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tummy

This was a telling tweet. But I sent it out as I send most tweets, light heartedly, once it’s gone, it’s forgotten. Yes, it had started with a tummy ache, which with kids, is just another day at the office for a parent. I rubbed it, hugged him to make it all better and watched him sleep.

Then he couldn’t make it through the day in school the next day, and began to lose his appetite. And when the low grade fever appeared I figured was a stomach big than would just have to run his course.

But my boy who normally runs everywhere he goes couldn’t stand up straight. He walked hunched over and moaned in pain. He lay in my bed while I put up groceries, and then he let out a scream I will never forget. I dropped everything and drove him to the first hospital I could find, his twin sister in tow.

After six hours of labs, scans and tests, he was diagnosed with the one thing that I had pushed to the back oft mind as one of my outrageous hypochondriacal fears. It was his appendix, and it was ruptured.

It was the first time I felt the weight of being away from family and friends. The first time that I realized that my mom was now more than three hours away as opposed to just around the corner.

But mostly I realized that for two days I had dismissed my son’s pain as something far less serious than it was.

Not that I or anyone could have predicted or prevented it, but still, there’s that old mommy guilt. There’s the what ifs and the woulda, coulda, shouldas.

So today here we are, an emergency surgery later, on day six at the Children’s Hospital. He’s much better than he was before, but not well enough to go home.

I’m trying to make the best of it. Caring for him and reading and writing and keeping my fingers crossed that I can take him home soon.

And I guess that’s it. All I can say and all I can do. I appreciate the well wishes.

Why?

why

I seldom feel the need to explain myself, and I never intended to start now. But since the news of my family’s move to Atlanta has been met with the general inquisition of “why,” I’ve been feeling the need to explain myself, to tick off reasons why we’ve decided to leave this grand old place, and basically, sell the idea of Atlanta to people who are not only not coming with us, but probably won’t even visit.

Our “why” basically is this, though.

We live in a rural area, and though my husband works for the federal government, his particular placement has little room for advancement right now. Atlanta has that. We do have family here, because we were born and raised here. However, that has been a blessing and a curse. Family is there for help and support, but only when they can and want to, and family tends to overstep their bounds. Hell, I’ll say it, my mother especially.

When you have the comfort and convenience of family, it’s hard to motivate yourself to go it on your own. For instance, I almost never have issues with babysitting. On the other hand, my mother often treats me like a teen mom and coaches me (without solicitation) through whatever thing I’m dealing with concerning the children.

We have special needs children, I’ve said that before. The school district has been accommodating, but all the while letting us know that they only have so many resources available and there is only so much they can do. We are relocating to a place where there will be many more resources for the children.

And also, despite their challenges, my children are gifted, but there are no resources here to help nurture their talents besides basic school activities. If my daughter wants to dance, she has to do it in her bedroom.

Finally, we will be in a place where, at last, I can give the proper time and attention to my own career. And not law enforcement. I’ll get to really give freelancing a shot, and I’ll be in a prime place to promote my book next year.

So, there you have it. Those are just a couple of reasons why other than, damn it, it’s our party and we’ll move if we want to.

Suddenly…It’s Sex!

sudden

I don’t know what I had on my mind all this time that made me forget that Alison Tyler’s Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Stories had already been released. I was reminded, however, when I checked my mail yesterday and pulled out a rather heavy package (tee hee, those erotic euphemisms, they never end, I tell ya). Bias to the wind, though, the cover is gorgeous, the blurb brilliant, and inside there is me!

I caught the tail end of the call, as is usually the case, so I only have one story included, but I’m very fond and pround of what I contributed. The name of my story is I’d Rather Go Blind and any Etta James or even Beyonce fan will know where I got my inspiration. The story, however, isn’t about what you would think…if you’re familiar with the song.

Alison’s got a whole blog tour story review thing going on, and I need to get my part done on that, by the way. I haven’t checked lately to see if anyone’s snatched my story up, but the lineup is on her blog post here.

That’s all I have good folks. I decided to end the week on a good note, it being my babies’ born day and all. I had a whole other post brewing for that, but it involved autism type things and was just going in a blues-y direction and who wants that on a Friday? 😉

Breathe…

2013 so far has been a time of transition.  It’s not often that I talk about my day job and that’s because I don’t really like to think about it all that much.  And I hope to one day, and one day soon, be able to let it go and go at writing/editing full time.  There have been changes on the 9-5 and lots of things are up in the air, and I don’t like how anxious that makes me feel.

I don’t often feel in over my head, and I don’t necessarily feel that way now, but I’m also going through a trying time with my daughter, her autism and her school.  At the moment, and I do life moment to moment, I have to, things are, well… okay.

I’m also working on the transition, or rather the balance between writer and editor, seeing things through different eyes and remembering the difference between the two.  It’s been interesting. I’m receiving lots of submissions to my Can’t Get Enough call for Cleis, more than I ever thought I would, and with a whole month still to go.  Bring it on, babes.

I’m also concentrating on being a more consistent writer, even when I’m not submitting.  I’m getting into the habit of writing something everyday, even if it’s for no one but me.

Productivity, you see?

 

Sick and…

…well, you know the rest.

Who knew that a sore throat could last more than a week, even with medication?  So, I hesitate to say that life has gotten in the way, but it happens.  It’s well… life.

I am continuing to write through it all, having progressed one story to the final editiing stage and steadily adding to the word count of another.  The deadline for both is the end of January, beginning of February.  I am also staring down the deadline of my own anthology (Can’t Get Enough for Cleis Press), for which I’ve received a good many submissions, and am happily accepting more until February 15th (see below or my call at Erotica Readers and Writers Association).  I need to write my own story for that as well.

I’m also dealing with life issues, bumps in the road with my daughter, her situation and the school system, but nothing I’m not used to and certainly nothing I can’t handle.

Whatever, whoever, whenever, bring it on.

Stormy Weather

As many years as we have been dealing with this, and as predictable as my daughter’s behaviors are, it still throws me for a loop when we go through our hard times.  Generally, it’s always this time of the year, with the cold weather and the holidays.  She becomes more stubborn and resistant to redirection which makes everything pretty bad for everyone all around.

My daughter is aggressive.  She’s nearly as tall as me (thanks to her bio dad) and very strong.  When she spins out of control, it’s sometimes difficult to “get herself back together.”  She’s had a few pretty major incidents at school over the past few weeks, but the one this past Monday got her not only suspended, but her days shortened until after the holidays.

Her shadow got hurt while trying to restrain her, so she’s out of work, which leads my daughter to having to suddenly adjust to a temporary, possibly new shadow.  And then there’s the guilt.  My daughter loves and is close to her shadow.  She didn’t want and didn’t mean to hurt her.  But, ironically, behaviorly she usually hurts the people she’s most close to, like her twin brother.

We understand it because we live with it everyday, but trying to constantly explain it to people who have to remain in the “safety” and “legal” state of mind is hard.

So, while I’ve stil been writing, and surprisingly able to complete and submit a lot of things, I’ve also been going back and reading these two books:

autismumbrella…because always, always, I’m looking for the fix, for the answer.  I don’t know if it’s in the pages.  I don’t know where it is, or if it even exists.  I just know that during times like this, what it always boils down to is that no one is going to advocate for my child like me.  I’m always on her side, because like last night when she was my loving and cuddly baby, even I forget that she hits, kicks and slaps when she’s upset.  To me, she’s just my little angel.

In the midst of all this, her doctor is leaving his practice for a while to go back to school.  So, I need to find her another specialist, preferrably before she goes back to school full-time.

Whew… it just never ends, does it?

Every Day I’m Thankful…

…for my children, husband, dog, turtle, extended family (even the ones who get on my nerves) and friends I’ve met in the craziest ways (I met one of my besties via Twitter over a year ago) and editors who continue to publish me and even take the time to mentor and encourage me and readers who like my stuff enough to reach out and even those who read and enjoy my stories and I never know anything about it.

But…I’ve got a feeling that today, I’m supposed to be especially mushy about it 😉 so…

I am especially thankful this year and on this day for two children, who I struggled even at my young age to conceive and to carry, who continue to thrive despite numerous challenges, a daughter who, even with ASD, asks for hug after hug and kiss after kiss and comes into my room to tell me she loves me about one hundred times a day.  I am especially thankful for a son who is standing next to me right now reading from a Batman Comic Book after having not spoken a word until he was two years old.

I am thankful for a family physician who, after numerous hospital and specialist visits, had the experience and foresight to test me for Lyme Disease when he out of everyone else recognized the symptoms, when I was ready to just shoot myself to end the misery.  And on that note, I am thankfuly for a boss who left work to come and take me on one of those hospital trips.

I am thankful for a mom to argue with but also have beers and laugh with, a husband who knows and excepts all my flaws.  I am eternally thankful for the ability to continue to do what I love after all these years.

I am certainly thankful for the opportunity to edit my first anthology and to keep coming up with new ideas.

I am thankful, I am, everyday, and always.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Love, Tenille