Adventures From Publishing a Book with Two Small Children
I heard a package being dropped off on the porch, and for some reason I wondered if my books were inside. I saw the box, saw my name on the box, rushed to get scissors, opened it, took the piece of packing cardboard off and there they were- ten glistening copies of Play Like a Girl in the flesh. I got excited. Dan and Simon got curious from the next room, and then mixed up in the emotion of it all, Simon started crying because I was crying and I had to reassure him that I was okay.
“I’m crying because I’m happy, honey.”
Miles started whimpering from the next room because we were all in the kitchen. The milestone moment ended abruptly. The writer in me wanted to scream and do a happy dance and pour a glass of wine and stare at the pages until I could believe it was real. The momma in me tucked it all away so I could comfort my little guys.
Later, after we settled back in to play, I paged through a copy and Simon got curious.
“You wrote this momma?”
“What pen did you use?”
“Where did you write it?”
“Can you say the words to me?”
Then later still, he chose one of the ten copies for himself.
“This is my copy, and this is Dada’s copy, and this is Miles’ copy.”
He paged through his copy slowly. “Are there any mans on the soccer team?”
He came to a page and paused, pointed to a word and said, “This word is beautiful momma.”
I sat with my boys and my book. My momma writer heart swelled. Both roles require delayed gratification but this moment, when I got to be both, was well worth the wait.