The Woman and The Words

It should no longer surprise me that it surprises people that I write. Especially since on social media and even on this blog, my words tend to bend toward the more personal aspects of my life. But in thinking about it, as much as I’ve written, submitted and published, my writing is pretty personal, too.

On Twitter yesterday, a pretty new follower was genuinely surprised that I’m a published author. And not that I’m some Toni Morrison or Wally Lamb or even some literary one-hit wonder, but I have done some things. The comment, however, made me wonder, once again, if I have and if I am doing, enough to let the world know that I am, in fact, here.

Not to digress, but yesterday was a pretty awful day in terms of my family life, what with my autistic daughter and dealing with the school system and raising another special needs child and taking care of a home and a husband while writing and holding down a full-time job outside the home.

And, well, yes, that mingled with day to day life and marital issues weighed heavily on what I thought and put out there. What I haven’t been putting out there, apparently, is my writing.

The last contributor’s copy of an anthology featuring one of my stories (if I remember correctly) is Best Bondage Erotica 2011, and that, I believe was received November ’10. Now, since then, I’ve written several new stories, pitched a few anthologies, sold several stories, signed a few contracts and have big things on the horizon. But one wouldn’t know that, I suppose.

So yesterday afternoon, between fits of smoking, drinking, crying and watching my children and dog play in the back yard, I posted a series of pictures on Twitter, and I thought it might be interesting to do the same here, to sort of (re)introduce myself and show you (the world) who I am and what I do, all around. So, here goes:

…I take a lot of my pictures inside a vehicle. Nothing glamorous there.

Cooking is the other creative thing I do. It also destresses and relaxes me.

I obsess over my hair a lot. It’s naturally curly and I keep it short. It’s reddish brown now, though – see above.

This is my daughter drawing. She has Atypical Autism and she is brilliant.

I surprise my husband with things like this because…

…I’m a romantic and I’m in love.

This is my unkempt, imperfect backyard.

This is the hand I write with and the hand on which I wear my wedding ring.

This is where we sleep, fight and make love.

These are just a few of my favorite things.

I have a thing for shoes.

My hyper-active dog.

And, finally, what I do to remind myself that I am a writer.

Also, this is my Amazon Author page.

The Difference Between Blood and Water

When it comes to communication, I am generally the first to hop on my soapbox, however, when it comes to directly communicating with my spouse about certain things, I choose to step back a bit. Most times he’s completely oblivious that anything that has been said or done has affected me in any way, but every now and then, he can guess.

Take yesterday, last night for instance.

But in order to get there, I have to tell you the question I posed to him a year a so ago. I can’t pinpoint my motivation at this point in time, but the question was?

“Am I blood or am I water?”

He quickly assured me that I was blood. It didn’t occur to him that the reason I was asking was because, at the time I was feeling like water.

I realize I married him, thus married into his life, his family, etc., and we share no biological children. However, when it comes to family, he is mine.

There have been times in our relationship where I’ve felt like I don’t stand a chance against, say, his sister, cousin, mother, and often, his son’s mother. Therefore, when he asks my opinion, I tell him what I know he wants to hear, or I say nothing at all.

But, I digress. This is what happened yesterday.

We were at my mother’s for a bit and decided to visit a cousin of his a town away. Just a quick trip to chill for a little, and being that the next day was a school day, we wouldn’t be keeping the kids out that long.

His phone was dead, so he called from mine. There apparently were some happenings that way, so we prepared to go. When his phone livened up enough, he saw that he had a text message. It was from said cousin. It went something like: “Cuz, no kids allowed.”

Let me say first, that I understand “no kids allowed.” I have stated this verbally and written when planning adult parties at nights and on weekends when I knew my own children wouldn’t be present and there would be alcohol and no proper care for the children. But…this is when I’m “planning” something. People come by our house on a social basis unexpectedly all the time and then sometimes bring their children. Sometimes mine are there and sometimes mine are not. However, I don’t turn them away because of this or forewarn them at the last minute that if they have their kids, don’t bother coming.

I made a comment or two about it, and he noted that it seemed I had an attitude about it, which I did. But, as I’ve said before, it’s not always what you say or do, but how you say or do it.

We don’t have my stepson every weekend, and never that late on a Sunday, so the “kids” who weren’t allowed were obviously and specifically mine when it came to us coming. I just think I would have taken it better had she said to him immediately, something like, “we don’t have any kids down here, though,” or “we’re having some adult only” entertainment. Don’t wait fifteen minutes, as if it’s an afterthought or you’ve had some sort of discussion about it, then text HIS phone not MINE and tell HIM, not me “Cuz, no kids allowed.” It was as if she were whispering it in his ear so I wouldn’t hear. And, I probably never would have known had I not checked his phone myself.

All that being said, me and the un-allowed kids stayed home (and I DO realize my children weren’t singled out, but I am very mother bear about my children, and with their behavioral disabilities I feel bad enough burdening other people and their homes by bringing them over). At first, he seemed supportive as if he was going to stay home with us, but I could tell he was getting antsy. He sort of mentioned in passing that he would like to go, which was fine, and he went.

And he had a good time, and that was good, too.

But once, just once, I would like to not feel like I’m overreacting or taking things too personal or feeling like he siding with family over me, but that’s how I felt. And I realize that I could have simply mentioned all this to him, but knowing my husband the way that I do, there is no way he would have seen it through my eyes. He said in fact, “you’ve told people ‘no kids allowed’ before,” and like I said, yes, I have, but not when they’re basically already at my door step.

But, I’m sounding redundant. I just had to get that out there because I’ve been stewing about it overnight.

Blah, blah, blah.