Mommy Needs Some Music

When I was going through a tough time during university, one of my girlfriends gave me a Scott Krippayne CD.  “Sometimes He Calms the Storm” made her think of me.  I put it into my stereo and over the next months, I listened to that song over and over again.  I clung to that image of Jesus holding me close while the storm whirled around me: 

Sometimes he calms the storm

With a whisper "peace be still"

He can settle any sea

But it doesn’t mean He will

Sometimes He holds us close

And lets the wind and waves go wild

Sometimes He calms the storm

And other times He calms his child.

Recently, my mom sent me a new MercyMe CD.  The CD player in her car had broken so she’d been listening to the radio lately.  “Beautiful” was one of the songs she heard frequently and she cried the first time she heard it.  So did I. 

Days will come when you don’t have the strength,

When all you hear is “you’re not worth anything.”

Wondering if you ever could be loved and

If they truly saw your heart they’d see too much.

You’re beautiful.  You’re beautiful.

You are made for so much more than all of this.

You’re beautiful.  You’re beautiful.

You are treasured, you are sacred, you are His.

You’re beautiful.

There are other songs that have made me stop to listen again.  Randy Travis' song "Three Wooden Crosses" sent chills down my spine the first time I heard it working as a cashier at a Husky gas station.  John Michael Carrol's song "Alyssa Lies" brought a lump to my throat.  Ray Boltz's song "The Hammer" sent me to my knees on the kitchen floor I was washing one quiet Saturday afternoon.  But while those songs touched me emotionally, "Sometimes He Calms the Storm" and "Beautiful" touched me spiritually as well.  They drew me back to the Father, to a deeper understanding of God's work in my life.

Nowadays, I’m more likely to be listening to “The Wheels on the Bus” or “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” than Scott Krippayne or MercyMe.  There are days, though, when I tell Sunshine that it’s Mommy’s turn to listen to some music and I put in one of the CDs that has touched me so deeply.

Book Review: Story Engineering

The drive to Alberta and back gave me a chance to finish reading Story Engineering: Mastering the 6 Core Competencies of Successful Writing by Larry Brooks.  I requested the book for review with my novel in mind, hoping that I'd gain a few tips that would help me in revising Dream of Peace.  With each chapter, I thought about how I could apply what I was learning to my novel—and find that I'm excited now to start the rewriting process.

As the title indicates, Brooks compares writing a story to engineering.  He suggests that, just as engineers and architects design blueprints before building a skyscraper, so writers should also have a blueprint before beginning a novel (or screenplay or short story).  No one would go dig a few holes in the ground and start pouring concrete and just see what sort of building appeared; thus it's ludicrous for writers to start out on a novel and "just see where it goes."  He argues that most attempts at doing this result in a mess, or that instead of doing some story planning and then writing their novel, some writers use multiple drafts as a form of story planning.

Brooks is pretty blunt (even arrogant) throughout the book.  He presents his six core competencies as the six things that will get a writer published; ignore these and end up in the slush pile.  Even writers who claim to write by the seat of their pants follow his six core competencies; they simply do it instinctively.  He uses examples from bestselling novels and blockbuster movies to illustrate what he's explaining, with The DaVinci Code forming his core example.  I'd argue that most of The DaVinci Code's success came from its controversy (a great marketing tool), but I can agree with Brooks that Dan Brown was a master of storytelling technique.

The six core competencies that Brooks says every writer needs to understand are concept, character, theme, story structure, scene execution and writing voice.  Within those competencies, he talks about other things I'd already seen discussed, such as character arc, plot points, backstory, interior vs. exterior conflict, etc.  However, Brooks pulls all these together into the bigger picture of how they work together to create a great story.  He applies screenplay techniques (First Plot Point, Second Plot Point) to novels, showing how pacing affects the reader and makes or breaks the story.

The most powerful part of the book for me was the section on structure (one of the largest sections in the book).  This was where I really started thinking about Dream of Peace and seeing some of the problems that I'll have to overcome in rewriting.  I also understood Brooks' comments about how some writers grasp these concepts instinctively; while I had a hard time deciding what the plots points in Dream of Peace were, as soon as I thought about the sequel (which was the fourth or fifth novel I wrote), I knew exactly what the plot points were.  Somewhere between writing Dream of Peace and its sequel, I got a better grasp of plot.

Story Engineering comes with several checklists to help the writer apply the six core competencies to their own writing.  I think I'll leave this book by my computer, as I'm sure I'll be flipping through it as I start work on Dream of Peace once again.  While Brooks' know-it-all attitude at times bothered me, he clearly demonstrated his own skill with words in brilliant analogies and quick twists of phrase.  His book gives me a clear idea of some areas to improve in my writing—and the tools with which to do that.

"You can write like Shakespeare in love and have the imagination of Tim Burton on crack, but if your stories aren't built on solid and accepted structure—which means, you don't get to invent your own structural paradigm—you'll be wallpapering your padded cell with rejection slips." ~Larry Brooks on story structure

This book was provided for review courtesy of Booksneeze

Road Trip with Toddlers

The May long weekend found us on the road to Alberta and back again.  We caught the 3 pm ferry off the Island on Wednesday and made it to the McDonald's PlayPlace in Kamloops by 9 pm.  I'm not usually a huge fan of McDonald's, but traveling with toddlers have made us keep our eyes out for that bright yellow M.  I can highly recommend the Kamloops PlayPlace; it was one of few that was accessible even for Lily, who has discovered a love of slides.

Somewhere in southern BC

We spent the night at the Three Valley Gap hotel.  It was a spur of the moment decision; we were trying to get as far as we could before stopping for the night, but the windy, dark road between Salmon Arm and Revelstoke was starting to feel long.  When we whizzed past Three Valley Gap, we at first didn't even think of it as a stopping place.  Then my husband said, "We're not likely to be back here at this hour of the night again, so let's stop."  We turned around and checked in for the night.  Waking up in the morning to bright sunshine, a towering mountain on either side of us, and a calm lake lapping at a narrow beach made my day.  It was too bad we were in such a hurry to keep going and didn't have time to enjoy the scenery.

Black bear by the road

In Alberta, we were able to visit with most of our family—my husband's parents, his sister and her family, my aunt and uncle, my mom, my brothers, my grandparents, my uncle and his girlfriend.  Sunshine adores her grandpa and had fun feeding the cows and the dog with him.  Even Lily figured out that giving Grandpa a hug was a ticket to going outside, and my usually clingy mommy's-girl disappeared out the door without even a glance back at me.

Driving back on Sunday and Monday, we took Highway 3 across the southern part of Alberta and BC.  I enjoyed seeing how the scenery changed as we traveled, from the rolling ranchland of Longview to the gnarly mountains around Crowsnest Pass and then the fruit orchards around Osoyoos and the thick evergreens of Manning Park.  That highway is one of the twistiest roads I've ever driven, and I can see why friends strongly recommended avoiding it in the winter, but it would have been fun to have more time to tour some of the little towns, tourists spots, and hiking trails along the way.

Lily hiding in her blanket

My husband did most of the driving, while I passed the girls snacks, read books, changed CDs for them, and tried to keep them occupied during the long hours.  We tried to get Sunshine involved in the scenery, pointing out cows or black bears (we saw three in the space of half an hour going through Manning Park) or waterfalls.  Lily was good at sleeping, putting her blanket over her head whenever she got tired.  While there were moments when they were both completely done with their carseats, usually a quick stop to go potty and run around a park or playplace for a few minutes was enough to give them a break before we hopped back into the Jeep.

Buggy Fun for Summer by Sharen Pearson

Much to the dismay of their mothers, toddlers hold a relentless fascination for bugs. They follow, squish, catch and even eat them! Perhaps the novelty lies in the never-ending variety of creepy crawlers or that bugs are smaller than these little ones. Here are some simple buggy activities that will enchant your children this summer.

Bug Catcher

Save the net from your fresh produce. Lace a chenille wire around the top to support the sides. The net makes a tiny bug catcher for your child. Always help identify any bugs that might be dangerous. Catch, observe and release.

Butterfly or Dragonfly

Attach colored tissue paper wings to a toilet tissue or paper towel tube for wings. Slip a hair band over the tube and place on toddler’s wrist to flap and fly. For more advanced work, drop food color onto a wet coffee filter. Allow to dry and use for wings. Two filters for dragonfly and one for butterfly.

Big Bug

Fashion antennae with chenille wire and attach to your child’s head with clips. Gather a sheet of tissue paper at the center. Duct tape to the back of the shirt for butterfly wings. Fly away little butterfly!

Tot Cocoon

Give your toddler the end piece of a roll of toilet tissue. Have him gently spin to wrap the paper around and around forming a cocoon. If the paper breaks, just tuck the loose end in and begin again. Continue as your child is comfortable (most won’t let you cover the face). Count 1, 2, 3 and have your butterfly “hatch out” and fly away.

Lady Bug

Make a tiny ladybug from the cup of an egg carton. Cut the section. Paint red and add black dots. Tape twisted bits of paper on for antennae. For a counting activity: make five bugs and draw 1 spot, 2 spots etc. on the five bugs. Count the spots and the bugs.

Caterpillar

Cut a six-section length from an egg carton. Your toddler can glue cotton balls on each section for “fuzz.” Draw a face on one end of the section and add chenille or paper antennae. Punch a hole in the front and tie a string on to “walk your bug.” For more advanced work, paint each section of the caterpillar yellow or even a rainbow.

Bug Collage

Draw (or print from a website) several bugs on paper. Make a simple paste of flour and water. Your tot can glue on dry rice, macaroni, bits of colored paper and/or cake sprinkles to decorate the bugs.

Bugs in a Tub

Pour 6 cups of dry rice into a large flat container. Add toy plastic bugs (or your ladybugs), measuring cups, recycled plastic containers, paper tubes and play as in a sand box. To protect the floor and give your activity a boundary, place the tub in the center of a sheet or shower curtain. Your child will play for hours.

Sharen Pearson’s Goof & Giggle classes and materials continue to provide a quality Mom/Tot interaction. Widely popular, Goof & Giggle’s child-focused play plans are offered in various Arizona communities. She’s also created a variety of Goof Juice DVDs and filmed episodes of Baby D.I.Y. and written workbooks for BabyFirstTV. Arizona Midday (NBC) tapes monthly segments with Sharen to provide their audience with a variety of original and creative “easy to do” activities for babies and preschoolers. Sharen’s creativity reaches a combined audience over 200 million viewers worldwide. Goof & Giggle classes and products encourage green living, repurposing materials from around the house into affordable objects for play and learning.

This article content is provided free of charge by the author through Kathy Carlton Willis Communications. You are welcome to place this article on your site or in your publication as long as 1) it’s used in its entirety, 2) the full bio is used, 3) you previously request permission through KCWC. All other standard copyrights apply.

The Excitement in the Story

Growing up without a TV, I can clearly remember the movies I watched in my childhood.  We saw Sound of Music when visiting my godparents in February for a belated Christmas when I was five or six.  My Pioneer Girls teacher showed us Little Women.  The first movie I saw in the theatre was Lion King when I was ten; we all went as a family.  Later that same year, my mom took me to see the new Little Women in the theatre. 

At a friend's birthday slumber party when I was fifteen or sixteen (one of the only slumber parties I ever attended), we watched Tarzan.  From the first scenes of the movie, I was hooked.  I cheered.  I laughed.  I probably even cried.  And the other girls at the slumber party laughed at me for my naive reactions to a movie they had all seen before.

This week, I rented Tarzan and we watched it again.  I found myself smiling broadly when Jane tells Tarzan, "Put me down!" and then immediately screams, "Pick me up!"  I laughed when Tantor gave Turk what-for and charged to rescue Tarzan.  And I found myself not caring, this time, what my reactions were to the movie.  It's still a good story (maybe even better than the book) with good music.

As I thought about my reactions to this movie, I realized that this is what writers want.  We want our readers to react to the stories that we pen.  We want to make them laugh and cry, groan and cheer, shout and chew their fingernails.  If they don't, then we've failed as writers to move our readers.

Larry Brooks says in Story Engineering, "Empathy is the great empowerer of stories—the more empathy the reader feels, the more he will invest himself in the reading experience.  And when that happens, the story can't help but be successful.  It's precisely how some stories with seemingly unspectacular plots end up being legendary success stories" (Writer's Digest Books, 2011—review coming soon!).

So the next time I find myself cheering or crying over a movie, I won't hide it.  I'll just try to figure out how the writer made me react that way so that I can do that with my own stories.

Working on a Dream

On Friday night, my husband and I left the girls with my cousin and rode the bus downtown.  At a small club, we joined the crowd waiting for the opening band to start.  We didn’t have to wait long before the four Ladies of the Canyon appeared on stage.  With a bass, a mandolin, several guitars, and four beautiful voices, they kept us entertained for nearly an hour before introducing Old Man Luedecke. 

While the stage had seemed tiny and crowded with four ladies on it, it now seemed huge as Luedecke, holding his banjo, sat down in the one chair in the centre of the stage and leaned into the microphone.  As his fingers danced over the banjo strings, his voice crooned out toe-tapping tunes about simple things like breakfast.  He kept asking us, “You all doing okay here?” and people responded with cheers and screams and whistles.

As I stood in the middle of a small club packed with excited people holding pints of beer and clapping along to a simple banjo player, I thought about the road that brought him here.  In one of his songs, he sings about quitting his job to pursue his dream.  The crowd went wild as he introduced that song and played it.  We all want to be able to live what we love.

My dream for many years now has been to publish a novel.  As I see other novelists or singer/songwriters realizing their dreams, I get impatient.  I was my dream now.  Yet I also know the work required to achieve that dream.  Old Man Luedecke didn’t get there on that stage without long hours of hard work, probably playing in dingy bars and empty basements, singing lyrics over and over again until he got them right.  So what am I willing to do to realize my dreams?

For years, I’ve had excuses.  In university, I said I’d write when I wasn’t studying.  During my summer jobs, I said I’d write when I got back to university.  After university, I was working, getting married, having kids.  There will always be things that will keep me from my dreams.  So maybe it’s time to stop talking and just start working. 

"You cannot outdream God.”  

~The Sacred Romance, Brent Curtis & John Eldredge

Lily's First Birthday

Last week, if I opened the door to our den, Lily would motor over there to take a look at the box sitting beside my husband's bookshelf.  We bought the box on the weekend and I put it facing the wall, but she could still see the picture on the back—a picture of a little boy playing with the Little People farm set inside the box.  She'd point to the picture and smile at me, and I'd tell her (and Sunshine) she had to wait for Sunday.  For her first birthday.

Yesterday morning, when we finished breakfast, we pulled the box out of the den.  Lily had been whining because I wouldn't take her walking.  Now she was all smiles as I put the barn on the floor beside her and pulled all the little animals out of their packaging.

It's hard to believe that a year ago today, I had just gotten home from the hospital with my new Little Person.  I remember Sunshine's excitement, my own exhaustion, how tiny Lily was—but it all seems a bit foggy.  This last year has been busy and I've enjoyed watching the girls grow and change.  While I kinda wished for a boy before Lily was born, now I'm glad she's a girl; my daughters have something I never had—a sister.

Recently, a friend of mine emailed me about Lily's upcoming birthday and asked how I felt about her birth now.  She was a huge support to me in my stress over doctors and hospitals during my pregnancy.  I'm still upset that maternity care there was what it was, and that I had to go through what I did to have a baby.  In the end, though, the hospital was great—the nursing staff and the doctor we'd never met before respected my wishes for a natural birth and helped everything to go smoothly, even when things didn't go perfectly.

On Thursday afternoon, we were waiting outside my husband's office to meet him after work.  Sunshine was marching around the flower planters and Lily, holding my fingers, did her best to follow.  A woman asked me, with a smile, how old Lily was, and when I responded, she said, "I have an eight-month-old at home and I can't wait until he can do that."  I shot back, "I can't wait until she can do it on her own!"  The other mom laughed and acknowledged, "We always want the next stage."

Sometimes, yes.  But sometimes I look at my beautiful daughters, and at all the joy that comes with a three-year-old and a one-year-old, and tell myself I am the luckiest mom around.  Happy birthday, Lily.

Creativity in the Kitchen

Growing up, I wouldn't have said the kitchen was my favourite place to be.  When I was in my early teens, my mom handed me the empty cookie tin and told me it was now my responsibility to keep it full—which I did, dutifully, until I started university.  She also had my brothers and I each cook one night a week.

Maybe it was when I moved out, and had to come up with my own menu, that I began to get more creative in the kitchen.  Making the same ol' same ol' never appealed to me.  I collected recipes from my mom and my mother-in-law and flipped through recipe books.  My mother's ease in the kitchen likely inspired me; she often adapted recipes for my brother's dietary needs and tried making everything from scratch, from bagels to pierogies and pizzas to ketchup and antipasto.

A few months ago, an East Indian cookbook at Chapters caught my eye.  My husband and I had recently gone out to an East Indian buffet that served cold food.  I hate cold food to begin with, but after taking a food safety course for Starbucks, I knew that went against every rule out there for buffets.  I've since had fun making my own naan bread and several chicken or pork dishes.

My recent explorations in the kitchen have been for friends or family with dietary restrictions.  I know several people who can't eat wheat or dairy and one of our neighbours is vegan.  When she first mentioned that, I couldn't imagine baking without eggs.  As she began sharing treats with us, I began asking for recipes, because her baking was so good.  The other day, she loaned me her favourite cookbooks.  Just browsing through the books, skimming ingredient lists, made me want to get into the kitchen and start cooking.

As I thought about it, I realized cooking is another expression of my creativity.  Often, when I'm stumped for writing ideas or getting cross-eyed from staring at the computer for too long, I'll turn it off and turn the oven on.  By the time the cookies or muffins are in the oven, I'm feeling inspired again.

Tribute to My Mom

If you frequent Facebook, you may have noticed the recent trend of changing profile pictures to reflect the current season or cause.  On Friday, many of my friends started looking older suddenly—until I realized they'd posted pictures of their moms in honour of Mother's Day.  I knew exactly which picture of my mom I would use.  It's the picture she sent me in February, taken at a way-station somewhere along the 31 km of the Canadian Birkebeiner Ski Festival.

When she first told me was going to ski the Birkie, I didn't think much of it.  I knew she went skiing on some local trails every chance she got and she's talked about doing other ski trips.  Then she told me she'd done it... and that next time she does it, she'll get herself into better shape first.  I laughed.  If there's anyone who's in "good shape," it's my mom.  She swims daily, walks lots, bikes to work when she can, skis through the winter and canoes through the summer. 

This summer, my mom is paddling the Yukon River Quest along with seven other women.  As I watched a movie she sent me about another team of women paddlers, I found myself almost crying.  I could picture my mom in a canoe on the river like those women, paddling through the rain and the dark and the exhaustion.  She'll be the one still smiling at the end of the race, the one telling the others "We can do it!" and making sure everyone is eating and drinking enough.

My mom taught me grades 1-12.  She taught me to sew, cook, and clean.  She taught me to drive our 8-passenger Chevy van.  She taught me to ski, swim, canoe, and hike.  She taught me to pray and to read my Bible every day by doing that herself.  She taught me to chase my dreams.

When I was growing up, my mom sewed all my clothes.  When I hit my late teens, I began buying my own clothes and realized that my style choices were different than my mom's.  For a while, I was scared to tell her that I didn't want her to sew my clothes anymore.  I even kept wearing some of the clothes I didn't like, because I didn't want to offend her.  Finally, though, I started moving those clothes into the Goodwill bags and told my mom why.  She was totally fine with it.  Looking back, I can see the style changes my mom has been through in her life and how she's always supported my choices and ideas.  I should've known that this wouldn't be an issue either.

One of my favourite memories with my mom is hiking the North Boundary Trail with her just before I started university.  It's a 10-day trek from Jasper to Mount Robson.  My mom met my dad while hiking that trail and I'd grown up hearing stories about it.  Ten days in the mountains was a dream come true, and as university and summer jobs loomed before me, I figured I'd better grab my last chance to do it.  We had near-perfect weather for our trip and had so much fun together, doing something we both loved.  It was a special time to draw close before I got busy with everything that the next four years would bring.

For years, I tried to plan something special for Mom for Mother's Day—a big party or a fancy dinner or a nice gift from my brother's and I.  This year, as distance separates us, I just sent her a package in the mail and called her on Sunday.  It's true that since I've become a mother, I've appreciated her even more.  I'm proud to be my mother's daughter.

Book Review: The Order of Good Cheer

In the middle of last semester, I told my husband what I wanted for Christmas: a Bill Gaston book.  Gaston is the head of the writing department here at UVic and also wrote a short story that I read and enjoyed in one of my classes.  My husband not-so-subtly smuggled the book from here to Alberta in a cracker box (even tried to get me to wrap it for him) and on Christmas morning I unwrapped The Order of Good Cheer.

I've been working on reading it ever since, taking a break for other books that appeared on my review list, and finally finished it this week.  Part of the problem was that this book was so good I wanted to read it slowly, savoring every sentence.  With a few well-chosen words, Gaston captured the voice of men from New France in the 1600s (or seemed to).  The novel was deeply introspective, full of ideas and information from that era and from the knowledge-loving main character in the other part of the book.

The book opens in New France in June 1606.  Samuel de Champlain and his fellow Frenchmen have arrived at l'Habitation, their home for the next winter as they attempt to establish a French settlement in this strange land.  Champlain is the veteran of a previous attempt to do this at Port Royal—an attempt that ended in disaster when most of the men died of scurvy.  The men are busy with planting gardens and building a fort, but as winter sets in, fear of the scurvy grows.

Andy Winslow is a resident of present-day Prince Rupert, BC, a town which bears remarkable similarities to l'Habitation.  Winter has set in, and along with it, boredom, as people struggle to live in a town whose economy is failing.  Andy works at the grain terminal where, between filling ships with grain, he reads books.  He is the expert on every topic, but he's really just waiting for Laura to return.  Twenty years ago, she left him to follow her dancing career in Toronto, got married and had a daughter there; now, she's coming back.

The stories come together in Andy's reading about the Order of Good Cheer.  In attempt to raise the spirits of his men (and introduce some variety to their menu), Champlain establishes the Order of Good Cheer.  Every night is a feast, hosted by a different member of l'Habitation, with the best foods of both France and New France offered along with songs, verses, and other entertainment.  Andy hosts a New Year's Party following the traditions of the Order of Good Cheer, complete with pine-needle-smoked mussels and a moose nose.

One thing I found interesting about this book was Gaston's portrayal of religion in l'Habitation.  There was both a Huguenot and a Catholic priest at Port Royal, until they succumbed to scurvy on the same day.  At l'Habitation there is only a Catholic priest, who wins no respect from Champlain and also dies of scurvy.  Gaston paints Champlain as agnostic at best, but my research on the Canadian Martyrs presents Champlain as deeply religious, a man who requested repeatedly that priests come to New France.

The Order of Good Cheer is a compelling, thought-provoking look at two vastly different parts of Canada. Now I'd like to visit both l'Habitation (or what's left of it) and Prince Rupert, though I still have no desire to try eating moose nose.  Gaston has great skills with words, painting pictures of places and people that stay in your mind long after you've put the book down.  Maybe there will be more Gaston books under my Christmas tree next year.  :)

Sunshine's First Babysitter

The other night I babysat for a neighbour.  I couldn't get the wireless Internet on my laptop working, so I started reading through some old writing files.  I found this piece, written after we got a babysitter for Sunshine for the very first time when we lived in northern Alberta, and found it rather ironic that I was reading this while babysitting for someone else.  Sunshine was about the age here that Lily is now.

I hastily scribbled the list: our cell phone number, home phone number and address in case of emergency, two neighbours’ numbers (someone close by if the babysitter needed help), the place we were going to be.  I stuck that to the fridge, made sure there were snacks set out for the babysitter, and went to find pajamas for Sunshine.  She was crawling down the hallway while my husband organized his stack of school papers in the living room before we went out for the evening.

It was the first time we’d gotten a babysitter—other than our parents—to watch Sunshine for an evening.  And while she often played with this babysitter at church, I was a little bit nervous about making sure that anything the babysitter or Sunshine might need for the evening was available.  I babysat for most of my teen years, and now as I folded Sunshine’s blanket by her crib and made sure the soother was in an obvious spot, I wondered if the parents I babysat for had been this nervous about leaving their kids with me.  I certainly hadn’t been that nervous about watching the kids!

The doorbell rang a few minutes early, as I was giving my hair a spritz of hairspray, and I dashed to the door to welcome the babysitter.  We showed her around, but it was Sunshine herself who crawled to her toys and began playing, pushing the lid off her blocks and dumping them out.  The babysitter settled beside her, smiling at us as we put our boots and coats on and tried to remember anything else she should tell her.  And then we were out the door and in the Jeep, wondering if Sunshine had howled when we disappeared.

For the next four hours my husband and I were baby-free, and we danced and visited and mentioned once or twice that we had a one-year-old at home.  I checked my cell phone occasionally, making sure there were no missed calls.  I worried that between the dancing and the music, I’d never feel the phone vibrating in my pocket.  At 9 pm I thought about calling home, just to make sure that Sunshine had gone to bed okay—but if I did call, it might wake her up, so I didn’t call, trusting that no news was good news.

When the dance wrapped up at 11 pm, my husband and I said goodbyes and got into the Jeep.  We were still excited from the music and crowds.  And we had a babysitter at home.  What could we do now?  In a small town, it turned out, not much.  We checked the karaoke at one bar, decided it was too loud and crowded, and walked home again.  We found the babysitter watching a movie with Sunshine, who had (as usual) woken up just past 11:00. 

I fed her and then she snuggled with me, not falling asleep, just needing to know that I was there and not leaving her again.  And somehow, as I held her close, breathing in the scent of her fine hair and watching her eyelashes brush her cheeks and then flash up again, that was good.

May Write Mama

Welcome to the May 2, 2011 edition of the Write Mama blog carnival.  Summer weather has arrived here in Victoria, BC, so we're spending a lot of time outdoors and away from the computer.  If you're still stuck in winter (or surviving rainy days), I hope these blogs from other writer moms help make your day.

  

Writing

Christine Wolf presents What Really Happens at a Writers Conference? posted at Christine Wolf's Blog.
 

Moms and Writers

Christine Wolf presents My kids are writers, too. posted at Christine Wolf's Blog.

Laurakuhn presents I'm Desperate. Don't You Want Me? posted at Window Seats.

Theresa Burley-Hughes presents Death of the Family? posted at A Mountain Momma, saying, "Writing about my parent's divorce, talk to kids about divorce."


Char presents 5 Love Languages! posted at The Epic Adventures of a Modern Mom...20,000 Leagues under the Laundry, saying, "To write, one must first delve deep within themselves.  This post is an exploration of me taking a step to understand my young family better and ultimately myself!"
 

Mothering

Christine Wolf presents How a 12-Year-Old Shags an iPad posted at Christine Wolf's Blog.

elissa peterson presents You know you're a good mom when posted at don't let life pass you by, saying, "my 8 year old son recently gave me a performance review. Check out the humorous story of how I scored in the 90th percentile, and why my daughters weren't amused."

Kerry McCullough presents Emergency Room: Round 2 posted at Nesting with Niall, saying, "My account of surviving our second time to the emergency room in one month—for a boy who is not even 17 months yet!"

Lisa Healy presents 5 things I wish I knew from the start posted at Mama.ie, saying, "A few of the things I wish I knew about being a mother before I became a mother!"

Liss presents The G-Files - the day we had our kid's vision checked... posted at Frills in the Hills, saying, "Why it's important to have your child's sight checked and how I became broke, was tricked and amused the day I took my three daughters to get their eyesight checked!"

That concludes this edition.  Submit your blog article to the next edition of Write Mama using our carnival submission form. Past posts can be found on our blog carnival index page.