Happy Father`s Day

Today we celebrate fathers. In this day of ex-husbands and long-distance dad, ex-dads and long-distance husbands, I am truly grateful for my amazing in-house husband and my around-the-corner father both of whom I love dearly.

My father is away at a Rotary International Convention so I phone call will have to do for him.

My husband gets to make pancakes for us all. It`s his regular Sunday thing and gives him joy to see all his family at breakfast. I was going to make him a cappuccino but he used all the milk for the pancake batter...cafe Americano it had to be.

This afternoon we will hit Montana`s and see Ocean`s Thirteen. His choice. Gifts to follow.

I hope we make him feel as appreciated as he is.

 

Warning! Teenagers make you old.

Way back when my first child was born, I was involved in a business group of people of similar circumstance. Every meeting would begin with 15-30 minutes of chatter about diaper changes, sleep times and teething issues. The oldest member of the group, the one whose babies had grown up, would sit quietly, a pitying look in his eyes. Every so often we would get "You have no idea how easy you have it now?"

We would all laugh. What could possible be worse than babies not sleeping through the night, a fever and mysterious rashes.

Well, now I have teenagers...two going on three (and I've told my youngest he is never to grow up)...I understand exactly what he what trying to say. Teenagers make you scream laugh and cry at the same time.

It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't remember my own teens so well. I wasn't exactly a wild child but there are still enough stories about that I would rather my parents not hear. Explanations I fudged a bit. Times I was out with people other than whom I said I was. Sleepovers that didn't involve sleep. But trust me, in the world of teenagers I did not stand out. And the few times my parents caught me in the grey zone, they had bigger problems to deal with.

It's that point of view that keeps throwing things off. Relating and identifying with your teenagers can only lead to sad 'Paris Hilton' situations. I am the parent now. I have to be the responsible one. I have to deal out rules and regulations...and enforce them. And when they are forgotten or broken, I am the one responsible for dishing out the consequences.

Instead of diaper changes I make sure they know how to use condoms.

Instead of worrying about them sleeping through the night, I wonder if they are in bed and what strategy to use to get them up before noon.

Instead of the pain of the first tooth, I pay for orthodontists to make them perfect and pray when they get home from rugby they still have a full set.

Exhausting work. My face has become wrinkled overnight. And I won't say how much weight I've gained.

Thank-god it will be over in 10 years. Just in time to be a grandmother.

 

Stephen King on writing

The prolific and successful Mr. King spoke at Harbourfront last Friday night. Here's what I took away.

1. No one should tell you what to read or not to read. Margaret Attwood of all people stated this. When she took the podium, you could feel a collective post-traumatic groan from the audience...It seems we were all scarred from some high school English class where one of her early works was required reading...But unexpectedly she was very entertaining. And quite clearly stated that if it had not been for Stephen King novels, her sons would never have learned to read a novel. We were momentarily stunned as a CANlit favoured author gave such praise for popular fiction.
   
2. No one should tell you what to write. Just write from inside. I've heard this so many times over the years but it's funny but I never really HEARD it until Friday night.
   
3. Pass it on. Clive Barker gave an emotional speech on how a Stephen King's review of Barker's first book gave him a sales boost that made him a success. King didn't have to do it but it turned a floundering author into one with an immediate following.
   
4. Guys get more breaks. King told of his battle with booze. How he ignored his family, wrote all day and night, played with fame etc but at the end of the day his family forgave him and now sober and successful he promises never to do it again. How many times have you heard similar stories of successful men that get away with this? Does any one know of any women? Women who have said goodbye to their families, worked on their careers boosted by booze and drugs until they almost kill themselves. Then when they choose sobriety they are welcome back into the fold to begin again. I can't think of one.
   
5. If you are going to recommend one of your books as "my favourite" always chose the one out in Hard Cover. LOL.
   

Did you win the $37 million?

Are you the lucky person that will be collecting $37 million from the lottery corporation office this week.

Over ten years ago I made the pack with myself that I would not buy lottery tickets unless the pot was over $10 Million. I was at a low point in my life. The kind where a wack of money would make everything better so I had gotten into the habit of buying lottery tickets every week. It wasn't like the $10 bucks was going to make or break my life and I rationalised that the entertainment value of "What would I buy first?" was worth it. My problem started when it became PLAN B. I stopped looking at what my real issues were and postponed actions and decisions time and time again on the possibility that this week might be the big one. So I made the rule.

I've been pretty good at avoiding that trap ever since. But the past couple of weeks I've noticed these large pots of 6-49 up for grabs and see how easy it is to slip into old habits.

It starts quite subtly. Life has been a challenge lately. The daily grind seems to be on a coarser setting. The family is going in six different directions but everyone still presumes groceries will be in the house, supper on the table and socks and underwear in the dresser. Wouldn't it be great if we could hire a housekeeper just to take care of all that? See we wouldn't need to win a lot. Just enough to get rid of the jobs no one wants to do.

Then my thoughts begin to grow. If we won we could afford to send my teenagers off on some educational third world projects, my daughter to NYU film school. Make a bigger room for my youngest son (his is 7 x 10). I could help some kids in my neighbourhood with scholarships.

See I'm not asking for a Mercedes or anything. But despite my altruistic thoughts greed does eventually roll in and I'm thinking of makeovers for myself and daughter...in NYC. And we could buy that gorgeous piece of property we saw outside of Picton. Build a nice little hide-a-way for Tam and I where the kids could visit and ride out in the bush. It would be off the power grid and environmental neutral of course.

And start a charitable foundation with the rest. Start booster math programs for kids falling behind. Help refugees start again in Canada. Help build schools in Afghanistan. Feed and treat the malnourished in Africa. We would be great human beings.

But alas our numbers did not come up. We didn't even win a free ticket. And I look back at the disaster of the last couple of weeks and see how I've let so much slide again. I've been in my own little imaginary world.

As I sort through my pile of Mountwashmore, wondering if anyone missed me, I vow not to buy any more lottery tickets unless the lottery is over $20 million. Give me some breathing space. Get back on track.

Then my buddy calls. The lottery's $40 million. [sigh] I might be adrift for a while yet.

Seven Steps

Some days I get so stressed out with everything I have to do. But even among those, days like the past couple, I find myself in so deep they are in a league of there own... and it usually involves a writing deadline.

I’ve been through them before. But now I am a mature adult, mother of four, business woman and black belt, it surprises how I solve this situation.

Step One-Check my email. Somewhere, someone needs my advice and that’s easier than dealing with the problems at hand.

Step Two-Watch a movie. Hey, I little escapism never hit anyone. And part of the stress is the pile of DVD’s I’ve rented from Zip.ca that I’m wasting my money on.

Step Three-Declutter my desk because lord knows I can’t possible address any problems when there are report cards to file and post-it notes to rearrange.

Step Four-Start a new book club, movie club, writing club etc for the positive affirmations of my organizational skills.

Step Five-Decide today it the day I will teach one of my children some new skill I have thus far in their young lives neglected to impart.

Step Six-Since I have by now ruled out any hormonal issues, it must be a writing issue. My story is not working and therefore I need to START AGAIN. After eight hours this is usually followed by frustration so great, I toss my papers in the air and declare defeat. I was once a happy person before I started this journey and once I give up my delusions of writing grandeur I could be happy once again. Which then of course triggers the most brilliant idea to solve the story’s problem. I’m left exhausted on the couch in that ironic state of pleasure/pain...joy that my story works but I know full well the worst is yet to come.

Step Seven-Having solved the problems of the story but still unable to continue I decide it must be my computer. This can be often be simply solved with a change of wallpaper but the last time I had this problem I had to buy cool new software. Unfortunately this time I think it’s the laptop itself. It’s too big and bulky. The karma is all off. It’s perfect for the office but not for the bike rides to the coffee shop or library. I believe I could buy a cheap tiny thing for the money in my change jar. But of course my budget goes out the door the minute I step into Staples.But now I do have a shiny new laptop booting up that I promise will only be used for creative purposes.

Is there a step eight? God I hope not. This whole stupid week is all about self-esteem.I know I can write. Okay. I do take on the big themes twist them and they are a $#%challenge to pull apart. But what I am mostly fearful of is that I will make a mistake...which is totally unfair to me...and actually kind of arrogant. Everyone does. I will. Many times.

I just need to give myself permission to get it right on the fifth draft. Or Fiftieth.

It's a Conspiracy

It feels like there’s a conspiracy against me and my writing today. It’s not even 9:30 and I feel like I’m working against a stacked deck.

It’s Monday so I can’t blame the lack of groceries, tired kids. But what’s with the rain.

And each kid needed a lift but of course they go to four schools… at four separate times.

My last stop is near one of my favorite coffee stops…which would have been great if I’d put my writing stuff in the car.

A quick detour to pick them up…then I realize I’ve changed purses and forgot my reading glasses.

My special table…the only one where all my karma is in balance :))… is taken.

They don’t have my dark roast. [sigh]

Still, I am trying to work through this.

Highland farms better have my chicken soup today.

Blank Blogs

I’ve been trying to jump start a blog for the past hour and all I could come up with was a recap of my weekend visit to Prince Edward County. BTW, I stayed at the Inn at the Huff Estates. http://huffestates.ca

All weekend long I could feel the stress of not blogging for almost a week. I thought for sure I could come up with something interesting. And interesting ideas did come to me but alas without a computer, pen or my reading glasses…and it was a weekend spent away alone with my husband, I didn’t feel I could divert any time to writing.

Now I am tired and stressed out about the week ahead. Somehow I have to get my script together for next Monday. I also have a TRW meeting to get my act together for. Plus groceries, work etc. Too much to do as usual.

So I am going to have to come to terms with every blog will not be brilliant. Nor will I have the time to get the great ones down. It’s not like I have a following yet. J

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe next week.