Thanks, Rachel and Rachel and Brian

In September, my friend Rachel Hough said, "Hey! I've got a lake house--let's go!" So this weekend we did. 

I've spent the past few months trying to find my new balance. Briley is in the fifth grade (which is the worst grade ever invented if you ask me); Hadley's in her last year of middle school; Brian's busy with teaching and picking up the pieces that I drop as I try to juggle my life. The transition of having my mom at home with us has really been an easy one, but it's a change nonetheless. My last TMI Mom book, Girlfriend Rules, was just published and my next book, Life With Extra Cheese, was moving along slowly.

Normally, once the girls are in bed, I sit down and write a few chapters.

Lately, though, once the girls (including my mom) are in bed, I crawl into my own bed and essentially start drooling before my head hits the pillow. (Don't worry about it, though; the cats lick up my face for me.)

The most common question I'm asked when I am speaking or presenting is "How do you do it all?" Up until recently, I would just shrug my shoulders and say I didn't know. And I really didn't know. It just worked, and it just happened.

The past few months, though, I've felt literally drained. I needed to be revived. I needed some time--just time.

So with a ton of momma (and daughter) guilt, my mom went to stay with my sister, Rachel, Brian wrangled the kids (including one that developed strep throat) and I went to the lake with my friend, Rachel.

 

It was exactly what I needed. We didn't have wi-fi, which was a good thing. We had Taco Doritos and peanut M & Ms, which was also a good thing. I changed into yoga pants on Friday evening and didn't change out of them until this morning. This was a very good thing.

My mind cleared. My shoulders eased. My words flowed.

Ahhh ... it was  good weekend. Thanks, Rachel, Rachel and Brian for letting it happen.

#NaBloPoMo: My Writing Space

I'd love to show you my writing space, it's light-colored walls full of inspiring photos of my family. A bookshelf in a corner holds my favorite books, including every single book of Celia Rivenbark. I sit in a high-back, high-end leather chair, facing my large solid oak desk that is beautifully cluttered with this and that and a paperweight with a four-leaf-clover suspended inside, even though I have a small framed quote that reads Diligence is the mother of luck.

I cannot show you that space, though, because it doesn't exist. We do have an office and a fairly nice desk. But, I only use it if I'm writing something academic. And since I've run the gamut of academia, I never sit in there to write.

Instead, I write on the couch. Much like Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory, I nestle myself into my spot on our blue love seat in the living room and I sit down to write.

I'd also love to tell you that the words spew forth from me like vomit from a sick kid on November 1. But, that's not always the case. Sometimes, I can sit and write and write and write.

Most times, however, I sit and get a good ideas then get distracted by, well, The Big Bang Theory.

Yay! It's time to write!

Ooooo ... Great idea!

Oh my goodness ... is The Big Bang Theory on The CW again?

Now, what was I going to do again?

When push comes to shove and I have major writing to do or certain deadlines looming, I'll move into the front room and position myself on the brown leather couch--my favorite couch ever! But, there are hazards being in there as well.