Traditional Mother's Day Gifts (And Why I Hate Them!)

I’m going to admit that I’m ridiculously hard to buy presents for. (I blogged about my reluctance to graciously accept technological gifts earlier in the week over at Harperteen.) But when it comes to traditional Mother’s Day gifts, I’m the worst. For one, I hate getting flowers. It’s not that I’m opposed to flowers. I love them, actually, in gardens and planters and even blooming on cacti. But I hate getting them as a gift.

As any crazy cat owner like myself might tell you, flowers are ridiculously attractive to cats. Thus, finding any spot in my house where my cats won’t jump up, eat them and/or drink the water out of the vase presents a challenge, which will consequently turn into an annoyance, as I attempt to move them/hide them from the kitties.

Then there’s the part where the flowers die, which always happens within a week of the gift (usually sooner in my case thanks to crazy flower-eating kitties). I hate having to throw them away – something that was once beautiful, now dead and ugly. And finally, there’s the thrifty part of me that thinks that spending money for something that I’m going to have to hide, that will thereafter soon die, seems like a complete waste.

I do love jewelry, but admittedly, I’m very picky, so I think I’ve scared my husband off in this category after I made him return/exchange a few prior gifts. Candy? Of course I love candy (who doesn’t?), but I hate getting it as a Mother’s Day gift. It seems like most of the years since I’ve become a mother myself, I’ve been in some stage of trying to lose baby weight, so candy just feels like sabotage.

In my defense, I’m pretty sure this is genetic, something I inherited from my own mother, who also hates getting flowers, jewelry, and candy as a gift. One year, for Mother’s Day, back when I was in middle school, we got my mother a kitten, and that was one of the only times I remember her actually loving any gift. Ever. She spent the entire day smiling and holding on to the kitty, and plus, she hadn’t been expecting it, so it was great to see her surprised. (Hint to my husband: I will gladly accept a new kitten for Mother’s Day!).

Okay, so I’m hard to shop for. But I’m also completely happy not receiving any material gifts for Mother’s Day. Because Mother’s Day, for me, is all about spending time with my husband and my kids, relaxing. And if you throw a good brunch in there, I’ll be blissfully happy!

Relax

I miss my mother. Sadly, she lost her battle with cancer just over a year ago. Mother's Day for me is jumbled with emotion. But, if there is one piece of advice Mama would give me for this Sunday, it would be to R.E.L.A.X.

In thinking about how I might achieve this break from my usual day-to-day, I turn to Mr. Webster to ask what he has to say about relaxing. He says it means "to release or bring relief from the effects of tension, anxiety, etc." Okay, sounds good to me. But what does my relief look like for Mother's Day?

I've already got a tentative plan in mind. I'll wake up as late as possible, which for me is unfortunately 8:00 a.m. (the woes of leaving my twenties behind.) I'll turn on the CBS Sunday Morning Show. Love it. Make my coffee at the commercial and then, depending on whether or not my son comes home from college, I'll make a decision on which Sunday church service to attend. Right now I'm thinking the 11:00. Maybe I'll make my bed, maybe I won't. Whichever relaxes me most is the objective.

After service I'll come home and head out to my garden. Pick up some brown magnolia leaves that have fallen all over the flower beds, dead-head, weed - do anything just to be outside. Gardening takes away my angst. It's like working a crossword puzzle or playing solitare on the computer. It's mindless and stress-less.

The point in sharing any of this is to say there's something to be said about the mundane. We all have to take time to relax whether it's Mother's Day or Wednesday or Labor Day. I don't think it's necessarily about refraining from work per say, but more about taking a break from the battles of the mind. Taking a time-out from worry, mental anguish, fear. No doubt, it's tough to do. But engaging in mindless activities from time-to-time certainly makes it possible.

This Mother's Day, I'm all about whatever mental distraction I can find . . . if only for a day.

My Day! My Day!

I know I've mentioned before that I have a big extended family. Every holiday, including Mother's Day, we were expected to troop between like six different places to visit everyone. And that was fine, because I didn't yet have a voice in the family, so I really had no choice anyway.

But now? That I'm an adult, married and have my own kid? Things are a'changin'.

There was a bit of early discussion this year about trying to "fit in" visits to everyone on Mother's Day. Which I, now that I can officially be "celebrated" that day, quickly put the kibosh on. Because there's no way my toddler son will last through brunch, a visit to someone's house and a dinner. That's two restaurants, people. His meltdown clock is about five minutes long, meaning that we only have five minutes before the shrieking and flailing.

So, for Mother's Day this year, I look forward to sleeping in. Oh God, YES! I haven't been snuggled into my comfy bed past 8am in way too long. Then, I'll get up, have a cup of coffee and watch trashy reality shows that I've DVRed--without any protest from my husband. Which means he'll be forced to watch hours of The Hills and all of Vh1's spring lineup. Woo Hoo! Maybe I'll even go get a pedicure!

But, seriously. It'll be nice to have a day when I can just relax and do whatever I choose. This weekend my husband was out of town at the Kentucky Derby. He and a bunch of his friends all went down south and partied it up, adult spring break style, for three days. I was left to wrangle my son and our very high-maintenance dog. After about twelve hours of feeding the dog, filling up sippy cups, picking up Cheerios off the ground, chasing my son when he took his diaper off, sweeping up kitty litter, etc. I realized that my entire weekend was going to be spent doing things for everyone else but myself.

And that was OK, but I'm ready for a break.

Like Tracy, I too, would like to say thanks to my mom. And apologize for being such a pain in high school! :)

My First Heroine: My Mother

Rather than talk about how we celebrate Mother's Day at my house, I'd like to, instead, share a little about my mother.

As a child, like most little girls, I imagine, I thought my mother was the most beautiful, funny, smart, creative, and impressive woman alive. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. By the time I'd reached my teenage years, a lot of these thoughts had...well, changed. I still loved my mother, but the love was hidden beneath a vat of teenage angst. We didn't get along very well most of the time, we fought often, and I swore that I would *never* be like her.

Then, a funny thing happened: I had my first child. Suddenly, my mother was the real life encyclopedia I turned to with every question I had about my infant daughter. We didn't live near each other then, but oh, did I rack up the telephone bills. In fact, she was really the only person I trusted with any questions I had regarding the role of being a mom.

I had less questions with my second child, but the connection that was formed with my mother didn't wane. Still, I can't say I considered her a friend, because I didn't. She was Mom, and I loved and trusted her, but she still seemed to be in a different world than I. She was there, always, if I needed her.

And then one day, she hesitantly told me over the phone that she had breast cancer. I remember the stark fear that hit me, but disbelief crawled in next. My mom couldn't be sick. But she was, and the fear came back, only I was mostly able to keep it bay. My mother had always been strong, and I'd always seen her as fearless. She'd win the battle of cancer. I was sure of it.

But slowly, she shared more information with me. How the form of cancer she had didn't give her the greatest odds for survival, how she was going to try what was then a new treatment, and how she'd be in a hospital far from her home for a very long time...and I heard her fear in her voice. Something I'm not sure I'd ever heard before.

I think that scared me more than anything else.

I lived in North Carolina at the time, and had two young children. I remember standing in the shower and becoming hysterical with grief. Not just that I might lose my mother, but that my children might never really have the chance to get to know her.

It was a horrifying reality. Not one any of us wants to think about, let alone have to confront. For months, I lived in this weird fugue state, doing what needed to be done, but wishing I could physically be with my mother while she fought for her life. And fight she did. As hard as it was, and she told me it was the hardest thing she'd ever done, she beat the odds and survived, and today is completely, and thankfully, cancer-free.

Years passed, and evenutally, I found my way home again to Ohio. My mother is often the first person to know many of the details of my life: both good and bad. I turn to her for advice, for support, for understanding, for everything a child should be able to look toward their mother for. She's always there with her strength, her wisdom, her experience, and her love. And, after so many years, I consider my mother one of my closest friends.

And guess what? I so want to be just like her.

So, for my mother on Mother's Day, I'd like to thank her for so many things, from the little to the big. Like that time she spent hours and hours baking and then decorating a Holly Hobby cake for my birthday, even if she did threaten to freeze it and bring it out each year to look at. For protecting me from the harsh realities of the world when she still could, for helping me deal with them when protection was no longer an option, for supporting me, for sharing her strength, and for teaching me what being a mother and a friend is really all about.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you!

To all the other moms out there, I hope you have an amazing Mother's Day!

And now, for a little fun, head on over to Dorchester Editor Leah Hultenschmidt's blog this week. She's holding a Mother's Day contest with some awesome books as the Grand Prize (A Taste of Magic is one of them!).

The Rock Star Life.

Oh yeah.

It's a glamour-fest, I tell ya!

What... you already read the previous entries from this week and sense I'm being less than truthful in that statement?? Dang. The perils of being the Friday Girl. Ah well. Okay - I admit it ain't all roses and blue M&Ms as far as the eye can see, this writing gig.

And yet... the day I'm going to tell you about is certainly writerly, awfully cool and ever-so-slightly rock star-ish. Sure - it was untypical, but I thought you guys might like to catch a glimpse of what it was like for me to hit the high school circuit at a couple of recent Writer's Festivals - the Frye Festival in New Bruswick and the Ottawa Writer's Festival.

For almost two weeks, my days consisted of two or three school events a day, reading for auditoriums full of teens, answering questions and *giggle* signing autographs. It was marvelous.

Aside from the early mornings (to which I am morally opposed just on principle!!), and the threat of losing my voice (a horrifying prospect - how would I do all that talking I always do?!) it was a terrific experience. Typically, for each presentation, I would do a 10-ish minute reading followed by a bit of chat about me, the book, what it's like to be an author and an actor, and a little insight into the publishing industry. Insofar as this was my first real "touring" experience, I was a little worried going in that that I might not have enough material to fill hour-long sessions. I mean - just a reading and a Q&A? And what if the kids get bored? What if they fidget? What if they don't ask any questions at all? *wail/gnash/flail*

I needn't have worried. Even in the presentations where there might have been a little bit of reluctance to start the ball rolling, inevitably the kids always wound up having more questions than we had time to get to them.

The audiences were uniformly filled with an abundance of kids who were smart and funny and fabulous. And the teachers - man, teachers rock. Seriously rock.

Inevitably, after each session was over, a bunch of the kids would stay behind and continue to ask questions. And ask me to sign a wide variety of items. I signed my first cast, my first shoe (a couple of those actually...), several hands and binders and - yes - even books! ;-D

I love teens. The whole experience made me so glad that I write stories for them. It was both exhausting and exhilirating. And I had a blast.

A pretty good few "days in the life". See?

Serious Author with Awesome Kidz and Teacher!

Silly Rock Star Author with Awesome Kidz and Teacher (and rabbit ears!)

~ Thanks to the marvelous Miz Arsenault at JMA for the pics!! ~

Life and Writing

A really cynical writing professor of mine once told me that writing was an incredibly hard profession because life is always getting in the way, and it’s impossible to write when you have to deal with life.

Okay, in a way that’s true. My life is this: stay-at-home mom to two little boys, wife, part-time writing professor, errand-runner, dinner-preparer, launderer, well, you get the point. A day in my life is all of that – changing diapers and playing with my kids, wiping tears and runny noses, grading papers. And the writing?

While other moms I know put their kids to bed and then hang out with their husbands, watch TV, or go to bed early, I write. I have a date with my computer every weeknight between the hours of 8 and 11 and sometimes on weekends, too. I don’t always get writing done, but most nights I do. And even if I don’t write, I almost always try to get something writing-related done, even if it’s just writing a blog post. This also means, I hardly ever get enough sleep or get to clean my house, but I’ve learned to be content with my mess and savor my morning coffee, if it means that I’m able to write.

And here’s the funniest part: Since having kids, my life has been more hectic than I could ever imagine. Most days, I barely have time to breathe. But I’ve somehow managed to get more writing done than I ever did in my pre-kid life, where I had actual bona fide leisure time. Incredibly, I’ve written two novels in the last year and a half. I think after my first son was born, I realized how much writing meant to me, how much I not only wanted to, but needed to do it. And also, I thought about the fact that someday my baby was going to get older and ask me what I did for a living, and I wanted to be able to tell him that I was a writer, a real writer. This gave me something I never had in my pre-kid years, the discipline to sit down every single night and write, and to treat writing like a real job (albeit one done only after dark!)

There’s something else, too: in my crazy, busy kid-filled life, things are always happening. I meet interesting people at the park; I find myself constantly falling into embarrassing situations (Might I mention that I’ve been thrown up on, in public, twice in the past month!). And all of this becomes part of who I am and what I write about. Even The Wiggles – my youngest son’s favorite show -- made its way into my latest manuscript! Life is what gives me the details, and in my opinion, it’s the details that really make a piece of writing stand out.

So, to tell you the truth, I think I actually love the fact life “gets in the way,” of my writing, because without it I know I never would’ve found my way to writing for real.

Ain't life curvy?

Life. It brings to mind one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite people, John Lennon. “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” I’ve lived by that, whether I’ve wanted to or not, for the last twenty years. Just when I start to plan my world one way, here comes life in all its glory, pain, or more simply, its inevitable distractions. And my life is forced to curve off in another direction.

The Beatles have another song, “A Day In The Life”, the capstone on their brilliant Sgt. Pepper’s album. It is about the wealthy man who has everything and dies suddenly. The song speaks of money not producing joy. It brings to mind the importance of living with joy, no matter our financial or personal circumstances, as the gift of another day is never a guarantee.

Are you racing through life with just enough time to wolf down your apple instead of slowing down to savor its rich, tart flavor? Do we tackle our to do lists with any joy at all or are we just checking each task off simply to make it through?

Now that my kids are grown, my life does not take on the moment-by-moment insanity of yesteryear. I MISS THOSE DAYS! I had no idea at the time but the toddler years were downright innocuous compared to the stress of the teenage/young adult years.

Maureen and Tracy’s life schedules are far more interesting than mine so I won’t even try to paint my daily portrait.

I will say, though, that every day when I wake up I have the greatest intentions of fitting in my writing. YET, it’s 7:30 a.m. right now and I’m sitting on my bed, laptop battery power 17% - cord all the way upstairs. I’m trying to have this post done, as I have a huge week ahead and no spare time whatsoever! I am already late for work and there are ARCs (advance reader copies) to send out with personal notes, not to mention I have a huge formal event Friday night at work.

My youngest son graduates from high school on May 24 and we are late on everything. There’s Project Graduation to plan (the all-night lock-in at the school to keep kids sober and off the roads), transcripts to request, and college decisions to make. We still have to mail our graduation announcements, I still haven't bought "the big" graduation present, and the Tennessee Hope Scholarship has yet to be applied for. If I'm honest, I’m just racing through and checking each task off one by one, hardly enjoying any of it. Each chore seems more taxing than pleasurable.

And I'm still worried about my writing! Where does that fall in line? I am striving to one day be a full-time writer!

Writing takes a commitment - a dedicated time slot for me to produce anything. I must carve out an entire Saturday or take a full day off work to see any progress at all. Nighttime is out. By then this old girl is pooped! I can't seem to find enough hours in the day.

But I have to say, I do take the time to smell my daffodils. I do appreciate any day I wake up healthy. I do say I love you. I didn’t come by this heightened sense of smell naturally, however. I've held on tight to the handlebars while my roller coaster has chugged up the mountains and screeched back down into the valleys. I've winced from life's pain and lavished in her beauty. Life has thrown me curve balls and passed me home runs. Thankfully, wisdom has been the win from each and every hit.