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Hundredfold Blessings

Throw the confetti, sound the trumpets, and cue the parade (you can hold the clowns though) this post is officially my 100th blog entry.

I wondered what I should write for my 100th post? Should I wax poetic about my fiancĂ©; my children; the support I get from the wonderful group of writers I interact with daily; my current work in progress; or the book currently available; the quagmire that is social media or my seemingly stalled attempts at self-promotion? Then I realized, well, I’ve done all that already. Shit.

What’s going on with me you may ask? Even if you didn’t – I’m going to tell you anyway.

My nine year old got braces (1st set, she’ll likely do this again when she’s older and the rest of her adult teeth have come in) and made her First Communion. It’s been a big spring for her. I’m so very proud. And I only want to kill her half time. She’s got early onset tween-a-tude.

The oldest turned twenty (kill me, kill me now); she has a good job and is a good mother. Isn’t much more a parent could ask for, now is there? My grandson is the light of my darkest day. He’s a character and a half. I see so much of my daughter in his personality and yet he is his own little person already at just 13 months.

My four year old soon-to-be stepdaughter’s biggest concern right now is preparing for my wedding. We haven’t even picked a date but she continually presents me with plastic jewelry to wear on the big day. She’s the ring-bearer and she’s taking that quite seriously.

The man is my rock.

I’m trying to finish a young adult short story for an anthology that is due by the end of this month. It is such a departure from what I usually write that I am struggling with it. I have a number of events coming up in June to celebrate my publisher’s anniversary.

Obviously, I define my life by my family and my writing. Which I guess would explain the mother’s day gift I received: an open face locket with the word DREAM inscribed on the back wall and the following charms inside a book, a B and a heart that says grandma.

I’m busy. In love, in life and in fiction. It’s good to be me.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥


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