mothering

Falling Upstairs

Posted on by Beth Hull

The funny thing about toddlers is they fall. All the time. Sometimes it’s tragic, and my daughter’s screams just make me want to weep with pity. Other times it’s freaking hilarious and I stifle laughter while wiping away her tears. I mean, really–running into the doorway? Or listening to her say, “Run, run, run, run….” BOOM! Priceless.

Yesterday, though, I was starting to feel like a toddler myself. Not falling so much as accident prone. Clark the cat, bless her, tried to jump on my lap, missed (okay, I moved at the last second), and scratched/punctured me knee. Ouch.

Then Z thumped into my lap to read a book and crunched my finger. Ouch again, but I recovered quickly and went on to read Baby Bear’s Books (Jane Yolen) through gritted teeth.

Finally, during Five O’Clock Disco Dance Breakdown, I did the electric slide onto a small pink prism for the shape sorter cube. I truly thought my dancing days were over. Husband had to work late, so I limped around for the rest of the evening, giving Z her bath [UPDATE: She now takes her bath in the bathtub proper, and the infant tub is stored in the garage, waiting for Z’s hypothetical sibling] and getting her ready for bed. I thought of using my practically broken foot as an excuse not to exercise today, but I couldn’t even trick myself, so I guess it’s not that bad.

Still hurts, though.

Today has been better. I walked behind Z as she climbed upstairs and watched her take risks. She let go of my hand, then let go of the railing, then twisted sideways, gallumped up two steps, paused on the third. She gave a sort of hop. Fine of course, no falls. Toddlers fall down frequently, but the beauty of it is they have something adults grow out of: resilience and fearlessness.

My foot still hurts, and I’m going to be extra vigilant when “clearing the dance floor” in the future.

[Further UPDATE: The vertical blinds ARE GONE! Husband read my entry “The Land of Dull Knives and Duller Wits” and I think something spoke to him. Next time I’ll complain about the macabre drapes in the front room. It will be magic! I write, and they disappear!]

First NiFtY Author Interview: Seven N. Blue

Posted on by Beth Hull

For my very first NiFtY (Not Famous…Yet!) Author Interview, I give you Seven N. Blue. I met Seven through the Sacramento Writer’s Group and we clicked immediately. Not only are we both highly intelligent, creative writer mamas, but we have written our young adult fantasy manuscripts in tandem. Seven has incredibly fascinating ideas as well as the ability to construct convincing and endearing characters. Without further introduction, here…she…is!

BH: Where do you get most of your ideas and inspiration?

SB: From music, music videos, and artwork. Sometimes video games.  I don’t really play them, but there are some gorgeous video games out there (Still Life, Silent Hill) those are two of my favorite aesthetically speaking – I played Silent Hill just to watch the scenery. And music.  I love music of almost any era. I consider music a time machine and a doorway to the imaginary world I spend a lot of time at.

BH: Do you have a set writing schedule, or are you more of a “when the mood hits” kind of girl?

SB: Must have a writing schedule. I have a toddler!

BH: Can you compare Myla, the main character in The Innocents, to anyone you know in real life?

SB: There is a little of me in Myla, but then again, there is a little of me in almost every character I write. I had an interesting teen life. I did things that, well, most teens would not.  Like getting married at 16, for example.

BH: Wow, 16! I never knew that about you. Are you willing to share anything about that?

SB: Yeah, it lasted 11 months! I was divorced  living on my own by the time I was seventeen.

BH: Can you share any details about your current WIP (work in progress)?

SB: Oohhh! That is top secret! At least right now!

BH: (Well, without spilling anything to the audience, I will whisper: I know a little bit about it, and trust me, it’s gonna be great.)

What does your writing workspace look like?

SB: This is funny.  Right now I am sort of “in the hallway” of life.  In “between places”.  My Red Dell Laptop on a very cluttered desk (the desk is not mine, but the laptop is!).

BH: You’ve just finished a young adult (YA) novel, and your WIP is a YA novel. Any plans to write for other age groups?

SB: I don’t know.  It’s hard to say. I feel like I will always be seventeen inside. Maybe I can do early twenties, like in five years…when I emotionally grow up!

BH: What is your favorite YA novel of all time?

SB: I am going to have to say two authors here, because they both blew me away.  Definitely The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. That book was amazing.  Not just the story line but how incredible Collins was at juxtaposing the feelings in her characters.  For example, the main character really liked her partner…a lot…he saved her life…but she had to kill him. I also love love love Holly Black and her bad girl protagonists.  Valiant is one of my favorite books ever because of her unforgettable characters like Sketchy Dave and Lollipop and a plot where injecting fairy dust can make mortals perform magic – think of the possibilities for story with that plot!

BH: When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

SB: When I was six and my father raved about a short story I wrote.  I won every writing contest in elementary and junior high (I still have the trophies! Well, they’re in storage now while I am in the “hallway” of life).

BH: Are you currently seeking an agent’s representation? What are you looking for in an agent?

SB: I am looking for agent representation.  I just want a good agent who will do what they say, and I hope we both can have a lot of fun, be productive, and achieve our dreams together.

BH: What is the best advice anyone has given you with regards to your writing?

SB: Grow a thick skin, believe in your dreams and keep on writing.  Don’t wait for inspiration, sit your butt in the chair and believe in the process of writing. It will develop, the ideas will come and they will amaze you.

BH: You’ve always struck me as a very positive, upbeat person when it comes to your writing. I think all aspiring novelists can use a bit of the positive in their lives–any tips on how to keep the hope alive, even when the query rejections try to smother it?

SB: This is funny, I am there right now.  I think I have received about thirty rejections so far, along with some great feedback from the ABNA reviewers (The Innocents made it to the top 5% Quarterfinals for 2010) to alleviate the pain.  I also have a partial out right now and I am waiting for feedback.  My advice would be to realize that it is a power greater than yourself who is writing through you, and you must keep going.  You will be tested to see how badly you want it, and you must persevere.  It is all part of the process – growing a thick skin through rejection letters is what prepares us for when we are published and half the folks love us while the other half hates us.  I think rejections are all part of the process of becoming a professional published writer.  We all have to go through it and we should welcome them with open arms because all they is that we are that much closer to our dream agent, and our book deal.

BH: What is your experience like, balancing writing and motherhood?

SB: Wow.  Yeah, not easy.  I have a writing schedule I abide by.  I write no matter what during the allotted time.  When I am supposed to be spending time with my son, then I spend time with him wholeheartedly and not worry about my writing because I know I have a schedule.  A schedule is the only way I can function!

There you have them: wise words from my pal and critique “pardner” Seven. She might not be famous…YET, but with her talent and dedication, it won’t be long. Special thanks to Seven for being my very first interviewee!

On Seven’s website you can read everything from book reviews, to advice on writing, to musings about family and motherhood. And today, as an added bonus, she has interviewed me as well!

Lettuce Have a Moment of Silence

Posted on by Beth Hull

Not for anything you know, like, serious. My winter garden is far, far past its prime, and I’ve got to tear up the lingerers.

The Few, the Proud, the Romaine

The sad thing: I don’t know if you can see the little reddish bits in the background, but those are my red-leaf lettuce seedlings, looking super-scrumptious. But I just learned that lettuce doesn’t do well here in summer, and it’s hard to learn that something I’ve nurtured might not thrive. (Like my first novel. But when I actually think about that one, all I really feel is relief.)

But so much that I grow does thrive. I’ve got more tomato plants than the fields down the road (this is an exaggeration. Sort of), and carrots doing their carrot thing below the soil, and strawberries sunflowers and anything else I can make room for. It’s work, but it’s fun work. And Z loves the strawberries. Sometimes a little too early.

Mother’s Day is Sunday (in case you’ve been hiding under a rock and haven’t noticed all the cards, flowers, and the bombardment of advertisements thrown at you in every medium). I’m looking forward to having Saturday off, and then Sunday to enjoy my family. And yes, I’m hoping for a present. A little material recognition of how well I take care of Z, and how I keep our house tidy and the dishes done (okay, maybe not those last two).

At the same time I’m really grateful for Z. Sure she can be an Unholy Terror of Screaming Proportions. But she makes me laugh all the time. I’d get her a present in honor of Mother’s Day…except it would just be another thing for me to avoid picking up when I don’t clean the house.

If You’re Happy and You Know It

Posted on by Beth Hull

First, two cute toddler things:

1) Z has been dancing and trying out hand motions to songs for awhile now, and I believe this is a result of a couple of different factors: the Music Together program, and the fact that I often sing to Z and recite nursery rhymes and poems instead of suffering through enjoying her scintillating conversations about whether the dogs next door are awake, asleep, eating, wearing diapers, singing, or barking.

Of course I’d like to believe a huge part of her love of music and dancing is due to a) her inherent genius-ness and b) an inheritance of my own unrealized talent for singing and dancing (I can hear family and friends laughing aloud at this. Shut up. I’m totally talented as a singer/dancer. Chicago NEEDS me, and everyone would love Cats if I were cast as Grizabella and warbled out “Memory”).

Whatever the reason for the dancing and accompanying hand movements, it’s pretty cute.

2) Another cute thing is her Entourage. This is the name I’ve given her stuffed animal friends. Not all of them are animals, though. We have Mr. Penguin, Talula (a cat), Noop (a doll), Doggie, Giraffe, Giraffe (again), Bird, and…Necrotizing Fasciitis. Necrotizing Fasciitis is a giant stuffed microbe holding a fork and knife, a joke gift from when Husband did lab work in school.

Z carries her Entourage around the house. Usually she only has three A-listers, since that’s all she can manage to carry, and she switches it up a bit (perhaps Z, too, notices that conversation can get dull when hanging out with the same person day after day after day).

The cute things are totally necessary right now, because life has not been serene or happy in my house lately. I have to steal these cute moments when they come, because at naptimes and most of the night she has been an Unholy Terror of Screaming Proportions (UTSP). The UTSP is not happy, and everyone knows it. Including the neighbors, their dogs, and the people one county over. There has been so little hand-clapping, foot-stomping, shouting-hooray fun here that I even -gasp!- considered getting a job and sending the UTSP to daycare just so I don’t have to deal with her anymore. Last night I was about to give Husband my formal resignation.

But then, she was falling asleep in her enchilada at 6:30, so we (er, Husband, that is, since I was still busy sulking) whisked her off to bed, and she didn’t wake up until 6:30 this morning. Which for Z, and by default, me, is sleeping in.

I don’t know if the sunny disposition will last, for either of us, which is why I’m going to clap my hands, stomp my feet, shout hooray, and let my face show the tiny, stolen happinesses I find.

My Suit of Armor

Posted on by Beth Hull

Cowboys wear tight jeans, boots with loopy embroidery, and giant silver belt buckles. Corporate executives wear suits and ties. James Bond wears a tuxedo and looks mighty fine. Chefs wear white hats and white aprons and wield spatulas. Superheroes sport spandex and capes, doctors don lab coats and stethoscopes, construction workers wear t-shirts and hard hats, and I? The writing mother?

I wear sweats.

Z knows when we’re going out because I finally put on jeans. And for some people, jeans are like, dressing down. Whenever there’s a wedding to go to, or a writer’s conference (like last Saturday and this upcoming Saturday: SCBWI Spring Spirit Conference for Nor Cal!), I’m left with a closet full of question marks. “Does this even fit anymore?” I wonder. For last weekend’s writer’s conference I must have tried on fifteen different outfits. And then, taking the all-inclusive trip into Nerdy Obsessive Land, I even got out my digital camera and took pictures of myself in the mirror. I was thisclose to uploading them on Snapfish and sending an invitation to two close friends for help in deciding what to wear when I finally got over it and figured out, “You know, I’m 29 years old. I think I can choose a professional-ish outfit. Even though none of them make me look 15 pounds lighter.”

I know that looking professional is a good thing. At least, I think it is. I actually had some success experimenting with this idea when I was a grad student at UC Davis. I’d go in for my office hours most days in jeans (sadly not sweats), a tank top, and some flip flops, and I’d do my lesson planning and work on my exam papers, and I’d play a bit of Spider solitaire here, a bit of Spider solitaire there. Towards the second half of my second year, I decided to up my professional-dress factor, and began to wear the occasional skirt. If I wore jeans, I’d top them with a blouse instead of one of my left-over-from-high-school tank tops. My Spider solitaire habit might have declined (luckily, I never kept a log of hours or games so I can’t be embarrassed now). But I noticed the change in dress, and a change in attitude. And other people noticed too. Like one of my advisors. It was a good feeling.

These days, I don’t have much reason to get dressed up (and by “dressed up” I mean something above sweats on the formal-wear continuum). I’ll toy around with some jersey dresses and leggings, just to mix things up a bit. But honestly, it takes so much more effort than grabbing the first pair of yoga pants and natty old sweatshirt I can find (usually these are the pants and sweatshirt I took off to take my shower). If we go somewhere, like the grocery store or library story time, I’ll feel like I’m exceeding expectations by swapping those yoga pants for jeans.

And as soon as we get home? Z has to wait for her milk and snack while I change back into the yoga pants.

It’s a sweet life, comfortable. But even I am starting to feel a little grubby.