Um...

I'm under deadline on revisions. Today. I'm still polishing transitions and layering. I've been working, I swear -- I even have photos of me at the computer at five 'til midnight on New Year's Eve (just too swamped to upload them here right now...later, I promise).

Today is Monster #1's b-day. He's FOURTEEN. How can my baby be fourteen?!

Trying to finish revisions before the tree guy comes. Last time, I had to go rescue him three times because the motor kept cutting out on his truck and he couldn't get down from up in the air. Hopefully today, he won't need rescuing.

Tree-guy-not-damsel-in-distress. Now there's a new trope for you.

Hope you're having a good day!

Where to Find Me Today

1) At my computer, revising madly.

2) In the laundry room, washing mounds of clothes

3) At Greta's blog (go comment -- you could win a book): http://idonotwanttowaitiwantthebooknow.wordpress.com/

4) At the Samhain blog: http://www.samhainpublishing.com/blog

Happy birthday to my brother Lionel!

The Hard Stuff

Remember Mork and Mindy, how when they finally had a child, he was in his fifties or so? I think the idea was he would actually get younger as he got older.

Let me explain why it doesn't really work that way: because as difficult as taking care of a baby or toddler can be, as sleep-deprived or patience-tested you get, it's nothing to the challenges involved in the tween and teen years.

Monster #1 has been on a teen tear this week, which I'm not going to share here. But I will tell you about Monster #2's heartbreak.

Both Monsters are involved in 4-H, and this year was #2's first foray into DPA (District Project Achievement). At the county level, he won first place in his area, which meant he got to present his project and compete at the district level, which was today. He's worked incredibly hard to prepare and was very excited about competing. His visual aids were good, his speech was good, he was prepared, his confidence was up. He did well in competition.

His competitors did well also. I told the DH as we were leaving for lunch, before the awards ceremony, that I wasn't sure if he'd place. We'd talked to him about it over the past few days, and I thought we were good.

Well . . .

He didn't place, and we weren't good. The kids were seated on the gym floor and the adults were in the stands. Once it hit him that he didn't place, my baby, my heart, was sitting with his head bowed and even from a distance, I could tell he was crying quietly.

In my writing career, I've been rejected more times than I really want to count (it's over a hundred, okay?). I've had harsh rejections and harsher reviews. In my teaching career, I've had parents bash me, students make some really harsh comments about my teaching while I was teaching, and suffered through one really wickedly bad job interview. I can handle getting knocked down. I simply get back up.

Watching my Monster struggle with getting knocked down when he'd worked hard, tried his best and (in his head) failed? I'd take a hundred more rejections to spare him that. At the same time, while I was watching him (and tearing up as well because I couldn't do anything to comfort him), I knew what I was seeing was one of those darned hated-yet-valuable life lessons: sometimes we try our best and don't make the cut. Then we have a choice: keep trying or give up. Monster #2's already making plans for next year, so he just might be his mama's son. I realize, too, that this is the first of several knock-downs I'll have to watch him experience as he grows older. I'm glad to see he can pick himself up and dust himself off and get back in the game*.

One bright spot: After I wiped my own eyes, I looked down to find Monster #1, who was serving his first day as a teen leader with our county 4-H group, kneeling beside his brother, arm around his shoulder and offering support and comfort. So even the sometimes-so-moody-I-want-to-kill-him Monster has potential.

I think I'll keep them, even if we are embarking on some of the really hard stuff.

Look!

I'm desperately trying to get packed for Monster #2's three-day field trip. Yes, I'm going. Don't know what I was thinking . . .

Today is the parental units' 46th wedding anniversary.

And . . .

Red Rock Pass #1 Keith Winston is tired of fighting. The war between werewolves and wizards rages on in Europe, but he's come home to Red Rock, Montana in hopes of finding a bit of peace. Instead he finds more strife as he struggles against the pack's dictates that he resume his place as the alpha's right hand man. When he rescues a new wolf on the run, he knows his instant attraction to her could cause trouble. What he doesn't expect is to find himself embroiled in another battle that goes against all his instincts--and his heart. Abigail Adler learned about the existence of werewolves only when she became one. With her life threatened by a corrupt alpha, she flees to the only sanctuary she knows: Red Rock. While she's grateful for the pack's protection, she chafes under its unbreakable rules of conduct--except when it comes to submitting to the passion Keith stirs in her. Then her tormentor kidnaps her sister in an attempt to lure her out of hiding. To save her, Abby and Keith must be willing to do the very thing that could get them all killed--break all of the rules.

Read an Excerpt Online for Free

You Tell Me . . .

Scenes from Renovation -- the DH nailing new panels into the kitchen. My poor house!

Okay, this is the pic that got me into major trouble. See, on the other side of the wall where the DH is nailing? Yeah. That's where the electrical box is. He hit the nail, I snapped the pic, the flash went off, the DH screamed (I was going to write "yelled," but really he screamed like a girl.).

Obviously, my camera flash mimics the electrical flash of someone nailing into an electrical box . . .

I keep trying to convince the man that with enough time and perspective, this will be our favorite too-funny-for-words renovation story. He doesn't agree, as he's the one who believed he'd just been electrocuted since his wife lacks common sense and foresight from time to time.

Just a hint for the future -- if someone's nailing around your electrical box, don't take their picture.

So you tell me -- funny? Or not funny?

Kids. I Don't Get 'Em.

I have two, affectionately known as Monster #1 and Monster #2.

Monster #2 loves this cartoon:



I, however, do not understand the appeal of said cartoon.

Does anyone else get it?


It has to be the most annoying cartoon EVER. And we've seen some pretty annoying cartoons around this place, let me tell you!

Monster #1? Has started playing tennis. Loves tennis. Talks it, reads it, is teaching me to play.

Watched him play his first tournament today. Oh. My. God. It's a good thing tennis is a quiet sport and I was far, far away on the balcony, hence why I wasn't in the position to yell at him to be serious on the court. Y'all, I always swore I wouldn't be one of those crazy sports parents. But when the kid is good and likes the game and could play better but is too busy being goofy on the court . . .?!

But. He's having a good time. He's being active. That's the important thing. Right?

Now . . . about that weird Chowder cat-kid-thingee . . .

Big Team, Little Me

Monster #1 ran in his first cross country meet today. I was so proud of him! He's definitely not the fastest runner on the team, but he completed the race, even though I knew it was hard on him.

I was also proud of our entire team, especially the varsity runners. When I reached the finish line area so I could watch Monster #1 come in (if you've never watched cross country before, you go to areas along the track as the run progresses so you can cheer them on), I saw groups of our older kids running the final, grueling yards with the middle school stragglers. They were encouraging them, making sure those kids would finish.

It was fabulous and gave me chills.

So kudos to our coaches and our kids, who have given new life to the "Big Team, Little Me" motto.

Ch-ch-changes

Last week, Elisabeth blogged at Romance Worth Killing For about her youngest's transition into a "real" bed and her struggles with that.

I can relate. This year, Monster #1 started middle school. You wouldn't think there'd be a huge change there -- it's a small school with all grade levels on one campus -- so basically the kids move from one set of classrooms to the next as they shift from elementary to middle school to high school.

But it's different. Boy, is it different.

There's a lot more homework. We've had some ten o'clock nights (and even one eleven o'clock night). The flip side of that is that Monster #1 seems more motivated and organized, more responsible. He's always been a good student, but I also knew he was a little lazy on a lot of levels -- school was easy. He could coast. With our middle school faculty? Not so much.

There's also been a shift in our homelife with this transition. I'll be the first to admit our scheduling tended to revolve around my schedule: school events, teaching, writing/editing, etc. But with Monster #1 involved in extracurriculars now (he does two. He wants to add a third, but I'm not so sure about that yet), we're having to adjust our routines to accommodate that.

Finally, the biggest change is probably that I'm learning to let him go, a little bit at a time. He doesn't need my help quite as much anymore, although I'm aware he still needs me. Through this transition, I'm seeing glimpses of what the shift to high school and later to college and independence will be like. It's a little scary. It's a little exciting.

But I don't think I'd change a thing.

Where I Wish I Was . . .

But, I'm at school. And I seriously doubt I'll get a summer getaway.

Only three more days. I've given my only exam today (everything else I teach is an end-of-course-test class, so it's just a matter of waiting for test scores to show up. Today's exam is graded and imported, so I just need test scores . . .

I'm chatting tonight over at Loves Romance and More. Would love to have you come and join me!

I had a neat conversation with Monster #1 on the way to town yesterday afternoon (I'm finding he opens up more when Monster #2, a.k.a. The Mouth, is not around.). He's been studying global warming in science and is all into ways to reduce it. So he's decided his summer reads will revolve around alternative forms of energy.

While reading to Monster #2 last night (we read s-c-a-r-y books, as he puts it), I asked what he was going to read about this summer. "The Civil War." You know, I'm a fiction kind of girl. How did I produce kids who are definitely in the nonfiction camp? Not that I'm complaining -- I was pleasantly surprised at their science and social studies standardized test scores.

I'm making my summer reading list. It's getting long, too. I can't wait!

Chortling With Glee

I'm plotting.

No, not that kind of plotting.

Evil, getting-even-with-someone kind of plotting.

See, my DH is about to start working on a degree. An all-online degree. This means he'll be on his computer quite often.

Now I can be the one who says, "Are you on that computer again?"

Or even better, come in and distract him while he's trying to work.

Who say's payback is a witch with a capital B? Nah. Payback is sweet, baby!

It's a Good Thing . . .

I love my dog because she is B-A-D bad.

Her newest trick?

When no one will play ball with her, she runs out to my new flower bed, digs, prances through it and generally just acts like an evil idiot until someone comes out to give her attention.

Why do I think she's smarter than I am? Sigh.

Welcome to the Real World

Today was crazy. The kids were wound up. All. Day. Long.

I ran errands after school, took the Monsters to MickeyD's for supper. Came home, ready to work on my TTD list -- school, author, home.

Monster #2 threw a kink in the works.

Have I mentioned yet that parenting is flippin' hard?

You think it's difficult when they're babies and you have to get up every two hours at night. You really think the terrible two's are hard.

Hard, though, I've discovered, is your kids growing up. They develop different problems -- school, friends, etc., and you can't fix everything for them. You can't always kiss it and make it better. When you offer advice, they're not always going to take it or even be open to it.

Hard is knowing those problems will probably get bigger as they get older.

Hard is figuring out how to let them go at the right time.

All right, all of you who have been at this parenthood thing longer than I have . . . advice?

***
Edited to add:

I have positives today, though:

Dana's support. :-)
Monster #1's smile when he opened his birthday card from his aunt
Having Michele in my classroom. She's going to be an awesome teacher.
Only 27 more days until payday . . .

Electronic Babysitter

I'm a baaaad mom.

Since Christmas Eve, my Monsters have been immersed in an imaginary world, one controlled by a little square called a GameCube. They've played for hours.

And I've let them.

Normally, I limit television time, make sure they're outside, with their bikes and the dog and the sports equipment.

But I really need to finish this book, it's cold outside, and it's kind of like letting them eat too much on Halloween . . . I don't do it every day.

So, it's like we're on a virtual vacation, don't you think?

Quick Update

The Monsters have new toys to play with. One would think this would make the whole writing thing easier, because the kids are playing, right?

Uh, yeah.

With Roboraptor, who roars and attacks.

With Scannerz, so the Monsters are taking the house apart looking for UPC codes to scan.

With the GameCube (a gift from my brother), so they fuss over what to play, how to play, etc.

But I am now at 46K+ and I hit my average of 2000+ words today. Rough draft words, definitely. I have lots of layering to do.

However, I'm excited about the manuscript and about writing again, so I'm happy.

The Morning Of . . .

Gifts are opened.

Kids are happy.

Breakfast is eaten.

I'm already picking up the clutter because it makes me crazy.

Roboraptor is roaming the house. That thing is weird. Kitty Baby is hiding from it. Although I'm thinking I could get used to the whole virtual pet thing . . . very little upkeep.

It's very rainy and gloomy outside . . . perfect for hanging out at home. I may work a little on chapter nine (since I can't get near the living room because the Monsters are in there with the Gamecube their uncle gave them).

All in all, it's a Merry Christmas around the Winfree household.

Happy Holidays to you, too.

One More Day . . .

Scarfed this from Steph:

You Should Spend the Holidays In

India - where your Christmas tree might be a banana or mango tree

What Country Should You Spend the Holidays In?

Can you say, huh? :-D

This is more me:

You Have A Type A- Personality

You are one of the most balanced people around Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you. When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back Whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love! You live life to the fullest - encorporating the best of both worlds

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

Anyway . . . off to Mama's for Christmas Eve dinner. The Monster's have been up since, oh, six, I think. Monster #2 is way excited.

I'm finally hitting the zone, I think. My word count for the past couple days is only around 2500 words, but I have the rest of chapter eight outlined, the beginning of chapter nine laid out and I can totally see my movie and where it's going now.

Really wishing I could have another week of Christmas break . . .

Two More Days! (Thank God)

Don't tell Larissa, but I'm beginning to understand Steph's outlook on Christmas. I'm tired, people!

My shopping is finished. All the presents are wrapped and under the tree. I don't have to cook for Christmas this year, because that's my mom's gift to us.

But Monster #2, you know, Mr. "Makes the Energizer Bunny on Crack Look Sluggish"? He's bouncing off the walls. I don't think he stopped talking yesterday. I mean, at all. Not even to take a long breath.

Plus, the DH is home. This is good. I love the guy. However. He has this thing about watching movies over and over and over again. Normally, I can tolerate this. Sure, I know all the dialogue to The Mummy and Sweet Home Alabama by heart. I don't understand the desire to watch a movie repeatedly until you want to scream, but I can live with it.

But.

Couple that trait with an overdose of Christmas spirit. The man loves Christmas movies. Any Christmas movie. If it has Santa or elves or reindeer, he's there.

ABC Family is making him a very happy camper, because they're doing the 25 Days of Christmas. So I've been treated to every sappy, feel-good Christmas movie ever made . . .

Ad nauseum.

But he's happy. The kids are happy.

And that makes me happy.

Come Tuesday, I can make him overdose on Court TV again.

Happy Holidays, y'all.

A Snippet of Typical Winfree Conversation

10:00 A.M., Monsters playing outside, DH (who for some odd reason thinks the sun rises and sets in me) and I sitting on couch, still in pajamas, sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper. I'm running through the Christmas list, what I've bought, what still needs to be purchased.

DH: I still have to get your gift this week.

Me: I really wish you wouldn't spend anything on me. January is always a tight month, you know that. Just tuck the money back, just in case you need it.

DH: We'll see.

Me: Rick, I'm serious. I really don't need anything and I'd rather the money went into budget.

Silence, as I sigh and realize what I'm saying is probably going in one ear and out the other.

A couple of minutes later, I show him a jewelry armoire in the Target salespaper.

Me: I think when we finish the house, I want something like this for the bedroom to hold my stuff.

DH: You know you're probably getting jewelry for Christmas, right?

Sigh. Maybe I should just give up?