Thoughts from a writing mom

Last night my husband and I were QUADRUPLE-booked for the evening. One kid had karate. One kid had soccer practice. One kid had a baseball game, and as parents we were scheduled for concession stand duty for our other son’s baseball team. Understandably I was worrying about how we’d get it all done. But then, our daughter’s soccer coach texted that he had a work conference call come up unexpectedly so he’d be canceling practice. YES! One less thing. My husband took my son to his game and then hit up the concession stand for duty. I took my daughter to karate with all of the other kids in tow. I was able to get to the fields to watch the last half of my son’s game and my husband was able to continue working the concession stand as our kids played outside. We keep doing this, he and I. We are crazy booked with all of these kids and their activities but we are making it all happen for them. It would be a massive lie if I told you it’s always rainbows and butterflies and we’re

I received a rejection today. Not my first, and I'm certain it will not be my last. No rejections feel great, but this one in particular stung because I really believed that this project was a good one. I thought I did well, and the one receiving it thought otherwise. So this grown 35-year-old woman cried. Big, fat tears. And whined to her husband about it.   And thought that maybe she should just quit because what is the point of all of these hours spent writing if they aren’t paying our bills, and if they aren’t even appreciated? Today felt a little more like being punched in the gut than a simple rejection. It hurt and I wallowed in it.   I let myself sit and roll around in self-pity and I’m embarrassed now and am only sharing because transparency feels like the best policy if I’m writing, you know? Briefly I felt like giving all of this up.   Quitting. I’m not good enough.   I’ve shared that with friends before, my feelings on my writing talent, or lack thereof.