Category Archives: Memory Lane

We’re off to see the wizard, um, surgeon! At Dell Children’s Hospital!

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Isabella at the Cloisters Museum

Hello, cutie! Mom loves ya!

Our darling Isabella is growing up so fast. She’s nine now, and it’s hard to believe we adopted her just over six years ago. Time flies!

When we adopted her at age 3, her palate had not yet been repaired, though her lip had been repaired in China. (Those of you who are new to my blog may not know that our youngest daughter was born with a cleft lip and palate).

She had her palate repaired at age three and a half. And since then, she’s had two lip revisions (you can barely see the scar now!) and tomorrow she’s having one of the biggies. The docs at the cranio-facial clinic at Dell Children’s Medical center will be taking a bit of bone from her hip tomorrow (Wednesday) to graft into the one place the cleft still remains: her upper gumline. This will give her permanent teeth a place to anchor (and improve her speech even more).

It’s amazing how far she’s come. From not being able to articulate any words at all (it’s impossible without a palate) to being completely understandable (except for the odd word here and there).

She’s such a young lady now … not to mention a trooper! A shame she’s the only kid on the planet who doesn’t like milk shakes, because she’s on a liquid diet for the next two weeks. Ugh!

Here she is just a few months ago. (I stealth recorded in Bloomingdales while her big sister was trying on clothes! She’s a doll … and her speech is great!)

And here she is six years ago before the palate repair (this tape is long; we made it for the speech therapist)

Hugs to my darling Isabella! We love you and we’re so proud of you!

Sister Magic … or not!

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And when they’re good, they’re very good…and when they’re bad they drive mommy nuts!

I’m in a sentimental mood this week because, as I’ll be blogging about more tomorrow, this week is our little Isabella’s bone graft surgery.  As those of you who’ve followed my various blogs over the years know, we adopted Isabella in 2006 right about the time she turned three (she actually got her citizenship on her third birthday when we hit the first port of entry in the U.S.!)

Earlier today, I was helping our oldest daughter, Catherine (now 11) make prototype jewelry for the fifth grade business fair.  Isabella came down wanting to help, and in typical  pre-teen fashion, Catherine sent her away.  Sigh.  (They play well together when they play well … but when they don’t, it’s fireworks.  I was an only child.  I hear this is normal. But dang, it can be trying!)

Anyway, I was doing some computer clean up today and ran across this very old post from before our travel to China.  I thought it was apropos!

Awwwww!

Kids say the sweetest things!

Lately C has taken to playing in the backyard (and independently, too!). Today she was out there until the last possible minute, begging “just five more minutes!” off her dad every five minutes until the sun was disappearing behind the trees. At one point, I decided to go check on her, and found that she’d been plucking flowers and leaves off our various plants. This is a normal state of affairs around our house … D and I are convinced she has a future career in horticulture!

At any rate, we moved her Little Tykes kitchen outside at the beginning of summer, and these bits of plant are usually part of some fabulous new “dish” she’s making, so I asked if she was cooking something. She said no, and very excitedly urged me over to look at what she’d done. A circle of bits of petals, leaves, sticks and more. “What is that?” I asked.

“Magic,” she said. “To bring my sister home faster.”

I swear, I teared up!

I can’t wait to see my two little girls playing together!

Hmmm.  I wonder if I can sprinkle some of that magic dust around for perpetual peace among siblings?  It’s a thought …

Were you an only child or one of several?  Reassure me that the bickering is normal?  Pretty please? 

Haiku to you, too!

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Hippo clip art

Ah, Hippo! You inspire me!

When I was in elementary school, we studied poetry, like most kids do. And we had to write a Haiku, like most kids do.

I still remember mine (prepare to be astounded):

Hippopotamus
Why do you like gooey mud
So brown and sticky?

Catchy, eh?

And on a similarly random note: When my oldest was a baby (as in, doing the baby babble thing), she used to say “Me-no-me”. D and I planned to catch her at that exact moment between babble and words and have her translate for us. We failed.

But to this day we all remember “Me-no-me” … though we don’t know what it means!

How about you? What nuggets from your childhood do you still remember?

Happy Mother’s Day – Adventures in Parenting, Story Ideas, and Fashion Pants!

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Toddler Catherine, decked out in pink

My first kiddo ... all decked out in pink. Maybe that's where it started?

Happy Mother’s Day, all you mom’s out there! This post originally appeared about seven years ago on THE MOMMY BLOG, but I thought it was appropriate for the occasion (with minor tweaks), especially as reading back over it makes me realize how much has happened since I first became a mom (the fact that I now have two kids springs to mind!). Enjoy…and have a great day!

I write books. Lots of books. And I’ve never been short of ideas. It’s the where of the ideas that’s the big question, and one I’m always afraid to examine too closely, lest I see the man behind the curtain and the fantasy comes to a screeching halt. When people ask me (and I get asked a lot!) I usually tell them I get my ideas at Wal-Mart. Cheaper than Nordstrom’s, anyway. And there’s a little bit of everything to choose from.

And I have written all over the board: Superheroes descended from Greek and Roman gods (that whole mythology thing was just a cover story, don’t you know?), a cat determined to marry her master (here’s an update: this one’s being re-released next week! The Cat’s Fancy!), a kick-butt female super-spy mixed up in a James Bondish plot, a Nick & Nora-like couple out to solve a mystery. A woman sucked into a real life version of a computer game, with high stakes consequences: play the game… or die (THE GIVENCHY CODE). And, of course, a Demon Hunting Soccer Mom.

But ask me where I got an idea, and I really couldn’t say. I can give you a vague answer. In some cases, I can talk about how I was brainstorming with friends, and somehow the book finally appeared. But I can’t really pinpoint that actual spark. Honestly, I’m not sure I want to, again for fear that if I look too closely, the spark will fizzle.

Lately, though… Lately I’ve discovered a wealth of book ideas living right here in my house. My daughter, C, all of age three, and brimming over with such imagination that it puts me in awe, and makes me think that coming up with story ideas for twenty some-odd books was really no big thing at all. I mean, if the kid could type, I think she could fill the Library of Congress! (And, yes, I realize that all kids of fabulous imaginations, but she’s my first, so I think I’m entitled to brag and be in awe of the great creative genius that is my child!)

Some of the ideas are so great, there’s gotta be a book in there somewhere. Take chick lit, for example. So many chick lit books have a component in fashion. My daughter, has, apparently, been reading the books on my shelf, because suddenly she won’t wear anything if it’s not “fashion.” (Now, I dress in Old Navy and old t-shirts most of the time—trust me, it looks better than it sounds. So I assure you she’s not getting this from me!). Every morning is a huge ordeal finding clothes to wear to day care because they must be “fashion shirts” and “fashion pants.” Unfortunately (for me, anyway), C’s concept of fashion means that it’s pink. ALL pink. Not pink with white flowers or tiny blue lines or a hint of green stitching. PINK. Needless to say, I do a lot of loads of pink laundry.

But that’s gotta be a book, right? Can’t you just see it? FASHION PANTS, by Julie Kenner. A heartwarming and humorous story about a young woman who has this pair of pink pants and she shares them with her friends, and they’re sort of magic because they fit everyone. And the friends travel around and … oh, wait. That’s been done. Hmmm.

Okay, well, how about this: Angry Superheroes. Yes, you heard right. Why does my daughter like to be an angry superhero? I have absolutely no idea. But she makes the squinty face, and clenches the fists, and goes into the stance, and it’s all my husband and I can do not to totally crack up. (My parents just left, and I think I spent half the visit trying to convince C to “do the angry superhero face for grandma and grandpa!” She never did. Creative, maybe, but not an actress.)

We were at Sea World last week, and during the 8 minute breaks between wave sessions, we played Angry Superheroes Rescue The Good Guys about, oh, five million times. They may be angry, but these superheroes are definitely out to save the world.

That, folks, could be a book. And one day, it just may be…

What are your plans for mom’s day? I’ll be heading out to visit my mom…and bringing flowers. And I’m pretty sure that a “surprise” brunch is in store for me. Can’t wait!

Tattoos and flaws and anorexia, oh my!

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I’m thinking about flaws today. It’s one of the things that I’m having fun with as I go back and look at some of my backlist books. I’m not revising heavily, but it’s fun to be able to fix a few of the flaws that maybe made it through the copyediting/galley process.

But what about other flaws? Physical flaws that you think you just have to live with. Sometimes you do just need to learn to live with them. My chin is crooked, for example (thanks, Grandma). I suppose I could have a plastic surgeon break it and reset it … but no.

My daughter has a scar on her lip and a “smooshed” nose on one side. Despite the fact that she hasn’t really been exposed to much teasing about that (the benefits of homeschooling), she wants it fixed. So she’s having surgery to open up her nose and to once again tweak the scar on her lip. It was her decision, since this surgery is cosmetic, but although she’s eight (and remembers the first lip revision a few years ago), it’s important to her. (And we’re agreeing to have it done this year since she has another surgery scheduled in the fall to do a bone graft.) I don’t think the scar on her lip is a flaw–I think it’s part of her character and I think she’s beautiful. But she’s self-conscious, and considering she’s already self-conscious about her speech (she was born with a cleft palate that wasn’t repaired until she was three and a half) I want to help her address her perceived flaws and raise her self-esteem in any way that I can.

When I was younger, I was overweight, and I was teased for it. (Remember cordoroy pants? Let’s just say that kids like me with thighs like mine shouldn’t wear them and not expect to be teased). It got to be a thing. My dad offered me money for every pound I lost (his heart was in the right place, and fortunately I don’t need therapy). Eventually, the thing turned into anorexia. My life was ruled by food. Or, rather, by the not eating of food and the planning of what little food I would have. Did you know that a frozen bag of green beans boiled and drenched in salsa makes a filling no cal meal?

I got down to about 87 pounds at the end of my junior year in high school. I looked emaciated. (I’m 5 feet 8 inches tall). I was weak. But I’m a Type A personality, and I was determined. And so on and on it went.

College and Karen Carpenter saved my life. Karen Carpenter because her death scared me to death. College, because I was going to school full time and working on a movie at night. I had to have nutrition or else I would have collapsed. And I was the girl in charge of picking up the bread that was donated to the shoot. (The movie was Future Kill, by the way. I blogged about that here!). I would allow myself a bagel. But here’s the thing about anorexia, at least for me. Once you break that barrier you’ve built, it all comes tumbling down.

With me, it tumbled by about 30 pounds in four weeks. I got back up to 120, still thin for me, but infinitely healthier. But I also got stretch marks. Horrible, huge red stretch marks all along my lower back. Painful, nasty and gross.

But I knew that I did it to myself, and in a way they were a badge. I’d been anorexic, but I’d come out the other side. I can’t say that my relationship with food was healthy (it still is something I have to work on), but I wasn’t starving myself anymore.

But I had those damn marks. And had them. And had them.

I got pregnant many years later, and didn’t get one stretch mark on my belly. Yay! But what did it matter, I had them on my back?

When jeans went up to your waist, this was not a big deal. Fashion now is not for the stretch-mark challenged. And I was buying the highest rise jeans I could.

But recently, I got fed up. I started researching ways to remove stretch marks (nothing sounded like it would work). I talked to plastic surgeons and was told it wouldn’t work well.

Bother, bother.

Then I had an epiphany. I’ve never really wanted a tattoo, though I’ve always thought they looked cool. But what if instead of hiding the stretch marks under my clothes I camouflaged them under art? I researched, and sure enough some folks have done that. I found a great tattoo parlor in Austin and went in to talk to them. The artist explained that the color on the marks might not hold as well, so my idea of an ocean scene was great–we’d use the marks as part of the color distribution.

It took a long time! Two visits of about two hours each, and I don’t recommend your first tattoo be one as big as mine. But it works! You don’t notice the marks anymore…just the art!

And the really cool thing? I was shopping for bathing suits with the kids the other day, and I put back a two piece, thinking I couldn’t wear it. Then I remembered–I have the tat now, for exactly that reason! So I got the thing. I may not have the thighs for a bathing suit, but dang it, I’m happy with my back!

**If you have anorexia, bulimia or another eating disorder, please get help. Don’t keep it hidden. If you suspect a friend or family member has an eating disorder, talk to them about it. And urge them to get help.

So how about you? Got any flaws your working on? Have you found a way to flaunt them rather than hide them?