Be mine – you’ll thank me later

Nothing says I love you like an ultimatum (image from flickr)

Valentines Day is Saturday, just in case you had somehow avoided the seasonal section at the local drug store during the last few weeks. I wouldn’t blame you if you had. Most of the Valentines related merchandise at the store closest to me has already been marked down and moved to the discount rack to make room for Easter.

I had received a notice from my son’s teacher that all students were to bring in Valentines for the class along with a small treat. She was even kind enough to provide a list of names as well as a suggested schedule of how many we should create each night so as not to overwhelm our child. I don’t exactly know where I stand on this issue. Doesn’t the Valentine lose a bit of its sparkle when it is a) mandatory and b) generic? But then again, kiddo is only six. In his book, any assignment that results in candy is a good assignment.

Up until this time, we had made all of our cards for his friends at day care by hand. Some were finger paints. Some were water colors. Some were random pieces of paper glued together in a shape vaguely resembling a heart (why I am not on dozens of Pinterest boards is a mystery). Making individualized cards by hand is easy when there are only four other children at the center with a supervising adult (especially when most can’t read more than their name), but the list his teacher sent home this year contained over twenty names. Gah! Who has time for that?

To my darling boy, if you happen to come across mommy’s writing at some future date and see this post, know that we love you, and are so terribly, terribly proud of you, but watching you write sentences at this age can sometimes be like watching someone trying to go the wrong way on an escalator. You know the person is getting exercise, but it seems to take an unnecessarily long time to reach the destination.

I made the executive decision that we would be purchasing cards this year. All he would have to do is copy each friend’s name from the list on the card. He selected a box featuring several different Hot Wheel’s race car designs and got to work. I would read a name from the list as he scribbled away. As I read the name of one of his best friends, he turned the card over and looked at the image. “Oh, he is going to love this one!” he smiled. A few names later, he flipped the card over again. Only this time he frowned as he said, “she’s not going to like this card.”

Apparently, in my son’s opinion, if it isn’t pink, purple, or has Elsa on the back, the girls in his class just aren’t interested. However, I had no interest in picking up a second pack of cards. It is the thought that counts, right? I told him the girls would have to accept what he gave them. The message must have sunk in, because when the next girl’s name was read he announced proudly that “she was just going to have to get over it.”

Imagine then how guilty then I felt to read a piece in the Washington Post about how the mindset which allows a man to view women as conquests, rather than people, might actually develop in early childhood. In it, the author argues:

“We teach our boys that it’s up to them to be the aggressor, to make a move, to ask her out. We teach our girls to sit and wait and hope for someone to invite them to prom.

Media and pop culture messages tell boys that girls are desirable and weak and emotional. Conversely, they show girls that boys are aggressive and strong and, more often than not, in charge.”

Had I just taught my son that the girls in his class should feel grateful to receive anything at all from him rather than something that actually reflected their interest? That they should automatically enjoy whatever my son dished out because it was what he had picked? I may have to do some damage control.

Then again, what if there are girls in my son’s class who like cars over princesses? What if there are girls who don’t like pink? They might enjoy getting a card featuring a neon green hot rod with blue racing stripes. They might not have to “get over it.” They might actually like getting the card my son will be handing out. We just assumed they wouldn’t because they are five and six-year-old girls. I was mentally separating the genders. The article’s author is right. This practice has to stop for gender equality to take hold. I just wish it was as easy as drawing a heart on a hand made card.

It just goes to show you that Valentines Day is a dangerous holiday. Perhaps next year we’ll celebrate National Ferris Wheel Day instead.

 

We are in this together

One of the greatest benefits of entrepreneurship is the feeling of being completely in charge of your own destiny. You get to make the decisions. You are responsible for your business’ success. This feeling is great, as long as things go according to plan. But when have things ever gone according to plan? Employees might get stuck in traffic, or not show. Suppliers might go out of business leaving you scrambling to find an alternate. Customers might decide at the last minute that they would be better of going with the competition. Then, being in charge is stressful. It is up to you to make sure your company does what it promises it will do, delivers what and when it says it will.

Together we can do this
image from wikipedia

For that reason, I was okay when the hubby announced he was going to have to work late, hoping to close a deal more than two years in the making. We are a team. I would solo parent for the evening so that he could do what he had to do. It was no problem. Except for one thing. I had completely forgotten about it, and was then utterly mentally unprepared.

I collected the boys as I typically do. 6 has recently discovered Pixar’s Wall-E and decided that the balance of the car ride home was the perfect opportunity to hone his robot impression. He’s pretty good, but I feel he really nailed it on the second try. He certainly didn’t need the twenty something follow-up attempts. Why mess with perfection?

When I arrived at day care to pick up 3 (yes, 3 – we are finally out of the terrible twos!), I was informed that my son hadn’t been feeling like his chipper self that day. He was complaining of a tummy ache. My gut clenched up. I have a number of meetings with visitors in my office this week. Of course he would be coming down with something.

I saw the empty spot where my husband parks. Oh no. That was tonight?! Suddenly I felt very much alone.

6 decided he didn’t feel like bringing in his school things. 3 didn’t feel like eating. 6 insisted on playing with a loud helicopter toy next to the phone while I attempted to talk to their dad. 3 didn’t want to go upstairs for his bath, wear the pajamas I had picked out, or pretty much anything at all that he hadn’t first instigated (oh that’s right… we are in the trying threes).

The next morning, the hubby needed to sleep in. He hadn’t gotten home until well into the morning hours. I was going to be on my own… again. I rushed around the house trying to get both boys ready as quietly, but as quickly as possible. We are going to miss the bus! ¡Ándale! Mach Schnell! (English wasn’t getting through to my boys – I had to mix it up). Ugh, I thought, no time to pack a lunch for myself. I was going to be late. What a way to start my day…

As I frantically herded them through the door, 6 asked me, ‘Mom? Why are you so mad?’

The question stopped me in my tracks. Was I stressed? Absolutely. Did I need to be? Absolutely not. If I would have stopped focusing on all the reasons I should be stressed I might have noticed that 6 had helped pack his bag that morning. 3 had willingly worn everything I brought him and had tip-toed so as not to wake daddy. Both had helped put their dishes in the machine after breakfast. They were pitching in as they were able. They reminded me that while I might be the only parent awake, I wasn’t alone. We were in this together.

So what if I was a few minutes late, or didn’t have a packed lunch? We’d somehow survive, but I might never get this moment back.

The past and the future can be equally blinding. When you fixate on either, you risk failing to see what you need to do in the present. I stopped. I took a breath. I told my boys I wasn’t mad along with a thank you. They might think I was thanking them for their help, but I was really thanking them for the reminder to be mindful of the present. When I told them I loved them, they smiled and hugged me back. For that moment, it was enough.

mindfulness
image from flickr

 

Who wants some candy?

The hubby and I recently joined a new gym having accidentally forgotten to forget to go on the scale after Thanksgiving. As part of our enrollment we were given the opportunity to meet with a trainer for our free personal fitness assessment / training plan. These meetings are much like the mandatory ‘information sessions’ you are forced to attend whenever you take advantage of a resort/timeshare’s ‘free’ vacation weekend. At my day job we call these meetings “sales calls”. The only difference is the prospect is coming to you and not the other way around.

Knowing what I was getting ready to go into, I decided not to eat anything the day of my fitness assessment (because that extra pound was definitely going to make the world of difference in my BMI). Unfortunately, I am like the Incredible Hulk when I am hungry. You wouldn’t like me when I am hungry.

I arrived at my appointment armed with a basic guesstimate as to what my results would be, as my insurance premiums are directly tied to periodic health assessments. I knew I had put on a few pounds, but who hadn’t? It was the middle of the holiday season! Biff, my assigned trainer (okay that’s a fake name, but it fits), met me in the lobby and took me for a quick tour around the various implements of self-inflicted torture equipment. I then was asked to stand on something that looked like an old transporter from the original Star Trek (only with handles). LEDs flashed. Assessing… assessing… wow lady you are out of shape – I am sure glad Biff is here to help you out!

Hungry Allie no like smug Biff. Hungry Allie think transporter full of [censored]. Hungry Allie smash transporter.

From the 1978 The Incredible Hulk episode &quo...
I kept my shirt on, but you get the basic idea (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Later (when my blood sugar had returned to normal) I realized I had a problem. My next insurance assessment was in January and I had been borderline for higher premiums before Thanksgiving. So I did what any person would do in my situation. I dusted off my fitbit and my myfitnesspal login, declared an embargo on sugar (except in my coffee – because me before drinking my coffee is almost as bad as me when I am hungry), cut out gluten, and limited my daily carbs to 100g. DEFCON 4!

By the time my insurance assessment came I had passed on two birthday cakes, pizza, donuts, two non-birthday cakes, and a stack of cookies. (It’s now clear as to why I put on a few). I had gritted my teeth and gone to the gym instead. All the free goodies were tempting, but the desire to prove that judgmental transporter wrong was stronger (I don’t blame Biff. He is obviously paired with a cruel and defective piece of machinery).

Ultimately, I won this particular battle. (In your electronic face, transporter!) I may still borderline, but thanks to my hard work and sacrifice, I managed to stay in my insurance group. I earned my right to celebrate. During my victory lap, one of my colleagues congratulated me and offered me some candy from her stash.

I found myself hesitating. Why? My goal was achieved. I didn’t have to hold back from the sweets any longer. I wouldn’t be cheating on myself by enjoying a little snack, and yet I found that I almost didn’t want it. That first easy snack to cross my way just didn’t seem a worthy reflection of my effort.

Part of me didn’t want my goal to end. I had achieved what I set out to do, but I knew I could be so much better if I just kept working.

This image was selected as a picture of the we...
Small rewards add up (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had to then recognize that my ‘better’ didn’t have a deadline associated with it. It was a vision, but not a goal. Sure I have a number in mind, but no good plan to get there. I could keep doing what I had been doing, but that was a knee jerk response to an immediate problem. It isn’t a sustainable lifestyle change (at least not for me). I know I would eventually fail. Even worse, I would miss out on the small rewards I could have enjoyed along the way.

As most writers will tell you, there comes a point when you have to hit the submit button on your manuscript (or otherwise show your work to the world). Could you have written (or executed) it better? If your answer is “umm…maybe” and not a solid “yes,” move on and do so with the next one. I have my vision. It is time to set a new supporting goal and execute on it. I celebrated my small win.

Yes – I ate that chocolate (it really was the polite thing to do), and the next day I hit the gym again. When the next cake comes around, I will be ready. On to the next goal.

My top secret 2014 performance review

It’s that time of year again. Time for me to sit down and analyze the performance of staff at the day job in painstaking detail. I look forward to the process as eagerly as they do. Who doesn’t love to see in writing the ways in which their work can improve even if the words are no real surprise? I know I sure do when it’s my turn. That’s totally why I’ve been having a virtual argument debate with my editor’s notes over the last several weeks.

One of the biggest upsides about being an independent author is the ability to be in control of everything (except forcing people to buy your book). I’ve often heard it compared to going into business for one’s self. We are the authorpreneurs! YAY!

So, if this is truly a business and not just a hobby, perhaps it is time to schedule a performance review with my staff.

Please come in Allie.  Would you shut the door and have a seat?

Now, I’ve been looking at your annual report and while you’ve done a great job gaining additional exposure on WordPress when comparing 2013 to 2014, but you haven’t pulled in nearly the numbers as some of your counterparts at other firms. Why do you think that is?

Hmmm…. Likely it is because I am terrible at writing eye-catching titles.

How can you improve this?

Phone a friend? No? Well then maybe I will start trying out some of the hundreds of catchy title formulas out there in 2015 and see how that works out for me.

Well that can’t hurt. Seriously, your titles have been atrocious at times. I mean ‘Is that a fire hydrant or a really odd garden gnome?‘ Really?

Umm… we agree, that wasn’t my best work. In my defense, I had spent on my creativity on content that day. The tank was dry.

What about social media? What are you doing to improve your exposure in that area?

I’m actually advertising my blog less on Twitter, and interacting more. I told myself that for every tweet I send out, I would find at least four by others to favorite, retweet, or reply to.  I’ve made some really enjoyable connections and now I barely pay attention to my follower count, and yet on the occasions I do, I see it continues to grow.

How about Facebook?

Facebook doesn’t always show my updates in feeds, even if a person has liked my page. There is little I can do there except hope that the handful of people who actually see my updates feel like sharing them with their network. Therefore I don’t see myself spending more energy there than I already have been.

Looking over your other marketing efforts, I see that you tried out a number of things early in the year like paid ads, a Goodreads giveaway, and review exchanges, but your efforts dropped off mid year. Are you planning on trying any of these things again this year?

I ran a second Goodreads give away toward the end of the year when An Uncertain Faith was re-released as well as a free promotion of the book. I used paid ads at the beginning of the year and didn’t use paid ads at the end. Interestingly enough I received an almost identical number of entries in the Goodreads give away each time with about as many resulting reviews. So no, I don’t think I will be using paid ads again.

What about the review exchanges?

I learned that review exchanges are not for me. I’d rather my book was reviewed by someone who was interested enough in my blurb or my blog to pick it up rather than someone who is just reviewing it because they feel obligated to.  I worry too much that my book might get lampooned or insincerely praised just because of how I liked theirs. It feels like being in an old Western gun duel. I am however making a point of reviewing the books that I’ve picked out of my own free will more often.

Let’s address the elephant in the room. You know that the best way to be successful in this business is to release more books. Why then is your second project taking so long to release?

I could blame it on a number of things. My day job changed mid-year. I had to make significant changes to the structure, etc. But I boils down to one thing. I forgot how to properly manage my time. I’ve already taken major steps to address this. Now I only have a few chapters left to rewrite before it can be sent out for another round of complaints critique. I’ve also entered a few short story contests. Hopefully as a result I will have something else out there with my name on it in 2015.

Do you have any questions for me?

Will I be getting a raise this year?

You didn’t tell me you dabbled in writing humor.

Is that a no?

Good luck with the contests.

Mock report card
All type and no play make Allie an out of shape girl

 

 

 

Villany close to home

My little lord tyrant, also known as my toddler (2), is nearing the end of his terrible twos. This would excite me beyond belief if it were not for the fact that prior experience has taught me the threes are even more trying.

As he sat in his booster seat at the table the other day considering whether or not food would look better either smeared in his hair or on the floor (because in his tummy is definitely not where it belongs), the hubby and I sought ways to distract him. We asked him what he wanted for his big day.

I wasn’t really expecting an articulate response. He is still two after all, and he did quite well for himself during the holiday season, but I was expecting him to say “planes,” or “monkeys,” or even “dinosaurs!” all of which are his reigning favorites. Instead he answered, “parties.”

My elder son, 6, was flabbergasted. Did his younger brother really just turn down presents? Surely his brother didn’t mean what he had just said. He obviously did not understand the question properly. He looked at 2 and offered multiple alternative suggestions. Don’t you want this? Don’t you want that? He was nearly begging his brother to suggest something, anything, that could be picked up from the store. 2 listened attentively. His brother was talking directly to him and as far as he is concerned his elder brother is a rock star.

You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Finally, after deciding that his food looked best squished into a paste on top of his place mat, 2 answered, “I don think so…”

Could it be that my youngest has already figured out that shared experiences are so much better than physical things? Could he, at 2, already be on the path toward a zen like state of happy acceptance? As both the hubby and I are flirting with minimalism, we were so proud.

But then I brought this story up to a few who also know his little lord majesty. They suggested a chilling alternative. What if 2 had already devised that “Party” typically means multiple presents? He did ask for parties. Plural. What if he really understood what the word meant? Why settle for a short list when you can have it all! My son could be playing a much bigger game.

Stewie Griffin
Stewie Griffin (Photo credit: Wikipedia) a character obviously based on my toddler

If that is the case, if his request was thought out, then there is a level of evil genius behind those adorable blue eyes that should frighten me to my core.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city, He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself. He only plans.”

Sir Arthur Doyle wrote those words to describe Dr. Moriarty, but Sherlock Holmes could easily be describing my second born.

It’s a good thing then for my son’s sake, that I’ve always enjoyed a well developed villain (or anti-hero) whether it be in a book or on the screen. I like to better understand their motivations. To me, there is something awe inspiring about seeing their plan unfurl after they have lead the “good guys” on a merry goose chase. I enjoy them because I believe that by examining our darker motivations on the page or screen we actually are inspired to be better people in our daily lives.

Recently, I decided to cut back on my regular posting in order to finish up rewrites on my current novel project. The year is only a couple weeks old and I’ve made more progress in these few days than I have over the last several weeks. I’m don’t believe I am giving away too much to say that it features a character who eventually could be described as a villain, but is far from considering herself as one. You may not particularly like her, but if I’ve done my job, at least you will start to understand her.

But what about the villains out there who aren’t fictitious? Does my fascination with the anti-hero mean that I should feel more compelled to understand their backstory? Should I care about their motivations when what they have done seems senseless? There is an old saying that goes the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions. I truly believe that most people, in their hearts, believe they are good people, doing what is just, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of committing the most atrocious acts. This is why the end result matters as much as the person or persons committing the act. I might sympathize with a person’s plight, but some ends are never justified by the means. In order to be good, you must also do good.

Perhaps I need to work on being more understanding or forgiving. Perhaps the world needs to get a little less crazy.

Until then, I continue to only celebrate the villains on the page, the real-life heroes, and maybe a certain soon to be three year old’s big day.

Je suis Charlie!