Bad Mommy Bad Writer

<p>One woman's quest to make something of herself. During nap time.</p><p>Me: Mother wife and writer watching forty climb the front steps like a peddler pushing time and me with nowhere to hide. </p><p>  The writer part used to come first the forty used to be thirty and marriage and motherhood were abstract activities I thought I'd try someday. Ah growing up. If only it was the thrill promised when we were six.</p><p>  I have written hundreds of articles and essays that have been published. I have written a book that has not been published. It has been rejected. Repeatedly. Eventually I set the whole stupid manuscript on fire. Did that stop me on this preposterous quest to publish a book? No. All I want in the whole wide world besides being a good mother to my two tiny daughters is to be an author. </p><p>  But writing is hard. And the publishing industry is a beast. And I am terrified of failure. And most of my days are spent trapped under a pile of plastic princesses or scraping peanut butter off of the wall.</p><p>  Will I pull this author thing off? Or will I ditch writing adopt a Xanax habit abandon my own identity and live the rest of my life vicariously through my children? </p><p>  Hmm let's find out.</p><p><br></p>