The Book Trap

That Lasting Kiss

I haven't blogged in f.o.r.e.v.e.r. Here, anyway. You can always catch me at The Writer's Alley. But, life has been a bit overflowing--good for me, but not so good for this space of mine. I'll catch you up soon...very soon. But right now, my heart needs to bleed...and this is my perfect ground for such an outpour.

a kiss from long ago..sans curls

Perhaps my middle-aged hormones are kicking in (I remember a time, not too long ago, where "Middle Age" only pertained to me because of my love of history...now, it's a real aspect of the present me. ACK. A blog post for another time).

Maybe, my over-active imagination is a bit swollen today since I am hunkering down to tackle edits and brainstorms. But, when I dropped my kindergartner off today, about a month into school starting, I nearly wept on the way home. It was a strange feeling because of what triggered it.

It was a kiss.

Ever had a hug or a kiss linger as you walk away? I could still feel her curls on my chin and her forehead on my lips. Her small whimper signaling the bittersweet goodbye echoed in my ears when I was almost a block away, and her hand on my neck left its warmth even as I turned on the highway.

What a blessing.

To leave her in the care of her teacher but take a reminder of my love home with me.

But my mind is a vicious thing, and it taunted me:

What if that's all you have left of her? What if that was the last kiss?

Half of my loves walking the halls

Years ago, those thoughts would have rarely entered the mind of a mother dropping off her kids at
school. Um, I really don't how far back I can go to a time that it never crossed a mama's mind, the morbid thoughts have been a sad reality for nearly my entire adult life.

Fear grips me, and I want to head back to the school and say, "Never mind, World, I am not giving my children to you. I will do this thing myself."

Um...

Been there, done that--didn't go so well. My relationship with my oldest is still on the mends from our brief season of homeschooling (and I am not saying that all homeschool parents choose to educate out of fear. I know they don't. I know some are ten times better than any teacher, and some are given a gift that I, unfortunately, do not possess).

Fear is a crazy voice--it tells me to linger at the school...take my computer and set up shop in the school parking lot so I can keep an eye on the creeps that enter those doors. Hmmm....that would not be so bad...

Fear is never rational, is it?

There is only one thing that can squelch my fear and assure me that there is a last kiss well beyond the future's horizon. And that's my hope.

Hope in things unseen. Hope in a Good Father who cares more for my children than I do. Hope in a school staff who do everything they can to make my children safe. Hope in Love. Hope in Good.

Hope.

Love.

Where would I be if it weren't for Hope? I'd be huddled in a corner waiting for the end of the world to come crashing down. I'd be scared to reach out and love because that is frightening and vulnerable.

Only through Hope can I step into the unknown with confidence and peace.

And so, as I sit here, ready to dive into edits five miles from my children, I realize that my pulse has calmed and the Peace that surpasses all understanding has invaded my heart.

Instead of panic in that last kiss of mine, I can find joy in the lasting kiss that it was, and the next kiss that will last too.

Have a beautiful weekend, and hold close those that you love.

When Your Kid's Not Thriving

This time last year, I thought, he'll be fine. He's headed to the junior high school. His future was bright after report cards decorated with A's and encouraging teacher notes.

But, our kids are more than just performing students, aren't they?

We discovered so much more about our son than A's last year. We saw his heart--broken and distraught. We felt the pain of social pressure, the consequence of walking in a toxic environment day in and day out, and the mistake of having him start Kindergarten the week after his birthday...unfortunately, 8 years too late.

My son was not thriving. And I wasn't sure we could survive the next steps without carrying the gloom with us...all the way to graduation.

I remember thinking this past spring, how I wish I could dig my heels in and stop time for a minute. His grades and attitude had slipped, and while the school began to prep the students for high school (with a focus on college-prep), I was thinking, "WAIT! My kid is nowhere near ready!! We're still trying to get this middle school thing down!" 

There was this foreboding that he was trying to crawl out of a pit, but someone kept stepping on his fingers.

And when it's your kid's fingers being stepped on? Watch out for Mama Bear!

The school year ended with a bunch of correspondence between us and the school, us and a counselor, us and a nearby school district (actually, a school district that's closer to us...as far as miles go, but also my son's social circles from youth group and our long-term connection with that community).

We were blessed to be heard. The administrators on both sides of the district line were most interested in our son's well-being. We were able to open-enroll and start over the next year.

And our son? Wow, what happens when his parents grab that foot and stops the stepping? The kid got his grip, and some hope. He actually wanted to be social. The kid went from wanting to just skip his electives to come home and not participate in any after school activities, now wanted to hang out with kids he would be in school with. Um, wha'???

Do you know what it feels like when a mother sees her son who was being shoved down, look up again?

Well, it's a heart-breaking relief. Yeah, it's almost like the swell of my spirit presses in on my wounds,  reminds me about the pain--but in a good way. I remember they are there, but something stronger is making them insignificant. That something stronger is Hope, I guess.

So today is his first day, of a new year in the same grade, at a new school. He's getting his second chance to grow wings. And I get to watch him fly.

I feel so much peace right now. I can't hardly imagine the feeling last fall.

When you've gone through a year of not seeing your kid thrive, it's good to step into hope again.

Stepping Into a Dream

I LOVE history. I've written historical and historical romance stories in

• Peru in the 16th century
• England in the 16th century
• Oklahoma in the 19th century
• Utah in 1910
• WWII era in Greece and Texas

   Um, yeah, I love history.

I've spent the past decade of my life exploring the lives of people in the past, and crafting stories to honor their journeys and their cultures with the hope of walking through the door to publication one day.

Well, today, over at the Alley (www.thewritersalleyblog.com), you can celebrate with me as I take the next step in story-telling...

I received the news that one of my stories is getting published with Harlequin's Love Inspired Historical line! I will write a more in depth post soon...but I can hardly sit still long enough to type a whole post! :)

Can you guess which time period above my debut novel is set?

I'll give you a clue... 

I'll Be Back Soon

Life has been on supersonic speed this summer. Time has suddenly become a precious commodity that I can't get enough of.

I got a part time job. And while that doesn't really take up much time, my time outside of work has stepped up a couple of notches in importance. Dealing with mama-guilt is probably my biggest issue. I leave my kids for a few hours, so when I get home I need to make the hours count. And then there's my freelance work, which suddenly exploded.

And my own writing. sigh.

So, needless to say, blogging is stalling a bit. Life trumps it. Hope to start up again soon!

Enjoy your summer!