look into what he's trying to say. He has great insight into what works and what doesn't. He is by no means a "writer's critique partner" but gives wonderful feedback as a reader. Now, he's my number one go-to person. Especially after losing a dear CP. I feel for her though. She is trying to find uninterrupted writing time with a one-year-old. Poor thing!

Next week is it--Querying Time--at least the beginning of my official submission process. It's weird to finally feel it's ready. It's been a long road to get here. I'm madly in love with this story, and I can't wait to find the one agent (or more) who feels the same way I do.

And I think that's why I feel stunned that summer is halfway over. I had planned to send this out June 1st...before summer officially began. And here I am--halfway through summer--and just starting my querying journey. By the end of July, I'll be officially in the thick of things--hopefully with a few partial or full requests.

But I'm finally ready. :)

My Dream

In 2006, I graduated college with a degree in Elementary Education.  Since then, I have worked as a teacher's aide, a substitute, a Sunday School teacher, a youth group leader, an assistant basketball coach, an assistant choir leader, and countless other experiences with children and youth.  In my most recent history, I worked for five years as a classroom teacher for an inner-city charter school in downtown Fort Wayne.  I loved it--all of it!

But when you have a four year old boy and twin two year old girls, life as you know it changes forever.  And I wouldn't change a thing.

Throughout all my history of employment--from McDonalds to college alumni telemarketer (so to speak--I called alumni, asked their experience at said college, and then asked for money--I hated it) to classroom teacher, I have always lived in the moment.  Relishing each experience and soaking up all it had to teach me.  When I had kids, I loved being home with them.  I cried when I went back to work.  But ultimately, I was grateful to have employment--a break from the stress of being a new mommy.  My coworkers were family to me, and I will always feel a strong bond to them, no matter where they relocate.

But my 5th year of teaching, all this changed.  I loved teaching.  I loved the kids in my class--though some of them were a handful.  I loved collaborating with other teachers and creating new units of study and hands-on activities.  The thing I loved the most was the opportunity to write.  I wrote all sorts of pieces--fiction, nonfiction, poetry, essays, fairytales, and stories with a lesson.  I shared these pieces with my coworkers, and they shared it with their classes.  The students were amazed that one of their teachers wrote these stories.  I was grateful to offer something to our school.  Because this is the truth.  Though I was great with kids and teaching, I never felt the same fire I saw in the other teachers.  I was missing something they had.  Ambition.  I didn't care about being the teacher of the year.  When I found out my school was closing, I didn't feel despair or displaced.  I was relieved.  My heart broke for my coworkers and students, though.  Our school had transformed into the most amazing educational experience I have ever been a part of, and I did not want to see it end.  But as for me, I was ready to leave it all behind.  And I've never felt like that before.  It scared me.

For once in my life, I didn't sit out and plan my life.  I asked God to show me what to do.  And deep inside me, he awakened a dream.  A dream that had always been there.  I just hadn't ever taken hold of it.  In my previous post, I explained how I wrote CINDERFELLA and shared it with my class.  They asked me if I was going to be a writer when the school closed.  At the time, I had no idea.  I didn't know what to say.  I mumbled something about how you can be a teacher and a writer.  But that was the day the dream took root inside me and began to grow.

For the next eight months or so, my sole focus has been on writing a real, grownup novel.  It went from 10 pages to 20k words to 40k words to 50k words.  Now, it's 205 pages and 64k words and still growing.  I've learned so much about writing from so many people.  I'd be thrilled if I could write novels for the rest of my life.  I'm already grateful to be home with my kids during the day and take one day a week to devote 5 hours of nonstop writing.  I'm even willing to wake up before 6 a.m. (like today) and get in 2 hours of writing before my kids wake.

But on Wednesday, April 16th, a new dream merged with my dream of writing/becoming a published author.  That dream began with a friend of mine asking me to visit her class in the middle of the country in New Haven, Indiana.  I walked into her spacious classroom, filled with 3rd and 4th graders.  I was fairly invisible to them.  They were lost in their reading and activities.  But when I was introduced, they welcomed me with eager smiles.  I sank into the familiar teacher rocking chair, while the students gathered around me in chairs and legs crisscrossed on the floor.  As I engaged them in conversation about writing and publishing, inspiration and beloved books/movies, I fell in love.

This type of interaction with students didn't require late night grading, early morning copying and planning, or conferences at dinner time.  This was 30 minutes of connecting with the future writers of our world.  I stirred their own dreams and answered their questions.  And then came my favorite part.  I read them the first two pages of SWORDS & CINDER.  Their gazes were locked on my face.  Not a word escaped their lips.  And when I stopped, they simultaneously cried out, "No!"  One asked me, "Is there more?"  I laughed.  Of course there's more.

Another begged me to keep reading, but I told them, "My time is up, but look for me in two years.  SWORDS & CINDER." They asked my name again, and I said, "Karen Mahara."

After my 30 minutes, I received several hugs, a few words from other dream writers, and a slip of paper and pen thrust in my hand.  A young boy with dark brown hair looked up at me and asked, "Can I have your autograph?"  I almost cried.  I almost cried the whole way home.  I told God, "If this is what you have planned for my future, I couldn't be happier."

So that's it--my dream--to write novels, be agented and published, to gain a passionate readership, and travel to schools telling my story and stirring other dreamers to do the same.

3 Under 5: Spring Edition

WELCOME, SPRING!!!!
INDIANA HAS MISSED YOU SO!

April has arrived, and for me, that's when spring begins.  This is because our "spring" break in Indiana is usually the first week of April.

This spring break was doubly blessed for me.

One year ago, while on spring break, I sat down in my tiny backyard, basking in spring break's beauty...aka, time off from work...to write my first draft of CINDERFELLA.  My 2nd grade class was finishing a unit on fairy tales, and they had requested I read my version of a fairy tale.  I surrendered to my muse and wrote ten pages, which I later read to my 2nd graders.  That was the beginning of a dream and a story that has since exploded.  SWORDS & CINDER is currently just under 60k words, a YA fantasy/retelling.

The second blessing was a road trip to North Carolina to see my middle sister (I have 3), who is pregnant with her first baby.  I loved it!  We drove to the beach (25 min.), unleashed the kids in their fenced-in backyard, toured a fort and aquarium, explored their church (complete with my twin girls taking turns running away from me while our hosts grabbed bread pudding for us and hubby took our son to the bathroom), and ate dinner at a delicious oceanfront restaurant (where I fed the kids a monster ice cream cake for "dinner-dessert" which arrived long before our food...which meant I spent the rest of "dinner" trying to keep the twins in their seats and interested in whatever youtube videos I could find with 9% battery power left on my phone).  We traveled by nightfall, which worked well on the way there, but resulted in showing FROZEN on our DVD player (PTL for technology) two separate times when each twin or their brother woke up cramped and crying.  In conclusion, I LOVE NORTH CAROLINA and want to move there someday...but would love it all the more if I lived next door to my sister--Kati.  Hubby and kids loved making sand castles...girls loved running free...I loved the sunrises (yes, Adelyn decided to wake up before dawn every day we were there...and refused to nap), crashing waves, balmy environment, and loved ones all around me.

But we came home to Indiana weather...just above freezing (upper 30s) with rain, wind, and occasional flakes in there somewhere.  Today, Saturday morning dawned with brisk winds and blue skies.  After hubby left for worship practice at our church (p.s. He's performing an original song this Sunday!), I strapped shoes and winter coats on the kids.  I loaded "double trouble" (twin 2yo girls--DT) in a wagon and followed my son on his tricycle.  We made it to the park.  My son took a couple swings while I chased DT up the TALL slide.  I mean tall...the tallest slide at the park...that has three different slides and two different ladders.  I was terrified Ella (my Ella Bella Cinderella) would fall backwards off the ladder...forwards off the other ladder...or trip and fly on her belly down the slide.  I was so nervous I forgot something very important.  Something that EVERY parent must check on a slide in the spring.  Water...at the bottom.  There was water.  Not just two drops or a small puddle.  A colossal lake dominating the entire base of the three side-by-side slides.

Go ahead and ask me.  When did I see it?  About 1.5 sec before Adelyn crashed through it.

What was her reaction?  Nothing.  I set her down on the ground, and she stood there, legs spread wide apart, pants soaked through.

Then I realized...too late...I have TWO coming down the slide.  I turn around, ready to snatch my less adventurous daughter from the icy lake.  But I was too late.  I grabbed her out of the water (soaked through 1.5 of her pant legs).  And she screamed.  Ella's scream isn't just a cry of alarm.  It's not something that breaks your heart.  Or stirs your sympathy.  It's the call of a menacing creature of death.  We call it "the dragon scream."  Amidst her screeches, I pick her up and cradle her against me, trying to calm the dragon.  Then I grab her sister's hand and lead us back to the wagon and tricycle.

End of story?  Haha! No.  Addy yanks her hand away from mine, as we pass the swings.  I call her over.  I say goodbye.  I turn my back (peering at her over my shoulder) and load my son and Ella into the wagon.  Addy jumps up and down crying, until I turn back to her.  Then she stops and points to the swings.  I sigh.  Picking her up, I set her on the "grownup kids" swing and give her a push.  She swings back and forth.  My other kids watch from the wagon, unconcerned, waiting.  Then I hold out my arms.  She jumps off and lands it.  Then we run toward the wagon.

She tries to ride the tricycle, but her little legs are too short.  So I let her run free, while I hoist the tricycle over my shoulder and pull the wagon.  She lags behind and then races to catch us.  Runs ahead and stops for us to catch up, though she can't really outrun me.  I'm supermom!

We're almost home, so I put her on my son's lap in the wagon.  She sags back against him, and I think, "Yes!  She's going to nap today."

When we reach the front door, I announce lunch time.  No takers!  Addy runs for our neighbor's swing.  Rudy runs for our slide, begging for a little more time to play.  Ella...I'll admit it.  I wasn't ready to awaken the dragon just yet.  So I drag everyone to our tiny back yard.  Peeling back the lid of our sandbox, I reveal sand...not NC sand...Indiana mud/sand concoction.  But they take the bait.  So I drag the slide to the backyard, turn off the heat inside, open the front and back doors, and swing on my weathered and chipped wooden swing.  I think to myself, "This is the life."

North Carolina life?  No.
Spring break life?  No.
Wealthy/American Dream life?  No.
But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Nap time.  Writing Mom out. ;)