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How Moms Suffer From Senioritis

My plan today was to write about how much fun it’s been meeting fellow She Writes Press authors. There are just over 300, seventeen who live in Chicago. In the last few weeks, I’ve been to two book release events and a social gathering where I’ve reveled in having nerdy author conversations about everything from galley proofs to audiobook technology to stage fright—conversations that, like all good ones, translate to many different life experiences. I wanted to write about some “aha!” moments I’ve had because of these connections.

But that blog will have to wait.

Because when I climbed into my car to head to Michigan this morning for a visit with my mom, something else climbed in with me.

Is This Really The Best You Can Do? Before You Answer, Read This…

In honor of Mother’s Day (and due to a very busy week), I decided to re-run this blog from last February. This is for anyone who needs to be reminded that you’re doing a helluva job.

These days, being a mother requires the memory of an elephant—and the thick skin of one too. Thanks to a recent scene with my 15-year-old son, I won’t soon forget that most of us are simply lumbering our way through parenthood, and life.

When Life is Like a Sandwich You Didn’t Order

Don’t you hate it when you have to follow your own advice? When writers tell me that they’re stuck, I always point them toward the present moment and ask:

What’s happening right now that you can use?

What is the conversation you’re already having that can be transferred to the page?

So when I was stuck this week about what to blog about, I grudgingly asked myself the same questions. And I didn’t like the answers.

Ask Me Anything: Just Not About Love

Last night, when I went to kiss my 12-year-old daughter goodnight, she burst into tears.

“Why can’t I see them more often?” she wailed. She was talking about her friends, the triplets, who had been at our house for a sleepover.

My daughter met the three sisters several years ago at a family summer camp, and the four of them have remained friends despite the 70 miles between them. They had a wonderful visit, crammed with movies, make-overs, homemade cake pops, and late-night giggles—the stuff of memories. But none of that stopped her from sobbing in grief.

Have a Question? Ask Your Children.

Last night I was attempting to explain to my 10-year-old daughter that anxiety can come from believing something that’s not true.

“Our brains don’t know the difference between what’s real and what’s not real,” I said. I was about to launch into a sure-to-be-cumbersome definition of perception and reality, when she said:

“Right, because the mind and the brain are two separate things. The brain is physical and the mind is spiritual. If your mind thinks that something is real, then your brain and your body will act according to what you think.”

Whoa. I just got schooled.

7 Tips for Writing a Killer College Essay

I can honestly say that I’ve never been a helicopter mom. I’ve never stayed up later than my kid to put a few “finishing touches” on her science project. I don’t schedule meetings with teachers or principals or send carefully worded “concerned” texts to mothers of my kids’ friends. I don’t have tracking devices on their phones.

For years I’ve been cool. I’ve been laid back. Except when one of my kids puts a piece of writing in front of me. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching for a red pen. The itch to edit or tease something sublime from each sentence is simply too great to resist. I MUST put my mark on it.

Oh Boy! This Mother Has Something to Say.

Boys, boys, boys… They’ve been a recurring theme this week. Just before my two teenage boys returned from a long vacation, I was at a party where two little boys were jumping and running and entertaining all of us with paper airplanes. We started talking about the unique exuberance of boys, reminiscing on everything from wrestling matches between brothers to the obsession that unites all boys: trucks.

I shared that my one of my oldest son’s first words was backhoe.

Is This Really The Best You Can Do? Before You Answer, Read This

These days, being a mother requires the memory of an elephant—and the thick skin of one too. Thanks to a recent scene with my 15-year-old son, I won’t soon forget that most of us are simply lumbering our way through parenthood, and life.

While my son was at school I was supposed to drop his laptop off at his dad’s house, but I was engrossed in listening to a book-on-tape while driving across town, and it completely slipped my mind.

Racial Injustice: Is This Just The Way It Is?

The shooting deaths of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling made headlines last week, pushing their way even into my headline. I don’t like to jump into hot political topics, but I read a riveting blog called “The Conversation We Must Have With Our White Children” by Courtney E. Martin. She said to make the reality of white privilege “a part of your daily consciousness, even when it seems tiring and burdensome.”

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