To Nest or Not To Nest

When we moved to our new home in Georgia a little over a year ago, I had plans. I was determined to root and to do all I could to help my girls to acclimate to the area. I foolishly believed we’d be in this house for a long time, maybe forever. My determination to feel settled turned into a mild obsession. I researched everything. I memorized streets, programs, and other aspects of the community. In time, I’ve come to understand I’d been mimicking the behavior of a mama bird. Wiring in my brain triggered me to make this place home in every way possible.

While attempting to ingrain in our new surroundings to the best of my abilities, I simultaneously found myself hesitating. And I never understood what was behind that hesitation . . . until now.

One year later and we’re headed to a new home. California here we come. I’m about to hit the restart button on all that acclimating and adapting.

I liken my experience here in Georgia to a bird I grew quickly fascinated by outside my office window last year. The mama bird captivated me as she gathered grass and fronds, creating a messy nest atop a column. I loved watching her work, and even captured a few photos. Mama bird proved a nice distraction from writing on more than one occasion. In hindsight, I’m glad I took the time to study this bird.

Because she’s me.

She fretted and swooped and tamped down twigs before they could fall, but they fell anyway. The mama bird never did lay eggs in the nest she spent hours to build. After I told my mom about the bird, she informed me some birds create fake nests to distract predators from the real ones. I wouldn’t say our current home is a fake nest, but I do see now how temporary this stop-over in Georgia was. I’d laugh at my crazy attempts to root and nest, if it weren’t so human—such a mom thing to do.

Building a safe place for my girls is my highest calling—teaching them resiliency through change, strength through opposition, bravery through trying times. The older I get, the more I’m beginning to grasp that a home doesn’t exist inside brick or stucco walls.

Home is the security that comes from trusting that you’re loved where you are—wherever that may be.

Theory of Convergence

Last week I encountered some of the most exciting moments of my writing career, and I also endured one of the hardest days as a parent I’ve ever lived through.

Remember the movie Say Anything with John Cusack as Lloyd Dobler? Boombox blaring “In Your Eyes” anyone? There’s a scene I’ll never forget from that movie when Lloyd’s love interest, Diane Court, says, “I have this theory of convergence that good things always happen with bad things. I know you have to deal with them at the same time, but I just don’t know why they have to happen at the same time.”

Yep. That was me last week.

Hitting monumental strides on the writing front. And nearly losing it as a parent.

I’ll get to the rough stuff first. On Thursday, a sixteen-year-old male student from my daughter’s high school was arrested and charged with one count of terroristic threats and acts. I understand, sadly, this type of thing has been happening all over the country. Makes me sick to my stomach to think this kid had a plan. As Thursday went on things grew even more terrifying though. What began as occasional texts from my daughter escalated into an entire day of confusion, intermingled with rumors, on social media and among the students, of a lockdown, “friends at the high school determined to finish the job,” helicopter surveillance, beefed-up police presence, a hallway off-limits, buried guns, teachers locking doors, and most of the student body picked up by parents mid-day due to an additional threat. This threat, via Twitter, ultimately culminated in another student’s arrest after school that same day.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more conflicted as a parent. And angry. And scared. No parent ever wants to coach their child what to do if someone is firing bullets at them. I’m extremely proud of how my daughter handled the events of that day. But that’s just it. She shouldn’t have had to deal with that! Something broke open inside me as I feared for her safety. This cannot continue—parents sending their kids to school wondering if they’ve made a mistake. Students fearing for their lives. It’s time to embrace change.

Now for the exciting news...

I’m now represented by Marlene Stringer with Stringer Literary Agency and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I loved my conversation with Marlene last week. She’s everything I’ve been looking for in an agent, plus she’s passionate about my novel. I could go on and on about what brought me to this point in my career, but those are stories for another post. I’m here now, represented by a stellar agent, hopeful about what the future holds.

Call it theory of convergence or life in general, I’m choosing to be grateful through all of it.

*I'll be back March 12th

A Note about Raising Girls

We celebrate three birthdays within eight days in the second half of January. I love raising girls. I consider it one of the greatest joys and one of the greatest callings of my life. There are days I’m convinced I’m blowing it entirely, then there are other days when I get glimpses of my girls growing into thoughtful and bright young women. Hope yet.

There are days of endless laundry and talking them down and building them up. There are days of exhaustion and feeling like nothing I do is making one lick of difference. One of my daughters is set on becoming President. I tell her to hurry up because this country needs her. I cried hard after the election and I’m still not at peace about who our country’s current leader is. Hope yet. The #MeToo movement is strong. Women are marching and my daughters are getting older.

I pray my messages are getting through to my girls—lessons like be brave, stand up for what you believe, kindness matters, think before you speak, your worth is and never will be in what others think of you, your life matters…

More than that, I pray I’m modeling all of the above for them. Because that’s the best way to transfer a message.

So I push through the dark days. I fight through the monotony. I refuse to give up if something matters to me. I forgive. I love. I support other women. 

Hope yet.

{The birthdays wiped me out...I will be back here blogging on Feb. 5th.}