Out of the Mouths of Children

That's when we all need the 

hugs and kisses the most.

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Trying to Chillax

I’m taking today off and am doing nothing…well, almost nothing.

The phone has stopped ringing; the laundry is done; the vacuuming and dusting can wait for another day.

The last two weeks have been full of ups and downs: counseling friends and confessing to friends; covering for vacations at work and dealing with unreasonable deadlines; contracting and coordinating contractors to help with home maintenance issues; trying to keep my head firmly planted in reality regarding our writing projects, etc.

Yes, it’s a great feeling to be (somewhat) successful in juggling the different facets of your life… but it is also draining.  If we don’t take time out for ourselves to rejuvenate, we’ll start to lose our balance and focus. We’ll start dropping things all over the place — which isn’t a good thing to do if you’re a master juggler…

So, I’m taking a day off and just chillaxing…

At first, I’d thought I’d go to the movies, but my legs and arms have a different plan.  They’re pulling me back to bed… for an early afternoon nap and a lazy day with the TV remote.

I won’t argue with such a luxurious and guilty pleasure.

I’ll be back juggling in the morning.  See you then.

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Hope’s Working Overtime

It’s hard not to daydream about this, but I can't help it.  It's constantly on my mind.

I’m trying my best not to get excited, because it hurts when I'm forced to wake up from the dream, but...

Another publisher found our proposal and sample passages intriguing, and would be interested in reviewing the full manuscript.

I can’t get over the word she used... “intriguing.”  

As silly as it sounds, that one word holds so much promise for me. 

Yes, Hope’s working overtime.

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Why Won’t Hope Just Leave Me Alone?

As I fall asleep each night, I’ve been listening to “positive-thinking hypnosis tapes” — to keep my spirits up.  

I’ve been preparing myself to weather more silence and rejection from this new wave of publisher queries.

Yep, I’ve been mentally preparing myself… by asking Hope to leave me alone for a while.  If I don’t expect publishers to respond back to me, then I won’t be disappointed when they don’t.

It’s ironic, isn’t it?  Night after night, I fall asleep to faceless strangers whispering to me that I make a difference and that I matter — while, during the day, I’m dealing with faceless publishers showing me that I’m invisible and have nothing to offer them — all because I want to publish books that encourage people to share themselves with others and make a difference to those around them… 

Yep… I’m just going through the motions right now, not getting my hopes up…

I thought I had it all under control… until one of the publishers had the audacity to write us a hand-written encouraging letter of hope, telling us how much she enjoyed our book and how we filled the pages with love and experience.  She wished her company could help us but the genre doesn’t fit their listing, at this time — but she hoped that we find a really good home for our book.

A publisher who is recognized as the leading publisher on autism and Asperger syndrome contacted us to let us know that she received our proposal and that she will read it, discuss it with her partners, and let us know if our children's book is right for them.  They will get back with me in about six weeks. 

In both cases, there were no promises of publication made, and yet…

These two contacts—as short and unpromising as they were — lit the flame of hope and optimism in me again.  (damn it...)

Why won’t Hope just leave me alone?

It's because Hope has made a permanent home in my heart.

Hope will never leave me.

Damn it!

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Expecting Nothing

I scanned another database of more than 250 publishers interested in some form of relational self-help books.

I checked out another library book that lists children’s publishers…

Many publishers are not accepting unsolicited manuscripts or queries.  They want to only deal with well-known literary agents…

But there are a few who will look at our stuff, so I sent out another load of queries for both the relationship book and the children’s book.  I’m just reaching out to as many publishers and agents as I can, all at once — just to get it over with…

I don’t expect anything to come from any of this… 

I’m just going through the motions…

I’m keeping my expectations low, so I won’t be disappointed when I don’t hear from anyone for a long time… if ever.

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Never Satisfied

I went bowling for the first time in more than two decades. I warned my friend that I was terrible, but she didn’t mind.  She bowls once a week in her boyfriend’s league, and she thought our outing would give her a fun way to practice.

I was true to my word.  I WAS terrible!  I bowled a “34” in the first game.  It’s amazing, I’m given 20 chances to hit the pins, and I only mange to knock down 34 pins in all that time.  As you can imagine, most of my rolls ended in the gutter.

It was fun, though; because we celebrated every time I actually managed to keep the ball on the lane and hit something. 

We paid for two games; so, with my chin held high, I tried again and again.  I was determined to beat “34” in this next game.  I was so bad the first time that I didn’t think I could get any worse.

It wasn’t until mid-game that I tried something unconventional… and managed to strike all the pins down in one throw. 

I tried it again and managed another strike… and then another… followed by spares and more strikes…

Both my friend and I were in disbelief, along with the people in the lane next to us.  They couldn’t believe it either!!!

I ended that game with “127.”  Unbelievable!!!

We both bowled our “personal best” in that second game, so thought we’d pick up a third game.

That was a mistake.  My fingers were getting tired, I was getting hungry, and my attention span was waning for this game — and all of this showed in the third game.  I was much better than the first game — hard not to be—but not as good as in the second.

But in the third game, if I got anything less than a strike or a spare, I was disappointed. 

The celebratory feel of the first game and the disbelief of the second game were missing in this last game.  In the first game, I was happy to hit ANYTHING.  In the second game, I was amazed at hitting so many. 

In the third game, I focused on what I missed and not what I had hit.  Instead of being happy with how much I improved from the first game, I ended the night disappointed.

Too many times, we do the same in life.  We focus on what we don’t have and not on all the things we do have.  

We'd enjoy our lives so much more if we would stop doing that.

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Responsiveness in Healthy Relationships

Katherine came across this video that shows the role of responsiveness in healthily relationships. While this footage is of a mother and her baby, it's relevant to all relationships.  

Basically, the video reminds us, that no matter how old we are, we become hurt when those closest to us are non-responsive to our attempts in engaging them in a relationship.

What I find interesting is how quickly the baby responds back after being ignored by the mother.  There's no "holding a grudge" or "getting even" for the hurt inflicted.  The baby's just happy to have her mom interacting with her again.   

I think this is something we can learn from babies. 

Check out the link:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apzXGEbZht0&feature=player_embedded

 

 

Held Hostage by the Garage

I packed the car and was ready to get on the road.  I pushed the button for the garage door to open and… nothing happened. 

I pushed it again… and still nothing.

I mumbled to myself that I didn’t have time for this.  I had to be at the church… NOW!

I got out of the car, pulled out the 4’ ladder to reach the manual release, so I can pull the garage door up, manually.  The door wouldn’t move.  It was locked in place.

I looked around, hoping that I was missing something.  I pulled the manual release again and again… only to get the same result over and over again… The door wouldn’t move.

It’s really irritating to be held hostage by a garage door — but this damsel in distress was determined to get out of the garage… hopefully, sooner than later.

It was early on a Sunday morning — not a good time to call friends for help — but I tried Katherine, since she had to be at the same place that I had to be.  Maybe, she could come by and pick me up, but she said that there wasn’t enough time for that…

So, I knocked on my neighbor’s door on an early Sunday morning, hoping he’ll come out to help. 

While I was waiting for him, I noticed — framed in the early morning sunrise — a handsome knight in shining armor on a silver steed, riding toward me.  Running by his side was his trusted sidekick.

Well… actually, it was a guy in shorts, riding a bicycle, with his son running beside him — but, still, they were a welcomed sight! 

While I was flagging that pair down, my neighbor came out in his mix-matched plaid pajamas and “bed hair.”   I really appreciated him coming out as soon as he could to help me.

I explained my situation to these three heroes and begged them to free me from my dungeon.

They were more than eager and capable of dealing with this villain of mine.

It was determined that the garage door’s spring had busted in half.  We were able to get the door up and hold it up long enough for me to get the car out of the garage, before it came slamming down again.

But I was freed!!  And I got to the church on time!!! 

This was amazing how this day turned around for me — all because of my neighbor and those two strangers who came to my aid.

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Enjoy the Simple Pleasures

On the night of September 30, my mother called to tell me her aunt — my great aunt — died at 7:38 that evening.

My great aunt was 96 years old.  She has been in an assisted living facility for twenty years, and for all of that time, she has been wishing herself “eternal rest”— making our years with her as miserable as she was. 

It was clear that she was not pleased with the way things have unfolded for her.  Her life held no mystery, pleasure, or joy.  Life only held pain and discomfort for her.  Memories of the past didn’t help, because even the past added to her discontentment…

No, she was not happy with her lot in life…

Toward the end, she was in and out of the hospital — internal bleeding coming from some unknown source.

After this last visit, she was discharged to rest comfortable in her own bed. 

I went by my 86-year-old mother’s the following morning, to see if she needed anything from me and to make sure she was emotionally OK. 

Mom seemed relieved that her aunt had finally gotten her wish.  She was taking everything is stride, making funeral arrangements and such.  She appreciated my help, but she had everything under control.

That evening, I took a leisurely walk around my neighborhood.  It was the first cool night of the Florida fall season.  The sun was just setting, and a light breeze was blowing through the trees. 

It was just too precious to waste, so I put on my sneakers and headed off into the sunset.

Someone was grilling steaks outside; kids were riding their bikes and scooters; couples were walking hand-in-hand down the street; a group was playing touch football; and families were walking their dogs.

I passed one house where a couple was still working on their flowerbed.  At another home, an elderly gentleman was enjoying his cigar on the porch.  There were no cell phones or iPods to be seen or heard.

No, everyone was just enjoying the sunset, the breeze, and the beginning of a new season…

The evening’s walk reminded me to enjoy every moment — no matter how ordinary the moment seems — because, sooner or later, the simple pleasures of life will be taken from us…

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