Well, some of it, yes. My kids, my opinions of kids books…but really, the writing, not me.

So it’s time to say goodbye. I’ll probably still review children’s pictures books, but somewhere else. And I’m sure I’ll talk about my kids and me, but not here.

Farewell dear readers…

It took awhile, but some words finally came to me. A couple of short stories and a novel in progress…it feels so wonderful to write again.

Words can make a person smile and lift them to the clouds.
They can stab through a heart and tear you down.

Words can have strong meaning, or mean nothing at all.

Words hold truths and foster lies.

Words can be understood or misinterpreted.

Words can express love. They can express hatred.

Words are the most important things in life.
Joyful words.
Explosive words.
Wondrous words.

Beautiful words. Angelic words.
Ugly words. Demonic words.

Glorious words.
Inquisitive words.

To some, in the end, words are just words.
But to me, words are everything.

I thought you could just sit down in front of any keyboard or notebook and start pouring out your ideas from beginning to end and viola! You have a draft of a novel. Oh no. Not like that at all. There’s character development, acts you must follow, rules you should adhere to, guidelines you should fall within.

I stupidly decided to take an online writing course about romance novels. I thought that it would be a good idea to do this while working on my romance novel so that I would kind of know what I was doing.

It backfired. I’m a little more than half way through the course and I hit a wall with my novel. A huge block wall that I must pole vault over to continue my journey.

Go ahead and reiterate to me that the first draft is simply a draft and it’s no big deal. It’ll suck. I know this. Boy, do I know this. However, it’s beyond sucking. It follows none of those guidelines, none of the rules, there are no acts and let’s just say my characters are dull and flatter than a sheet of paper.

I chatted with my sister last night, a fellow aspiring writer. In my brainstorming, ahem, complaining about this wall I’ve been trying to get over for the last two weeks, I made the comment that maybe I should just restart. Begin again. Not to forget about the 22,000 words I’ve already written, but change them, add to them, delete some. Copy and paste where I see them fit, but just start anew. Develop my heroine and hero some more. Really get to know them. Make a robust outline or guide or set of notecards…THEN write. Hash it out. Draft this baby of mine in no time. Get it to the point where it’s readable to my very small select chosen ones.

Then sometimes I think I over-think things too much and I should just finish what I already have knowing I’ll have to go back for rewrites.

All I know is that this wall must come down. And quick.

I know, you’re not supposed to talk about a novel in progress. So I won’t. Ok, only enough to say I’m in first draft mode and the beast is all I can think about.

I AM a writer, damn it.

But I also need to do something with my words in the meantime. To, you know, get my name out there. Start submitting some short fiction to the masses. Maybe start writing articles for, oh I don’t know, more than just the pure pleasure of writing them. I write a bazillion megatrillion words a day, but it’s time for them to start going somewhere.

And, oh, you should see the books queued up for reading. Hundreds. And this isn’t including the ones on my Amazon wish list either.

I also have the INSANE idea to knit/crochet dolls for my nieces for Christmas.

We mustn’t forget about the Zs. My children are getting older, bigger and more brilliant as the days go on. I never thought I’d get to the age where one of my children not only requests certain songs while we’re driving, but also makes me turn it up loud. Firework by Katy Perry. The Time by Black Eyed Peas. And Need You Now, by Lady Antebellum. Zoe sings along too. Dancing and singing in the car with my children – the greatest fun.

And for the break, the time where I need to let it all go and sweat out the crazies and just let my wander, I’m running. 3 − 4 days a week, 3 miles a time. I load the kids in the bright blue double jogger and we run like the wind, Bullseye. It’s one the most exhilarating 50 minutes of my day. It’s great that the kids love the ride, too. Makes it easier when it’s time to load them up.

So you see…lots going on. And I haven’t figured out how to balance it all yet. I wake up, start going and before I know it, it’s midnight and I’m like, where the hell did the day go? It’s gone, a memory on the wall of memories.

And really, to be truthfully honest, I thrive on having too much to do with no time to do it in. The pressure gets my juices flowing, my mind racing and I start to get stuff done. Otherwise, I’m just floating in a space time continuum not knowing where to go and procrastinating the crap out of life.

Matthew’s Truck is about a little boy driving his toy truck around. But instead of watching him drive it with his hand, he gets in it and drives through the house. Mountains made from the back of recliners, tunnels made from chairs and windy roads made from all the stuff sitting on kitchen counters.

It was a pretty cute book. I liked how the illustrations showed Matthew sitting behind the wheel driving the truck, instead of a boy pushing a toy truck around. It was a simple, easy read, too, so even Zoe was able to sit through it cover to cover.

Recommendation: It was a good read

Other books by Ayres: Up, Down and Around, A Long Way

(For more information about this review, please read the disclaimer.)

My favorite thing to do during the day is to put on some music and dance with the kids. For being almost three and almost one and a half, they’ve got some moves, too. And they’re favorite song? Firework.

The kids love it and I love it. It’s got a great message, especially when you’re not feeling particularly good. (For the record, Glee’s version rocks, too.)

Zack sings it and requests it. Zoe tries to sing it and they both ALWAYS dance when it’s on, even in the car.

So, thank you, Katy Perry. You get my kids dancing, me singing and all of laughing.

I’m not a prude when it comes to technology. We only use cell phones, there are no landlines in my house. My Facebook opens every time I open my laptop. It was the first page I bookmarked on my iPad. Zack can rock through both iOS and Android OS. Zoe tries to swipe the laptop screen. Yep, I’m a big fan of all things techie.

That being said, I have some strong opinions about kids (for the sake of discussion, let’s say those who are under the buying power of adults – tots through those that work and pay their own bills) and access to the world o’ the internet.

Cell and smart phones have their purpose, no doubt. And I believe that a preteen should be allowed to have the most basic of cell phone with the most basic of functions. Calling and texting. This will help parents keep tabs and maybe allow a bit of freedom for the child that seems to have been stripped away from when I was young (and even more so from the days of my parents). My neighbor reluctantly gave his eleven year old son a basic cell. It has allowed him to visit friends that live further away and ride his bike further places.

But smart phones for kids? Data plans for those who aren’t paying the bills and are under the age of 18? Hmmm…that’s where I have an issue. Here’s why:

• Constant, 24/7 access to the internet. Really? Does a fourteen year old need to check their email, Facebook and chat all hours of the day? No.
• Nothing bugs me more than seeing a bunch of teenagers in a group, all with their Droids or iPhones out not talking to each other.
• Oh, the trouble they can get into. I see the self-photos my little cousins take and post. And how many times do you hear about a girl who texted a picture of her tatas to a boyfriend who turned around and texted it to their friends who sent it to their friends and before you know it all of Kansas has seen Betsy’s boobs.

Which takes me to social networking. Do I think a thirteen year old should have a Facebook? No. Nor an eleven year old. And most sixteen year olds I know. Most of the time their time spent on Facebook is harmless. Sometimes they post innocent photos of themselves looking all sweet. Or trying to be sexy. And they spend more time on there than I do…and that’s saying something. Having that much free access can just be overwhelming.

Yes, yes, it’s all about staying connected and what not. All they’re friends are doing it. Some teachers tweet school assignments.

But let’s be smart, people. There are bad people out there that exploit ways to get to our children that we may never think of. I’m not saying lock up our children’s access to the world. But limit it. Guard it. Know and teach about the dangers.

Be involved and know what your child is doing online.

Please check it out when you get a chance.

I love these challenges! Thanks, Chuck, for thinking of them.

I have read plenty of alphabet books in my time as an aunt and mom. Some have been cute and some have been horrible. The title alone of this book was too cute to ignore. The illustrations were light and colorful. The concept just warms my heart. The humanoid peas use the alphabet to describe who they are and what you, the reader, could be. “We are acrobats, artists and astronauts in space…” Each letter shows a group of peas, complete with arms and legs and costumes, acting out their occupation, including quarterbacks and volunteers.

This is one of those rare books that can put a smile on your face (and teach you a little something). Zack loves this book. And for that matter, Zoe loves this book, too. After the daytime story time, Zack will take the book in his bed with him and read it again and again.

Recommendation: I’d buy it (totally)

Other books by Baker: Quack and Count and The Magic Fan

(For more information about this review, please read the disclaimer.)

Zack (2 months shy of 3) relies on me for a lot of things that he can do himself. That I’ve seen him do himself. That others tell me he can do himself. But when he’s around mommy, it’s a whine fest of trying to get me to do it for him. And instead of giving in we both end up angry.

Example…we finally decided to teach him to pull down his own pants at peepee time. When daddy takes him to the bathroom, all is well and they get in and out with no fuss. When I take him, it’s “no you do it” over and over. I show him how, without doing it, many times a day. Then when daddy is home – BOOM! Pants come off with no problem.

Maybe I should note that he’s the first born. Do a lot of first-born children have this same issue?

I can’t get him to do a quiet time unless it involves me being in the vicinity. I can’t get him to color or play with playdough without my involvement somehow. However, other people can.

Is there ANY advice out there on how to teach independence? His baby sister (14 months) is very independent. She kind of has to be since I spend a lot of time with her big brother. She’s even figured out how to put on her own shoes (kind of) because she was sick of waiting for me to do it.

I don’t think I can be done with this subject. I’m going to do some research, implement some things and then check back here. But in the meantime I would appreciate ANY advice on the matter.