She Started It

I’m sorry I haven’t written much. I just don’t have anything to say.

Well, except:

1. I love a president who doesn’t need his teleprompter to talk. Actually, I love a president who just knows how to talk.

2. Every Panera Bread in this entire country must set its thermostat at 50 degrees. I’m typing in a sweater coat and jeans, and I’m still freezing. I’ve been in PB’s in about 5 different states, and I have this problem in all of them. My butt is practically frozen to the seat. I’m considering ordering a hot chocolate in 90 degree weather. What keeps me returning, is that it’s often the closest place to wherever I am that offers free wi-fi.

3. I’m swimming upstream, as usual, over at skirt!

That’s right. I caved. I joined twitter. Look for me under “shestartedit.” I did not really care to join twitter. Also, I don’t totally “get” twitter.  But I’m willing to throw myself into it to at least try it out. Follow me and let me know if I sound like an idiot, will you?

It’s this post from one of my favorite agent blogs that finally made me bite the bullet. I’d heard for months that it’s important to be on a variety of social networks to build your platform. But seeing it spelled out for me, made me think I should give it a try.

So I’m officially a Nit Twit.

The same day I signed up for twitter, my friend Miriam sent me a link to join SheWrites, a social networking site for women writers! As someone who is in the process of looking for agents for two different projects, it could not have come at a better time. Please join and look for me over there.

I realize I haven’t said anything about Michael Jackson’s death. I have not watched news coverage of the aftermath, nor did I watch the memorial service. I find the whole thing incredibly sad, particularly for his kids. But to be quite honest, I find the coverage of him to be so hypocritical. No one has given a rat’s ass about him since Thriller, unless they were making fun of him. Last week while standing in line at the grocery store, I was leafing through People magazine. The last page was entitled “Wacko Jacko” something or other, and was about how MJ had started wearing women’s clothes. The magazine was distributed before he died, and still in circulation after his death.

This morning I loaded the girls up in the minivan for a trip to the pool. Before we even made it out of our subdivision, rain started hammering my windshield. One block later, the thunder and lightening forced me into a complete turn-around. Once back at the house, the girls settled themselves at the table with crayons and paper. I leafed through our CD book (yes, we are retro here and listen to things called CDs) and found The Jackson 5 Ultimate Collection.

I cranked it up, and as the pellets of rain pounded our windows, we danced like hell around the living room in our bathing suits.

No, there will certainly never, ever be another MJ.

I’m loving having older children.

I don’t even see them before 10 or 11 most mornings. They wake up and either read or play in their own rooms. Gone are the days with the early morning prods by little hands who demand an immediate bowl of cold cereal. Breakfast morphs into lunch here, and unless I have an errand to run or we go to the pool, I let them stay in their pjs all day.

My 7-year old has been taking showers without assistance for a while, and since we got 10-inches lopped off her hair, she’s been even washing and towel-drying her hair herself. Last night, I promised a popsicle to both kids if they would go up together and help each other take a shower, and wash and dry their hair. (My 5-year old can’t get the shampoo out of her hair without help.) To my husband’s and mine complete shock, they came down twenty minutes later in their pjs, with perfectly brushed hair.

Like I said, I am loving having older kids.

I wrote this piece a while back, tried to get it published in various places, but it was a no go. Now it’s up at skirt!

Last night we returned from a 26-hour round-trip road-trip. This means that since Memorial Day weekend, I’ve been in the car with my kids for 45 hours.

We’ve been to Tennessee twice, Florida and Delaware, with stops to see a dear friend in North Carolina, walk the campus of my college alma matter, and a delightful detour to run with the wild ponies on Chincoteague and Assateague Islands — a trip that fulfilled my oldest daughter’s dream. In Delaware, the highlight was a visit with MemeGRL, who drove 2+ hours to visit us with her two kids. I miss you, O!

I’m exhausted. The baby started cutting a tooth two days before we left, and was essentially up half the night every night of the trip. And since she doesn’t sleep in the car, whoever sat next to her had to constantly entertain her in between bouts of excessive, exhaustive crying. Though the trip was well worth it, I will not do this much driving in the car again until the baby is over 2 and has the attention span to watch at least a few minutes of a DVD!

Hope you all had a lovely 4th! We celebrated last night with our neighbors and hastily purchased sparklers from a gas station in Nowheresville, South Carolina on the drive back home. Hours of unpacking await me…

Thanks for everyone’s advice on the last post. It was very helpful. I’m thinking of asking my awesome sitter for a price reduction for one kid. It can’t hurt. Or maybe if I tell her she doesn’t have to change a diaper or feed the baby, I can get 35% percent off her current rate. (Ha, ha. Bad joke, I know.)

In hindsight, I regret the fact that I’ve never even taken the baby to the gym daycare. At least she would have gotten used to being dropped off somewhere else. Darn 20/20.

I’ll keep you posted.

A quick funny (and relevant) story before signing off:

I was walking around town with the kids today, and this woman standing outside the Starbucks gives me this big smile, looks at the girls, and says, “Do you need a babysitter?” She then whips out this printed business card with her contact info and all the services she provides. I asked how much she charges — it’s a very fair rate. We talked for a few minutes, and then parted ways. I’m thinking of emailing her and contacting her references. I’ve no idea what (if anything) will come of it, but I just thought the whole encounter was a bizarre coincidence. Maybe karma is working in my favor.

I’m out to lunch, up at skirt! Have a great weekend.

If you recall, in January I hired a sitter to watch the baby about 4-5 hours a week. She was awesome, lived close by, and the baby loved her. (The Big Girls were in school during this time, so they didn’t really get to see her.)

Having a sitter just 4 hours a week was an indescribable luxury. I went to doctor’s appointments unencumbered (this was when I had that back pain and knee trouble, so there were many) and I’d also get groceries, work out, and write. B.S. (before sitter), I would have described mothering three children as “difficult;” A.S. (after sitter) I  described it as hard, but very manageable. Having those few hours a week changed my perspective that much. I went from feeling insane, to feeling quite sane.

Sadly, our lovely sitter hasn’t been available since mid-May. She took on a full load of summer classes, and along with her job at the mall, has a too busy of a schedule. And in August, she’ll be transferring to an out-of-state college.

As luck would have it, we found another sitter. Another wonderful woman who is both loving and anal about watching children — my dream combination. The problem is, is that she’s also very expensive. Four or five hours a week, every week, is just too much money for sitting. But for things that I really need to do without kids, she’s perfect.

So I’m considering sending the baby to a Mother’s Morning Out program two mornings a week, at the same church-run preschool my 5-year old attended. She’ll be exactly 18 months old at the beginning of the school year. My question is — is this the worst possible age to start daycare? My oldest didn’t start preschool until she was almost 4. My second went a few times a month to a drop-in program when she was 2, but was 3 before she regularly attended preschool.

If the baby were younger, I could easily sneak out, and she wouldn’t even notice me leaving. If she were 2 or 3, she’d probably be happy to go. But how is it starting a program at 18 months or thereabouts? Will she scream and cry? Will she get used to it quickly? Will she be sick all the time because she’ll still be putting things in her mouth?

What say you, Internet-Friends? Inquiring minds want to know.

I loved the perspective of this piece, via 11D and Megan McArdle, about why people are so old by the time they publish a book.

I’ve sent out 26 queries so far, and received 8 rejections. Most of them are form rejections, but the few that aren’t are telling me that rhyming picture books are an impossible sell right now.

Great.

Onward.

I’m having a little bit of tough time with researching agents, because a lot of them say they handle “children’s books” but this doesn’t necessarily mean that they handle picture books. When I research an agent, I look at the Writer’s Digest, Jeff Harmon’s Guide to Literary Agents, the agent’s website, querytracker.com and agentquery.com. Do you know of any other places that I might be able to find out who does picture books? Oh, duh, I have a Guide to Literary Agents sitting right here.

I’m also having trouble focusing and sticking to one task at a time. For example, I’ve recently dusted off the first draft of a young adult novel I started 10 years ago. And I’m thinking, “Hmmm, let me give it a go and see what happens.” Maybe I should give myself some sort of schedule. Like — Monday, query for picture book; Tuesday, work on draft of YA novel; Wednesday, edit nonfiction book proposal. Or should I just stick to one project? Thoughts?

I’m way, way off Broadway, over at skirt!

The Atlantic finally put Loh’s piece online. Laura at 11D adds her thoughts, which are similar to your own. There’s a video, for anyone who’s bored.

In retrospect, I did a fabulous job planning for my family for the summer months, and a very poor job planning for me and my own needs. Several months back, I had my husband put in for vacation days to see his family. We then mapped out when we’d go, making sure we were with my niece for her graduation, and at my in-laws’ for a week. I got the car checked out (since we’re driving everywhere). I put my two older girls in a few weeks of camp, and found time for some swim lessons at our gym in between. I scheduled their dental visits, and planned a birthday party.

Unfortunately,  I did not plan out my own needs very well.

I’m trying to fit in querying agents for my children’s book with the kids at home, and it’s taking me a lot more time than I thought. Yesterday, I sent out only five. I had also wanted to finish up my other book proposal, and start querying agents for that as well. At this rate, it’ll be well into July before that one’s ready to go. I know it’s a little early for me to bemoan how little I’ve gotten done this summer, but I’m 3.5 weeks into it (my kids got out before Memorial Day) and I’m not nearly where I want to be.

The good news is that the older two (7 year and as of yesterday, 5 years) are doing a fabulous job entertaining themselves thus far. I intervene to feed them and break up fights. Otherwise, they have been relatively low maintenance. The baby still sticks to me like glue and loves banging on my laptop, but then she tricks her older sisters into entertaining her, which gives me a little more time. Of course, it’s early in the break. I’m sure things will unravel soon enough.

High Five, is up at skirt!

I was going to alert you to Andrew Sullivan’s bullet-point posts regarding the violence in Iran since the election. But Laura at 11D beat me to it. It’s not the most elegant reporting, but Sullivan’s play by play is certainly the most compelling. Twitter has morphed from social networking tool into a political and media machine.

My oldest is at a one week nature day camp. It’s a great way for me to avoid her pleas to do things like camping or canoeing or fishing with the family. Since I cry for the Calomine after spending 5 minutes in my own backyard, I outsource this interest of hers. It’s awesome.