MamaBlogga

In case you missed it, I’m a writer. (Shameless plug: I can now say “my book is coming out next year”!) So I was instantly drawn to a guest post by a fellow forthcoming-in-2013 author on the Power of Moms yesterday. I was so drawn to it, in fact, that I tracked down the author’s blog and discovered that we’ll be sharing a publisher (awesome!).

But even more awesome was her essay. I have been thinking about this very topic a lot. As a writer, I spend a lot of time thinking about imaginary people with imaginary problems who live their imaginary lives all in my head. Yes, it does get crowded. So crowded that I spend a good deal of time thinking about what I need to do for this story, how I’ll plot out that story, how I’ll edit another story—even when I have three flesh-and-blood (albeit quite small) people right here in front of me. Shouting at me. Tugging on me. They’re hard to forget, and yet somehow, sometimes, I do.

One of the things that astounded me as a new mother was how much my baby could need me. And he wasn’t one of those children who instantly quiets in the arms of his mother. (The opposite: he was pretty quiet in general, unless he was starving, and getting near his mommy at those times meant he was going to eat soon, SO HURRY IT UP!!)

Somehow, this little lump of a human, less expressive than our house cat, needed me all the time. For eating ever 90 minutes, yes, but somehow even then, I felt the emotional draw of his utter dependence.

My children aren’t quite so dependent on me these days—they’ve discovered the refrigerator—but still, the one thing they need the most from me isn’t games or toys or food or stimulation. What they need most from me . . . is me.

So one of the things I’m going to try to focus on this year is being more mindful of the present. We spend so much of our lives filtering our existence. I want to look up from my camera and my computer and into the eyes of my children. I might even get off the couch.

And hopefully, I’ll be able to come to the same conclusion as Jenny has:

Often days, even weeks, go by without writing a single word. Days that are full of not just the routine maintenance and care of a home and family, but with homework helping, piano teaching, baby building, book reading, game playing, story listening and many other rich and rewarding things that I’m simply not willing to give up. I will not give them up because I want to be present in my children’s lives; and because I know that in the grand scheme of things, my children, not the number of books I’ve published, will be my greatest prize.

This raising of a family is God’s work. I know this. I feel it in my heart, in my bones, and even in the very words that I write. I do not think it coincidental that those moments that have brought me closest to God are moments I’ve experienced as a mother. Writing is rewarding in its own right, but mothering? Mothering is sanctifying.

Amen.

How do you focus on the present? (Or how do you dream and wish your life away?)

Hayden isn’t just reading—he’s writing, too. He was rambling about putting a period at the end of a sentence, and I stopped him long enough to understand that he knows what a period is.

Then I found this in his backpack: illustrated and written by Hayden himself.

It says “I ate spagetti.” AKA “I a A.” Note the table, plate, and fork in the picture.

So I promptly sat him down at the table and had him write a sentence, using two sight words, a word from a story we’d read that afternoon, and a word he could sound out.

Then we sounded out/practiced his full name on the back and left the note for Dad on his pillow. He was pretty pleased (and surprised!) to get it.

Time is tricky in motherhood. Hours and days crawl by, while weeks and months fly. We focus on the things we’re looking forward to—kindergarten, babysitting age, the last one to kindergarten—so much that it’s sometimes hard to appreciate the now. We start to get dissatisfied with our lives now until we aches.

And sometimes, that’s not a bad thing. I came across an article called “The tension of the already, but the not yet” that points out that this longing is good when it prompts us for growth:

Maybe this tension is a perfect place? Not because we love being there, but because it’s the beginning of the end of our striving? Maybe this is when we realize that it’s not about us? That ultimately, we’re just part of a greater story that takes time to be written and revealed and at the point of these questions, we don’t know the full story yet.

This reminds me of something I’ve heard about writing. (Sorry, this is so generic that I’m blanking on who said this. Someone who knew what he was talking about.) An experienced writer argues that when we begin writing, we get very discouraged, and consider our writing terrible. And it probably is—and it’s a good thing.

It’s a good thing that we can see the difference between where we are now and where we want to be. We’re comparing our writing to published authors’—people in another stage of their journey, who have more experience and help than we probably do—and we naturally come up short.

But, this writer cautions, don’t let that stop you from writing. Push through this uncomfortable phase, writing and practicing more and more—learning more about and actually becoming what you want to be—until that feeling of being terrible passes. Change your circumstances, and change your attitude—and improve. That feeling keeps us working to get better.

We can’t make time go faster so we can enjoy the next phase sooner (and let’s be honest, we’ll probably still be looking forward to the next stage then), but we can channel this tension, this cognitive dissonance into looking at our lives now to see how we can enjoy them more—and what we may need to change to value and enjoy the present more now.

What do you think? How can you value and enjoy the present more now?

Photo by Joe Philipson

On Sunday, I was watching TV when I saw someone I knew addressing the BYU–H student body (alongside her father, the university president). Mindy Brown told a story of visiting her parents years and years ago. Her father was the leader of a congregation of unmarried adults 18-30 years old, and Mindy attended with her children:

I was feeling particularly disheveled and discouraged that morning. I had a demanding toddler pulling on my wrinkled dress and an infant spitting up on my shoulder. I remember feeling overweight, under-slept, and generally unattractive as I walked into that building filled with intelligent, lively, handsome young people, many of whom were about my same age but seemed to have a whole lot more going for them. As I stepped into the chapel, I distinctly recall thinking to myself, “So, this is what I’m missing.” At that very instant, a loving Heavenly Father allowed the Spirit to teach me a very important lesson through my mind’s eye, as I had a fleeting vision of every one of those students turning around and looking at me with my beautiful children and saying, “So, this is what we’re missing.”

via P.S. What is your dream? Eternal Roles and Responsibilities

Over the weekend, I attended a writers’ conference. It was fantastic, even though right now I’m kind of frustrated in my “career” because I have so very little time to devote to it. It feels like I’m missing out. (And yet I’m blogging? Yeah, brilliant.)

But after spending two days away from my family, I was really happy just to see my wonderful husband and children. As I sat with my family for dinner, it hit me very powerfully: this is worth more than all the “success” and all the time in the world. While I’ll always love writing and have my own personality and life, it’s always good to know I’m where I belong.

What do you think? When do you most appreciate the worth of family?

All right, let’s start this C-themed post off right: the winner of the Aquaphor is:

Shannon!

Congratulations!

The second part of our C-themed post is also about a contest: the first three chapters + synopsis of Façade, my current fiction manuscript, were named as a finalist in the Crested Butte Writers’ Sandy Contest, Thriller/Suspense category! Woot!

Even better, I get a chance to revise my entry with the judges’ feedback this week. Then, along with the other four finalists’, my entry will be winging its way to the final judge: Sarah Knight, senior editor at Simon & Schuster.

It’s weird just typing that.

So, I’m off to re-polish my entry!

One more big announcement: along with my mother and three sisters, I’ve started a craft blog! So, if you’re into knitting, quilting, scrapbooking, sewing, baking, home decorating or otherwise creating, please check out Wayward Girls’ Crafts! Check out our giveaways all this week!

And, to wrap up: C is for Cookie. That’s good enough for me.

Do you have any good news to share?

Photo by Jason Meredith

Birthday!

Because today is mine!

(And to be honest, this is why I wanted to do the A to Z challenge. It’s just too perfect.)

I haven’t opened my birthday presents yet, but I have a couple for you: yesterday’s Aquaphor giveaway (entry form fixed now!) and the beginning of my latest fiction WIP, Façade!

Photo by Chris in Plymouth