Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Two Whole Hands

This week, Number One turned two whole hands!

A few years ago, okay, FIVE years ago, he was so excited to be turning, "one whole hand!"  I remember telling a co-worker, and we laughed and laughed about here, and here we are, and he's already ten.  It's hard to believe.  He's grown so much into himself, and so many of the issues of the previous years are resolving themselves as he gets older, which is a blessing to us in so many ways.

Excuse Number One's face!  He had just finished his Veteran's Day performance, and he was tired of standing.

As a parent, it's hard to express how much you love your children.  To the moon and back is never far enough.  Parenting is one of the most frustrating, heartbreaking jobs, but it's amazing to see your children grow and develop, and it is so rewarding when you see them achieving their dreams.

Speaking of dreams, I'm back to working on mine.  I pulled up my novel, previously Semi-Detached, now named No Turning Back, and I requested beta readers through Goodreads.  I received feedback from two people, and they both liked the story.  They gave me pointers on some things I can change to make it better, and mostly I agree with what they said.  It was nice to have unbiased feedback, and positive feedback from people I don't know!  It makes me feel like maybe I can actually get somewhere as a writer, if I keep putting the effort and the time into it. I just wish there were about seven more hours in the day.  There never seems to be enough time.  

In other news, the gods of unfairness are playing against me when it comes to my alopecia areata. About a month ago, I noticed I have a few strands of eyebrow hair.  They are still there: I can feel them.  Well maybe a week go, my underarms started itching, and I noticed today I'm growing a little underarm hair.  Um--can someone just transfer that to my head?  Who wants underarm hair, really?  I said in my mind what my Mom said to me, and what every one's parents said to them in a little cliche voice, "Life is not fair."  I wished for hair, and it popped up in a place where I'm going to shave it off.  Maybe I'll just let it grow long, and move to a commune or something.  Or I could be in the circus, "The Bald Woman with Underarm Hair Down to Her Toes."  Great fodder for a novel.

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