A Simple Name and I'm in Tears....

“It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things.”

-Donald Miller

***

We saw so many wonderful people this past week who are excited for us, anxious for us and supporting us. To each of them we want to thank you. For asking, for caring and for listening when we simply stated “We are now waiting to be assigned a social worker…” You each smiled and said you would keep us in your prayers, for that we are forever grateful and now…

A name.

This past week all we have been doing was waiting for a name.

I have not spoken to her yet, I have no idea if she is from the area, if she is southern, if she is older, younger, blonde, brunette, African American, Caucasian, Irish, chatty, quiet…but she is one of the most important keys to the journey in front of us.

Today in my inbox was the name of our Social Worker. This woman will work closely with us throughout the adoption journey. She will be the ‘mediator’ between the birthmothers and us. For lack of a better term, she will sell us to the mother of our child just as she will sell the options of birthmothers to us. She will guide us through more paperwork, through more red tape and will be there when we get tired, when we begin to doubt or worry or fall to anxious thoughts.

This woman has a task before her. If you know me, then you understand; I want to know her. I want to be able to email, text, chat, ask, listen, learn and to make her an extended arm of our new family.

Today I cried. Sitting at my desk, glancing at the small 4 inch screen of my phone I read the words “_R_ is your Social Worker.  She will call you at the beginning of next week.” (She’s out of town this whole week so another 6 days will pass, but the lump that had grown in my stomach as we waited for the announcement of our Social Worker is now gone, replaced by another new acknowledgement.)

Life just got very real.

I thought the last adoption entry was where it all began, but I believe I need to just resign myself to accepting that things will begin and begin and begin and begin, over and over and over. Each day of this journey is new for us. Each layer of the process is something that we have never encountered – we are constantly learning, listening, wondering and praying.

So today, on our sweet dog Snickers’ first birthday we will celebrate the rescue puppy that expanded our hearts and as we love on him tonight our minds will wander to the sweet face that will one day celebrate alongside of us, laughing as we play outside, tossing toys and treats and enjoying the memories, because today we just got another step closer to our child.

What a blessing my Heavenly Father has given me in my earthly father....

• "My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."
  -- Clarence Budington Kelland, U.S. Writer

He continues to do so and I'm blessed to see so much of Heavenly Father in him.

Now more than ever before I look back on parenting, my own parents, my friends parents and my how my siblings parent. In each group I treasure the moments I've been allowed to share with them. As we continue this process to expand our family, to become parents of our children I find that every day brings emotion to my life...worries, excitement, anticipation and delight because of the examples I was given. I pray that God continues to bless our family, that we continue to seek His guidance and that we will always walk in the footsteps he has laid out for us as we begin this new journey. It is days like today that bring me even closer to God...

Today is a day that reminds me of so many moments in my life...days where I curled up next to his side, pressed against him letting my eyes close and my heart rest as he protected me from whatever nightmare slipped in; Christmas mornings curled up on his lap as he helped me break through every plastic barrier, crazy twist tie and annoying cardboard box that was in place around She-RA, Barbie, My Little Pony or the newest Cabbage Patch doll - he would pull out a tool, one filled with mechanisms and simplify the process- amazing me with this single ability to always have the right thing to help me. As I got older the lap seemed to grow smaller so I resigned myself to laying against his side, head on his chest and arm over his belly. His beard has always been scratchy on my cheek and his laughter has always made me grin. 

I always felt he was mine and mine alone, even with 3 siblings, I am the baby so of course he's mine...but then we would travel...to Omaha to see family, stopping in Kansas or Oklahoma - a random convenience store for a "mom break" (bathroom of course) and almost every time, all around the country from Any town in Bama to Orlando to Omaha to St. Louis to Okoboji to Denver we would run into someone who knew him...yes knew my father. It would baffle all of us and in time be a trait that taught me so much. These people were glad to see him, they would run over, slap him on the back and reminisce about whatever "last time" together they shared. He always met them with a smile, a handshake and a simple how is your family? He always remembered their name, their loved ones and some detail about their life that automatically took a chance meeting of a acquaintance into the realm of finding an old friend. To this day I'll never forget the kindness he's taught me, the ability to smile even when aggravated about something else, the hospitality he always shows...thanksgivings at our house were full: hunters, state troopers, local cops, game wardens, random travelers...I learned about welcoming your home to those less fortunate, those who may have more than you and to open your heart to all walks of life from puppies, to kittens and beyond. His heart always has room to give and love. He taught me to love how things work, to be curious about mechanical issues, to never let my mind quit wondering "how", "why" and "what can I do to help". He made my sweet Marcus always feel like family, from the first non date dinner to the first real date dinner at home, where a boy sat across from a man and grinned as he was invited to "chew on the bone of a T-bone steak" forever cementing a bond that still brings a smile to my husbands face. I am never afraid when I'm with him, I know he is strong in body, mind and heart. God have me earthly parents who are beyond words, beyond description and beyond measure. I am my best because of them and the love I hold in my heart is strongest because they love me. 

I am grateful for my family, I'm humbled by their love and today I cherish moments beside a mountaintop, hours walking through the woods, weekends along creek beds, rambling on four wheelers, a bearded man sitting cross legged having a tea party with a girl and her dolls, afternoons talking sports, days on end of squishy belly pillows and scratchy chin kisses. He is where my broad shoulders come from - strong enough to carry my future children, where my stubbornness joins the same gift from mom making me ambitious and annoying at times, He is where I get my love of animals, my desire to help and my compassionate heart. He is my first hero, the one who taught me to hug with all my might and the man I looked for in the man I married - I treasure the phrase "sometimes you marry someone just like your father" and the man my own husband continues to treasure as another father in this great life. I thank you Heavenly Father for supplying me with an example of your love in all the earthly ways possible, He is exactly who I need and who I know my own children will love for all the same reasons and then some...I love you daddy...

Happy Fathers Day! 

Our Adoption Journey Stage 2: Value

“The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.” - Morrie Schwartz

You all learned from my TMI post the other week what path led us to this decision, but I am learning that this decision & process has many stages each more important than the last…

Ever been asked the uncomfortable questions? You know the ones:

“How long have y’all been dating? And you still aren’t engaged?” (yeah…I can thank a certain Teacher/coach from high school for my husband’s 10 year courtship…still cracks me up)

“oh, you just got married! Have you talked about having kids?”

“I heard that you two are having some issues conceiving…was it drugs? I hear those can truly hinder fertility.” (still a favorite of mine by the way – that question actually had me laughing out loud)

“So. Was it him? Slow swimmers? You? Hostile environment...down there? – I hear both can be contributing factors.” (the laughter continued)

It really is amazing the questions casually asked in simple conversation. As a teen I thought it was the gossip patrol, the nosy, the only way to hear the good rumors – some true, some not. Then into my early twenties it was ‘background information’. It was helping that girlfriend or guyfriend discover the pertinent information about the person they were dating.  Yeah, lists were made, items were checked off and break ups occurred. Now in this immediate age of split second technology information is gathered, sifted and re-transmitted before I can finish typing this sentence. It’s not all bad. It’s not all gathered intel to embarrass, exploit or scandalize the lives we are all leading. My heart of hearts reminds me that getting to know one another, seeing that we are not alone, that others experience the drama, turmoil, joy, happiness…these things help us. They move us forward towards the next stages we must face. If ever you inquired about us and we weren't quick to give a lot of details, or my face took on the defensive reaction, or I let a snarky remark escape my lips - I apologize. It may happen again, for that I am almost positive, but again I will ask for your patience and forgiveness. I know you care and now more than ever we are looking for support, for guidance and for the sweet friend who is asking & walks away, mentally adding our tiny family to their prayer list - what a blessing to have people who genuinely wish us well. You took an interest, showed us love and often continued to do so even when we did not know it. You see, I never thought the invasive questions I’ve asked others, questions I’ve been asked and situations where I’m at a loss for words would be stepping stones, preparation for Stage 2 in our adoption process…yet they are.

We sat at a computer last week, scrolling through page after page of questions; each one growing with intimacy and invasion. M was overwhelmed by some of the Prospective Father inquiries. We made lists of the ones we needed to return to and I typed carefully the answers we had at the ready. Each question builds a more personal, intimate scrutiny; the internal reaction of being judged is there – how we answer these questions, how we reply to their interest in us makes us cautious – no one likes to be judged. We aren’t even supposed to judge, but the natural reaction is more often...judgment.  We feel defensive, we feel a little violated and more than often we scrunch up our faces and wonder “why do they need to know that?”

Some of them were easy, just vital information, but others…the financials, the personal story questions, the questions on your faith…these tested us…then you get to your desired child section – the list is beyond long, the situations they place: alcohol during 1^st trimester, 2^nd trimester, cocaine, heroin, LSD usage, rape victim…then the medical options…then the family histories…it can break you in two just to realize that all of these are necessary sections to review and consider. My heart ached for these young women, they made choices – I know that – but I wonder sometimes if love had been handed to them in the simplest form of ‘interest’ in their life would they be where they are??? Was interest given without love? Were the nosiest, the ones who miserably seek to ruin your day because they are lost too, the only ones who spoke to these women?

The birth mother ministry of our adoption process has been the hardest to wrap our heads around…until this part of the questions. These women have made the most questionable decisions…until now. Because now I see it differently: They are choosing life. To give life to what they may deem a mistake, a bad night, a drunken stupor, a tragic act of rape or any other of the many situations listed...they are choosing to let these children live a life with love. In that second, in that moment, my heart swelled for the woman who is carrying/will be carrying our child. She is strong. She may have had a moment of weakness, she may have been a victim, she may have chosen to turn down a dark path once, but the light that has led her to this act…it shines so bright that the shadows fall away completely. I also realized I love her. I don’t love her just because she is giving me a gift I cannot fulfill alone but because she deserves my love and to not give it would be a travesty to my faith and terrible example for our child. It’s the heart that matters in the end and she will open hers to us.

So Stage 2 has been checked off our list, it has been sent to be reviewed and looked over – not to be judged but to be accepted. We have value, she has value and the sweet, innocent heart of our child is valued as well. So all these questions, these invasive lists are the pieces that begin to build the house that we are preparing for this beautiful child of ours and the stability that she will see when she releases her ‘mistake, her drunken stupor, tragic act of rape…” and she receives the love that we will shower upon her. We must accept her, bringing praise to God all the while knowing that God values her. He sees beyond the moments that found her broken, to Him she is perfect and He sees her beautifully fulfilling His plan. He loves her, so do we…“No matter what you’ve been through, your value has not changed since the day you were born.  You’re valuable to God!”  - Pastor Layne Schranz, Church of the Highlands; Message Series: The Book of James

It's an Honor to be Free....

"They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this Nation."

-Henry Ward Beecher

Men and women for over 238 years have lived and died to give me the ability to have a public blog where I can share my life, my dreams, my aggravations, my political viewpoint and my opinion about which salad dressing I love the most. As silly as that may seem, that right, that ability is something someone died for.

I am grateful for that sacrifice. I am humbled by its necessity. I am saddened by its sheer number of lives lost.

This weekend I will have sunned at the pool, eaten whatever I wanted, listened to my favorite music, read magazines with public opinion, watched television that showcases more than one political view, laughed with my family, enjoyed my dogs and lived in a house of my choosing. All because of sacrifice - not mine, but sacrifice of people unknown to me. They gave their life so that I could have mine.

I have had military scattered throughout my family. My oldest brother was Air Force and still serves with the Guard. He often has to leave for sporadic periods of time and most recently did a year in Cuba. He is a man of simple pleasures - he loves to fish, to hunt, to eat, to come home to his two newest granddaughters and to relax with family. He has traveled the world, seeing other countries, seeing people who do not have the luxuries we have, knowing that his life - this dedication he chose - continues to allow his family to enjoy the meaning of freedom. He does not agree with everything our government decides to do, but it is because of the sacrifices before him, the sacrifices he has witnessed and those yet to come that he is able to disagree as openly as he chooses, why he continues to do his duty and how I will never fully grasp the things he has seen or endured. He has lost friends - no he has lost family - to the cause to keep us free and he still goes when asked, still performs when needed, still rallies for a country that often forgets who to thank and who to recognize for providing the liberty we all enjoy.

I cannot thank him enough. He is my brother, he is my hero and he is a soldier who sleeps on a hard ground, who endued sand covered months in the Middle East, sat on the shores of our enemy in Cuba, has trained in Germany, worked on our borders with Mexico, and watched as those he loves paid the ultimate price for him, for me, for those yet to be born.

"For love of country they accepted death, and thus resolved all doubts, and made immortal their patriotism and their virtue."

-James A Garfield

My life is better because someone else decided to risk their own.
My dreams can be reached because someone decided that their dream is to allow me to discover mine.
My ideas can be voiced because someone else fought and their voice was silenced.
My courage to write these words pales in comparison to the courage they showed on the battlefield.
My sacrifices seem great to me but only because the ultimate price has been paid by those with the foresight to believe that there is something greater, something unique, something worth dying for that may not yet have reached the surface, but their belief, their honor, their love for the 'could be' allows us to be unconditionally grateful to their cause.

I am honored to be an American.
I am blessed to be free.
I am grateful to those who died for me.
I am humbled by their unselfishness.
I am moved by their determination.
I am stunned by their dedication.
I am sorry for their family's loss.

To the many veterans who walk this world: Thank you. Thank you for doing a job that is often thankless, for continuing to believe in a country that often doesn't get it "right" but continues to search for the best possible path. This day we celebrate the lives of the brothers and sisters you lost, we lost, this country lost in order to freely continue to be the greatest country on earth. Even with our problems, people still flock to be here, the American dream may shift but we still get to achieve it and as I watch certain political decisions be made I don't lose faith...because as long as there are people who believe in what we stand for; "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"; then sacrifices will be made and sacrifices will be honored.

Thank you: to the families of those lost, your courage is not unnoticed and the sacrifices of the loved ones you have lost is appreciated by many. It is our duty to continue to work towards the freedom they died for and to honor them daily.

God Bless America and may He continue to do so....

"Who kept the faith and fought the fight; the glory theirs, the duty ours."

-Wallace Bruce

How We Got Here - The TMI Version

“All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.” – Helen Keller

For some of you this will be a story you already know, for others this is pretty intimate & in depth look into the path that led us to this point in our lives….

I never expected this to be the first part of our story…My path has been a tricky one up to this point. Everyone has their trials, God’s plan is full of them, He sees our strengths grow, our characters evolve and our love for the journey expand with every endeavor we face.

I was 14 when I had a vision with God. He sat across from me on the daybed in my parents’ house. He held my hand and spoke with conviction. He told me that I would not bear my own children, that there would be a time where I would have to accept this fully. He also told me I would hate Him. I remember vividly saying “never.”; and Him softly telling me that I would find my way again, not to give up hope when the time came and that He had plans for my future family. I was confused; He had just told me I wouldn’t have a family. But in the hazy dreamlike state I just took it in…He smiled, I smiled and then He was gone. I woke up and told my mom about the dream. Both of us thinking I must have been watching something interesting the day before but neither of us completely discounting the vision; my mother has always been intuitive spiritually so for either of us to have gut feelings, déjà vu or in some ways premonitions was basically normal. However, teenage years and time forced the entire sequence to slip back into the recess of my mind.

I met my lovely Stable Boy “M” when I was 15. We dated through high school, surprising everyone when we continued the relationship through college – never once breaking up, but definitely having our trials laid before us. We persevered and found ourselves marrying at 25 and 26 years old. Enjoying life, loving our blessings and for the first time discussing our future. We both agreed we were way too selfish to have a child at the time and in deciding that we put off for 3 years trying to conceive.

We had been actively trying for 3 months. I was 28. It was July and we were supposed to be heading to his father’s wedding in Texas. I had a yard sale – it was grueling in the heat and thought I had just overdone it when I started cramping. By 2 a.m. that Monday I was in the ER screaming my head off at the pain. Tests, scans, needles, everything was a blur until they told me there was nothing they could do. They called a specialist. She came in and spoke sternly but with reverence – asking me about past menstrual issues, any cramps before, did I know what a cyst was. M sat wide eyed, learning way too much about the female makeup in those 5 minutes than he EVER wanted to. She told me a cyst the size of a football had decided to wrap itself around my left ovary and that she could not see any of my organs due to its mass. She had no idea what she would find, if it was cancerous, if it had damaged organs, if it could be removed without damaging the other ovary; but extensive surgery was the only option…the tears came. By the Friday that we were supposed to fly out I was lying on a bed, waiting for the OR to open up and my anesthesiologist was asking me if I minded if he prayed for me. Crying, I told him, “please do.” He held my hand, he prayed for me and I felt Him again – just as I had 14 years before – that peace, that understanding that He was there and I was no longer afraid. 5 hours later I woke up with 39 staples, a 16 inch incision from my breast bone to my pelvic, the knowledge that my specialist had to remove ALL of my organs that were masked out of my body for a few minutes – creepy - no left ovary and had “birthed” a 4 lb cyst that got me in an article in the Medical Journal – Whoopee! But I was alive. But I was also angry. The memory of that vision/visit from my youth was fresh on my mind and I remember that first week, looking down at the Frankenstein-esque metal and thinking “yep, I hate You right now.” The first weeks of recovery were not at all fun – my sweet sister had to endure my anger, my tears and my frustration. It was a hard recovery, a difficult transition and the best definition of a true trial that I had ever encountered up to that point.

I had hope that the single ovary on my right side could be fine for conception. Checkups were many, follow-ups and blood work became words I truly despised, but the overall goal was to have a baby in the end. We had to wait around 6 months before truly trying to conceive again. The right ovary took its time getting back to rights. We tried, and tried and tried. Then we took a break – we decided to not drive ourselves nuts so we gave it all to God. 2009 passed, then 2010, and then in 2011 I realized that there seemed to still be some issues. After speaking with my OB/GYN (the specialist God sent me when I lost the first ovary had graciously become my doctor and I had become her most interesting patient) we decided to do a D&C. So there I went, into another operating room for a standard procedure that women have every day. It was at the middle of November, my doctor sent off her sample and Thanksgiving was upon us. When you go to Camden, more specifically to my parents, it means you are agreeing to no cell service for the holiday. I was okay with that. J

However, my doctor was trying to find me. Desperately. She left me no less than 8 messages. When we returned the Sunday after the holiday I was beyond curious as to what was going on. Stupidly, I did not call her back until Wednesday. She told me to come in immediately, she would work me in. I was nervous, but not scared…not yet.

She sat me down and when she teared up fear crept in. I hadn’t told M to come with me. It was just me and her. She told me that her findings had given her something she suspected – a thickly lined uterus – but there was something else. She found Endometrial Hyperplasia Complex with Atypia Stage 3. That afternoon I not only had an OBGYN but I was scheduled to meet an Oncologist at the Bruno Cancer Center in Birmingham, the following week – the 7^th – the day before M’s birthday. The oncologist would be my second opinion and if the cancerous cells were verified – he would be my cancer doctor.

I remember calling mom – she was calm, but I know she was immediately googling, asking her resident doctor and nurses the minute we hung up. It’s okay, I did the same when I got back home. I cried too. I cried a lot in that small drive home. I cried when I saw M. He held me and said everything was going be okay.

The next month is still at times a blur. The first meeting and pathology confirmed our doctors’ fears. Our Oncologist, Dr. B, wanted to do surgery the following week – I was set up for a hysterectomy with a full lymph node scope (upper thighs and below the breasts) – we asked if we could wait at least until after Christmas. He agreed, he was so torn about removing my remaining ovary – at 30 I would have little to no hormone production and the long term effects made him wary. He said if everything looked good, he would do a partial hysterectomy leaving the ovary…December 28^th – everything wasn’t good. The ovary was enlarged and I woke up in recovery at St. Vincent’s with a Total Hysterectomy. The idea of conception had already left me 21 days earlier, but now Menopause loomed at 30 and reality swept in.  It was 7 days post surgery when I got the good news – they had removed all the cancer and I would not need radiation therapy. Life was blissful in those seconds. The recovery was another hit to my system and the following year brought all kinds of new bodily changes.

M was beyond amazing through everything. We had a discussion that day after confirming the cancer cells in Birmingham and that first initial meeting at the cancer center. I told him I understood if he wanted out – if he wanted the opportunity to have children with someone I would never hold it against him. I cried, begged him to think it through and my loving husband sat in front of me at The Tavern, held my hand and shook his head. He was in this from the beginning because he loves me, he had no intention of leaving me and that no matter what we would make it through this and God would be there for us every step of the way. I’ve loved him since I was 16 but in that moment I saw love for the first time; it was all over his face, in the way he held my hand and in the look he continued to give me as we ate. Then the surgery came, recovery came, crazy swings of menopause, insomnia, neuropathy and the idiosyncrasies of Courtney engulfed our life.  He still smiled, still held my hand and I still saw that look of utter love – he amazes me every day and I am so thankful for his strength. We are a team. Marriage is not something that just easily happens, you build it, you work on it daily and you make it the most important portion of who you are. I am grateful every day that God saw us way before we saw each other and that He continues to guide us daily.

During all of this, during all the years since 2008 life was still circling all around us, we welcomed Kristin “The Duchess” (M’s niece) into our home and got a good taste of parenting a teenager. She has been a blessing in our life and we love her so much. She came to us in 2010 and we have enjoyed watching her go from 16 year old young girl to the 20 year old woman she is today. Her journey is just beginning and she is holding her own. We know that had we been able to conceive in 2008 that we would not have been able to take The Duchess into our home in 2010.

It all circles back to that first vision, first discussion with God. He knew the path in front of us, he knew that the Duchess was in our future, that we would need to have open hearts for different paths and Heknew that we would face our trials head on, accepting life with each passing day. He had more faith in me than I had in Him at the time. Now when I look back at the moments His presence filled me: 4 surgeries (laparotomy, D&C, hysterectomy & a random appendectomy), each recovery, sitting in the Bruno cancer center waiting for my oncologist to tell me “I rarely ever get to tell my patients this news: you are now cancer free.” and the moment I woke up in January of this year, on a Sunday, lying in bed, overcome with the deepest, strongest yearning to see M as a dad, to hear the word ‘mom’ and know it was meant for me, and to see the laughter in our child’s eyes as they run in the yard with the dogs...and on that morning 19 years ago after spending all night talking…He fills me. He surrounds me daily, blesses me always, loves me unconditionally and reminds me often that this life is not an easy one but it is worth every moment…thankfully I don’t think He will make me wait seventy years….

"For thus says the LORD, 'When seventy years have been completed for Babylon, I will visit you and fulfill My good word to you, to bring you back to this place. 11'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. 12'Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you.…” Jeremiah 29:11

Updates + a Big Family Announcement

Hey Everybody! *waves frantically*

It is definitely been too long, too much time, too much happening around here for me to have slipped away since…well…since a little while ago.

SOOOO many things going on around here.

We’ll start right about:

The Duchess is home for the summer – searching desperately for a summer job. She is definitely excited that classes are over, I just hope she realizes that this next year will be even more important than the last. The pressure will continue and intensify as her college career grows.

The King (aka Stable Boy) has been working his tail off (literally). He’s gotten dedicated to daily gym trips, cleaning up our garage (which honestly is like some crazy Hydra – clean one area and another messy one appears times two…) and staying busy with his dayjob. He works in construction so warmer weather means more jobs – always a good thing.

The furbaby Prince’s are precious as ever. Snickers is creeping up on his 1^st birthday and Peanut Butter is still crossing his fingers that his little brother is temporary…sorry Nutter.

I’m working on more art and more writing. I entered an art show in my home town and pleasantly surprised myself by placing – it truly is an honor. It was quite nerve wracking. It’s been since High School that my hometown has seen any of my art…these people have known me since I first grabbed a sketchpad and they are always there for me, they are important to me. I never want to let them down or fail them – they are family. The judge however is from another state – no connection whatsoever and is a highly accomplished artist – the fact that he loved it enough to award me second place…makes him a new favorite of mine ;o)

Oh and one more thing…..

WE ARE ADOPTING!!!!!!!!

Yep. We are. We are in the VERY beginning stage of applications, scheduling home studies and getting sooo excited about this step in our lives. It is only through the blessings of God that we are able to begin this process and it will only be through Him that we will see this process through. I cannot begin to express our excitement….There is so much to share and I plan on doing that ASAP! Look for my next entry to share our story of the whys? The with who? The process.

Please keep us in your thoughts, your prayers and send the best possible love to the universe…

 

My Writing Process & A cute dog with elbow patches....

Hey Guys! Wow it is already April, where is this year going? I have been crazy busy lately and it’s a wonderful thing. I am so excited to take the time to participate in the “My Writing Process” Blog Tour. The lovely and fabulous Kim Chance  happened to tag me and well I cannot say no to her! She is a critique partner of mine (though I know she is probably wondering where some recent chapters are from me…ahem *ducks head*) and she is fantastic. You can find her on Twitter here: @_KimChance 

So here we go, are you ready for the crazy?

Question 1: What are you working on?

I am working on the current love of my keyboards’ life. Yes, the love affair between it and my novel is something to be seen…although they have a few differences that cause me to occasionally leave them to their deep discussions, they are of late, getting along swimmingly.

My novel is a YA supernatural, romantic, adventure full of secrets and “buckets of crazy” danger - yes, buckets!!! 

My MC is Andrea. She is a straight-laced senior who lost her parents and is trying to move on with her life, i.e. go to college and leave the small, southern town of Barbours way in the distance. She's on the right track too; great grades, good friends and the good sense that the town she was raised in isn't quite normal. You know how that goes, make plans to move on and what happens to a girl? She meets a boy. Insert snarky banter here - well at least she's pretty snarky in her head, southern etiquette keeps her from losing her cool completely and who would want to be rude to this boy...A boy with silver eyes and he just so happens to have the same voice that has been plaguing her dreams. One car ride and the next thing we know she's facing her past, her present and a very uncertain future. Did I mention a river of deadly caramel & mysterious star tattoos? No? Ah, well you will just have to see...

I am much like my friend Kim, blurbs are quite intimidating and sharing even the tiniest things on a public forum about a WIP/Novel that is quite possibly your lifeblood at the moment is hard. So aside from the above description I will offer y'all this:

 Andrea is eighteen, trying to move on after her parents death, go to college and discover the perfect career. She never dreamed that in less than twenty four hours her whole world would be unhinged. Small towns are weird, but nothing touches Barbours; people come but they rarely leave.It is perfectly Southern on the surface but its what lies within its beginning that will alter the future of the universe. In one afternoon Andrea finds herself facing a mortal enemy and being marked by a mysterious star tattoo that just might be the key to her entire existence. Running from her fate is not an option but what she does with the knowledge of her past and her powers just might help her get beyond the town line to something much greater than she ever imagined.

whew...there is so much I want to edit, to change, to add, to delete...mental craziness begins in 3...2...1

okay, Question #2: How does your work differ from others in its genre?

That might be the most intriguing question on the list.

Okay, I have to agree with the lovely Kim... Voice. My internal dialogue when I'm writing is more creative and confident on its feet. Sometimes I wish I could reply the way my characters do...it'd make my days REALLY fun.

Question 3: Why do you write what you do?

This question I love. I write what I would love to read. I write because these people, these characters live inside my head. I hear their arguments, their troubles, their happy times...They are as real to me as most anyone I speak to, if not to say I don't talk outloud to them in public...well not all the time. ;o) I love reading. I love the thrill of a new book and the sad, disjointed feeling when I know the characters are done. When I write I don't have to let go of them in the same manner...They get to stick with me, watching new characters emerge and being spectators along with me. I still read YA - all subjects within the genre and I think I love it most because it is such an exciting time in our lives. We are discovering so much about our selves during a time where talents are found and choices are made. I also never feel my age and sometimes think I'm still back there...in those years...only thank goodness I didn't face half of what my characters do...

Question 4: How does your writing process work?

Yeah. I'm a pantser. 

I am a 'sits-down-begins-to-type-mad-woman-style-as-others-run-away-when-i-begin-screaming-at-my-characters' writer. I'm trying to be better at forecasting/outlining. But for me, I just love the organic, free flowing, type it all out writing.. I am at a point in the current work where I'm sitting back and trying to foresee a little more. The world I've created is about to cause me to bring out the post its and break out in hives. You see in my every day life I'm a type A, anal, list making, organization freak - so I think the organic writing is perfect for me. It lets me break out a bit from the tight confines I hold myself to in every other area. Now don't get me wrong, I will meet a writing deadline if need be; but as far as the outline every chapter, post it crazy wall board....nope..although check with me in a month...I fear 3M and I may have to meet up and discuss the loveliness of the neon post it collection.

I also write with music on. I have a Writer's Words Playlist on my iPod that gets me motivated and often inspires a great deal of my scene work.

CPs are the best ever! I have a lovely, small collection of women who are cheerleaders and hardnosed critics. I love them for every minute they take to read my work and share their thoughts. Its a true blessing to know these women & share our dreams together.

Writing is hardwork. It takes a lot out of you emotionally, mentally and really tests your creative communication skills. It brings out sides of you that might never have been discovered and it allows me to step into someone else's shoes for a little while and enjoy the moment...

If I could give any advice it would be "Read, write, read, write.. breathe...read, write... repeat every single day". 

Oh and there are hiccups in my process - the daily life and day job that I currently conform to often tries to pull me away from my computer, but you just keep going back to your work....as I type these words the below interference is happening-NO LIE.

He likes to sit on my chest like a cat...His name is Snickers, he wears sweaters with elbow patches and he hates technology.He's definitely a pantser. His big brother Peanut feels that though technology steals his moms attention it also allows her to order the best toys from Amazon...

well that's it! Thank you so much for swinging by and checking out the Royal Writing Process of one Southern Princess. I hope I made you smile and that maybe just maybe helped you feel not so crazy in your own process. 

XOXO

A simple Dance....

He approaches slowly, each step a hesitation of his decision,
Once beside me he leans down, hand palm up in invitation.
I do not rush to accept, looking at his face, his cerulean eyes and strong jawline.
The smile is unexpected, charming and delightfully crooked when I nod.

Hands clasped he leads me to the dance floor,

With every step I cling to each breath, 

I love the softness of his touch, the warmth of his palm against my own,

Heat fills my cheeks as he turns me to face him. 

We stand among strangers but they disappear,

A hush fills my ears,
His eyes shine, soft light, the moon wishes it could glow like he does.

The need to move my feet is great, I want to glide, to sweep the room,
Instead our first movements are jerky and clumsy,
He sighs, arms stretched out with mine...
The position is uncomfortable, stiff,
Yet we continue to move, our bodies following the pattern taught by so many.

His toes crush mine and he grimaces,
I smile.
He sighs.
Boldly I move closer to him, the confidence coming from within some place new.
I grin at his surprise and delight.
Our feet find comfort in the closeness,
Suddenly we are the center, the point of perfection in the room.
For a second he lets me lead, my touch is strong and selective,

I lean into him, my cheek on his shoulder,
He sighs again, this time I do not smile, I merely close my eyes and listen to the sound.
Simple, fleeting, that one breath tells me so much.

Suddenly he leads me again,
This time his arms circle my waist, confidently leading my hips to the rhythm.
I lose myself in his direction, in the sounds of a love song.
His fingers find my hand and I am spinning, out of his arms then back against his chest.

The air in my lungs fill again, releasing on the second spin.
I am laughing, loud and full.
He chuckles, proud of his new talent and my response.

The chorus dies down and the last verse fills the room,
I'm aware of the ending, the upcoming silence once the song dies down.
I've never felt as anxious as I am in this second.
I do not want the music to end yet I cannot wait to hear his voice above the din,
For him to make me laugh, or better yet for me to make him laugh.

He holds me close, we slow down to barely a sway,
Pulling back I look up at him, he down at me.
The air around me softens, I am aware of nothing but his face.
My fingers lay against his shoulders, carefully feeling the threads of his jacket.

Who knew that I was ready?
Who knew that he would be too?

His lips turn up and the crooked smile that brought me onto the dance floor returns,
Without a word he turns us toward the tables.
I grin, stepping forward with him, leaving the other dancers behind us...