The Extraction List may not be that far off

We’d like to think that The Extraction List could never happen, but that may not necessarily be true.
Recently I was reading an article in Parents Magazine that, quite honestly, terrified me. In an age where we’ve decided everything from what we had for breakfast to a traumatic disease diagnosis is everyone else’s business, it seems there’s a new way that we can butt into other people’s lives. It was talking about the new, trendy practice of being a “parental vigilante.” Basically, instead of talking to each other like adult-type people, people are calling the police on each other if they see someone making what they would consider a parenting mistake. In the article, many a mother made a split second decision and found a police officer knocking on her door as a result. Of course, there are definitely situations where the police should be called, but as a society, do we really want to, for example, risk a child being separated from his/her mother because she left him in a car for fifteen seconds to put her cart away at the grocery store? Because yes, sending the kid into a broken foster care system is soooo much better (read thick sarcasm here) than him being in his car seat well within his parent’s sightline for a couple seconds. As I said, of course there’s a line where it’s appropriate to call the police, but how hard would it have been to just keep an eye out and let the parent be on her way? There has to be some balance. No one likes to think that there are children out there being abused, and we know that some children do need our help. But can we all agree to sprinkle a little sense into the situation and not make it worse?
What about you? Have you ever experienced a parental vigilante? Or have you been the vigilante? What made you decide to act? Would love to hear from both!

Writing While Pregnant- A Musing of Watermelon-like Proportions

I figured writing while pregnant would be a little different. Of course typing with a numb hand (baby decided to settle on a nerve) has proven to be difficult. Trying to find a position to type in that doesn’t kill my shoulder hasn’t been a picnic either (again, baby curled up right on top of a nerve). But there have been some other things I’ve noticed that I didn’t expect.

  1. I’ll find myself typing away when suddenly the fantasy of me yelling at the last person to ask me if I was sure I wasn’t having twins will pop into my head, followed by an ultimately unfulfilled promise to myself that the next person to do so will get punched in the throat. Maybe my characters will end up with more pent up aggression as a result. I guess we will see in book four.
  2. As I’m sitting here writing this, I have been pulled away at least 3 times by the adorable yet manipulative faces of our two dogs. I believe I have shared their pictures before, but just in case:DSC01918

untitled Now don’t judge me, dear readers. you know you would have a hard time resisting those precious little faces too. But I’m realizing that if I can’t learn to say no to my fur babies, I’m going to have just as hard a time saying no to my human baby. Probably more so, because eventually she will be able to talk back. The time to take control back is now, before my computer is covered with finger paint and my characters are forever stuck in rough draft limbo. If I’m going to be the best mother I can be, I need to be the best person I can be, and that involves creating worlds and stories. So while I do it for myself, I also do it for them.

I’m sure I’ll think of more little tidbits, dear readers, but for now, I leave you with a question. How have your children affected your writing, routine, content, or otherwise?

The Little Pieces

Last night, my fantastic husband took me to see my absolute favorite movie of all time: Jurassic Park (the 3D version is EPIC by the way). It was the movie that made me love movies, and the movie I have hands down watched more than any other. Seeing it again made me realize that there is always going to be a little part of me that still wants to dig up dinosaurs. Though most of me wants to be a writer, the nine-year-old-wide-eyed kid that is still in here wonders what it would be like to, with brush in hand, unearth something piece by piece that existed millions of years ago. The magic of that movie will never be gone for me, and I can’t wait to have our kids watch it some day (and, I’ll confess, there will never be a time where I don’t tear up just a little when they see the brachiosaurus for the first time…call me corny, I can take it…the score is unbelievable!). So my question to you, dear reader, is what does your inner nine-year-old still want to be? Are you the accountant who would love to go into space? Or the interior designer who loves sharks? I want to hear about your little pieces. And for those of you who are writers out there, how do the little pieces help you with your writing?