jeanne v. bowerman » Aspiring Mama

I once had an idea.

I get a lot of those.

And many, to be honest, remain as they began: creative itches I can’t seem to find the time to scratch.

But there are others that become more. These are the ideas that take hold. The ones that keep whispering in my ear saying, “Do something about it, you idiot.”

So I did.

I got serious and told the world I was working on an anthology.

I wanted to gather your stories. The kind that would make any mother wondering why she was still wearing her maternity yoga pants five months after pushing the kid out know that she isn’t the only one. The kind that spoke to the magnitude of physical changes a woman’s body will endure while creating new life. The joys of motherhood. And the cursing at the scale months, and even years down the road.

If this idea ever becomes a reality, I want those who pick up the book not want to put it down. I want reports of laughter and tears and muffin top solidarity. I want smiles and Warm and Fuzzies and “Have you read….? The whole thing just made me feel like a conversation with a group of friends!”

Okay. So I want. Now what?

Since I first announced the anthology on the blog, I have been honored to read some incredible essays by mama writers I respect and admire. Jeanne Bowerman, Lisa Galek, Abigail Green, Robin O’Bryant and Stephanie St. John have already submitted and I love each and every piece. I’ve laughed, cried, RELATED, and wanted to hug these women for their words, much as I hope my our future readers will respond.

But my idea was still whispering in my ear and I finally got brave enough to start whispering into the ears of those for whom the message was actually intended. If the book is going to speak to those who read it, I was hell-bent on making sure I get voices that speak to me. Like authors Therese Walsh and Lissa Rankin. Both are incredibly talented women.

One made me cry with her beautifully written novel.

The other made me think telling my vagina she is pretty is a good for her self-esteem.

And that, my friends, brings me to The Happy.

THEY SAID YES!

Of course.

When’s the deadline?

WE BELIEVE IN YOUR IDEA!

My initial reaction was a blank stare.

Holy what?

Really?

SQUEEE! (Because some moments are just totally squee-worthy.)

And after I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I thanked both Therese and Lissa profusely for their gift of time and experience. And then I went all fan-girl again.

*Interested in adding some of this Awesome to your twitter feed? Click on the names and tell them AspiringMama sent you.

*I would love to read your submission, as well. For more information on the anthology idea, please click here. The deadline is April 6 and I can’t wait to read what you have to share.

Never getting blog- tagged again would be the first.

But let me properly introduce this post so the entire class can follow along.

I hate forwards. Of any kind. In my email, in my text messages, and on the blog…they all make me twitch in a She Needs Her Meds kind of way. And while blog tags are sweet and always an honor, they also require work on the part of the receiver. Which is why most blog tags usually come with an “I’m sorry” or “Feel free to ignore this” disclaimer from the sender.

That being said, I’ve actually forgotten about most of the ones I have gotten. I know, this makes me sound like a colossal bitch, but it wasn’t done on purpose. It just so happened that by the time I remembered I had to play nice in the sandbox, I’d surpassed Fashionably Late and crossed over into Why Even Bother.

So I didn’t.

Then I got an instant message from TFF Juliette. She was snickering. Because she tagged me.

And she sort of apologized.

Then she made me promise to participate. I agreed because we’ll be sharing a room in New York and I didn’t want toothpaste on my face, but consider this a one time deal and we’ll all be happier.

So here goes:

Ten Things That Make Me Happy

10: Writing

It goes without saying, I think. But it can’t just be anything. I had a job as a reporter for a long time and it gave me my writing jollies for a while, but I eventually got tired of writing Other People’s Stories. So I quit. Now I am writing a book. And have plans for more. And I blog. This makes me very happy, indeed.

9: Twitter

Tweeting. My tweeple. When I tell you guys you are close to my heart, I mean it. I have ubertwitter on the blackberry, which I always keep in my bra. And you’re welcome for sharing.

8: Not getting tagged again

7: Good hair days

See Mexi-fro for reference. You will soon understand why a fro-free day makes me want to skip through the aisles at the grocery store. Because those are the days I look for a reason to leave the house.

6: Ass-mouflage

It’s kind of like camouflage, but not. Zip up hoodies are great for this. Just unzip, tie the arms around your waist, and position just so, and then you can let yourself believe that no one is staring at your ass wondering what you let happen to it after you had the baby.

5: Not getting tagged again.

Ever.

4: Buttercup kisses.

And Hugs. And snuggles. This little girl is my world. And there’s nothing funny about that.

3: Buttercup’s bed time.

Because no matter how much I love spending every waking moment with her, Mama needs her down time too. And a bottle of wine to psych myself up for the day to come. Because sometimes I wonder if having another baby is like getting another puppy: they chase each other around the yard and stop begging me for a daily walk, which leaves me more time to breathe, right?

2: Not getting tagged again.

Like, you know, ever.

1: Instant gratification.

That’s why hitting send on the tweet or publish on the blog are enough to talk me down from a chocolate chip cookie binge sometimes but not always. I might be busting my ass to lose an incredibly small amount of weight over an incredibly long period of time; I might be nearing the Hurry Up and Wait phase of Getting Published with agent research and mailing queries and holding my breath; and I may never actually see the bottom of my laundry hamper. But I’ve come to terms with all of this. And these little bites of NOW are enough to keep me mostly on the sane side of life.

Mostly.

Which brings me to the Blame Juliette for the Following portion of this blog post. It’s now my turn to tag Other People. My only rule is that if you feel you must get me back, take it out on Juliette instead and send her the tag. Cuz I’ll just smile and ignore it.

My victims are:

And please, by all means…feel free to completely ignore this post. Trust me.