Keep Calm...and Carry On?

I have been mulling over how I can mention this to all of you without having you feel sorry for us or shake your heads, feeling the sting of the disappointment that Jenn and I felt when we were told “No”.

It’s actually not the kind of no that you may be thinking. I mean, it was definitely a “no, we aren’t ready to publish your book right now and make you millions”, but the sentences that surrounded the “no” were priceless and heartfelt. We are ever so grateful for them. When Jenn and I started this adventure, one of the things that we read about the most was how to handle the rejection. Because there is A LOT of it. We have sensitive writer hearts so trying to prepare ourselves to hear “no” over and over wasn’t something that we wanted to practice. We have been pretty lucky so far with the encouragement and feedback that we have gotten from people that we admire. Our journey has just begun and we have been riding our wave of excitement from our very first conference back in January! Overall, we finally received the email we had been waiting for over two months. With nervous anticipation we opened it together and read the first line…(keep calm…)

“Hi Jennifer and Holly,

Thanks very much for your patience with me on POWER OF 7. There is a lot to love here, but I am afraid I am going to pass on the chance to go further with this project.”

We both sighed heavily and our hearts sank in unison. Not the first line we were hoping to read.
Then, as Jenn read on out loud, a few thoughts came to mind. We felt rushed with our first edit and should have asked for more time. Establishing a longer timeline would have given us a more thorough edit and we could have paced ourselves. In the past few months during our time of waiting, we were able to see several areas we would have developed more clearly and even some new elements that we would have added to make the story the compelling one we envision in our dreams. (so here comes the Carry On part…)

My first reaction of course was a big let-down. Should we keep at it? And then… How could we not? I was steadfast for about 24 hours. Then my doubts crept in. Am I good enough? Can I do this? Do I even have any talent? Am I dragging Jenn down? I was in a bad place for about five days. My confidence went down the toilet. I lost my voice. I had almost decided that it would be best for me to say goodbye to this dream for now. Then, I remembered why we had started writing in the first place. It was fun. It was challenging and exhilarating. It made my heart sing. Jenn and I always encouraged each other to try our best and to get up and try again if it didn’t go so great the first time. So I turned my back on the nagging doubts that threatened to pull me down and I prayed, A LOT! I re-committed to the words and found my voice again. My faith in the words and the partner, to whom I am so indebted, brought me back to what is real. I am forever grateful.

In the end, this agent that we have grown to respect, gave us some very kind words, “I wish I had better news for you – you are clearly a talented writing team and I wanted to make a connection with this one. We would love to look at new projects if you don’t place this one.”

She also reminded us that every agent looks at a manuscript in a different way and encouraged us to keep looking. She offered to look at this story again once our revisions are what we would like them to be. So REALLY it was good news, probably the best “rejection” letter we could have received!

So please, do not tell us you‘re sorry, and don’t be sad, because this is the beginning of a really great thing. We are writers and we are committed to telling our story in the best way possible. For those of you that are waiting to be our beta-readers, it is coming! Thank you for being patient and we hope it will be worth your wait! We will continue to keep you up to date on all of our progress and whatever news we have to share. Until then, we will be hard at work getting our edits done and we will do our best at blogging and posting on FB. Thank you friends for your unending love and support! We treasure you!

Carrying On...{H & J}

Mother's Day Wish List

Mother's Day is a day of indulgence. It's the day when moms don't feel the least bit guilty about being spoiled (or spoiling themselves.) It's the time of year when I reflect on the things I want most from my kids, and FOR my kids, and my list is long people. Very. Very. Long.

For Mother's Day, I want my children to be happy. Not the temporary happy that comes from a candy bar in the check out line, or a new "must-have" on our Target run, but the real, lasting kind of happiness that they will carry with them long after they leave the nest. I want them to smile often, laugh even more and feel deep down that they have a happy childhood, the one that Michael and I are trying hard to create and sustain. I want that happiness to be planted early and deeply, so as they grow, it will provide fulfillment and gratitude during the good times and hope and perspective during the hard times, both of which they will have along the way. Happiness, hugs, smiles...I want those things for my kids.

For Mother's Day, I want my children to be full of peace. I want them to be peacemakers and peacekeepers. Not just the kind of peacefulness that keeps them from slugging that annoying kid at school (or one they live with), but the kind of peace that helps them stay grounded when their lives are filled with everyday chaos. I want their home to be a buffer from all the demands that confront them the second they walk out the door. I want us all to slow down and leave room in the schedule so they can experience the value of peace. I want them to offer peace when in an argument, to extend a hand whether they win or lose, and to agree to be kind even when it's not easy. I want them to yearn for the kind of peace that comes with a spring day when the only thing to do is lie in the grass and watch the clouds dance in the sky. Peaceful easy feelings, I want that for them.

For Mother's Day, I want my children to be confident. Not arrogant or showy, but I want them to possess a sense of self that stems from experience and wisdom. The development of such confidence is a gradual one. I want them to have the "wins" in life that help them see their potential and encourage their effort. But I also what them to have the "losses" that teach them to be humble and that it's more important to celebrate the successes of others than merely your own. I want them to have a confidence that gives them strength in the face of peer pressure, like a drink or a "just-try-it" at a party. I want their confidence to be the motivator that urges them to try harder next time, maybe at a sport, on a test, or in a relationship. I want them to always feel like they are enough. And throughout life, as that confidence takes root and grows, I want it to hold onto their hearts and stave off the ugliness of things like jealousy, mistrust, greed and entitlement. A life filled with humble confidence, that's what I want for my children.

For Mother's Day, I want my kids to have compassion. When they encounter a fellow student who's injured on the playground, or a friend with a broken heart, or a stranger in need of a smile or a dollar, I want their first instinct to be to help. I want their hearts to hurt when they witness another person's pain. I want their thoughts to turn often to those in need rather than to their own desires. I want them to experience a friend's compassion so they understand the importance of being there for someone else. When they no longer have me pointing out the needs and hurts of others, I want their own compass of compassion to do the job and reveal to them how they can offer kindness, love and support. Compassion and a heart that's driven to give, that's what I want for each of my children.

For Mother's Day, I want my children to have faith. Faith in their God, in their family, in their friends, and in themselves. I want them to believe in things that aren't easily seen or held or measured, things like love and hope and humanity. In spite of what their peers say or what society tells them, I want them to stand up for their beliefs and have faith. As life goes on, I want them to take that faith with them so they can share the spirit of possibility everywhere they go. It's an unrelenting faith and life-affirming faith. I want that for them too.

Lastly, (and bless you if you've made it this far), for Mother's Day, I want my children to have love. They will surely experience differing degrees of it in their lives and I want them to eventually learn how to give and take the kind of love that lasts forever. The kind that leaves a legacy as it's modeled and replicated and shared. My kids will always have the love of their family, but I still want them to earn that love and respect us all the same. Friends will come and go, but I want them to learn how to cultivate lasting friendships, reciprocating and compromising frequently. I also want them to one day find their soul mates, live love-filled lives and grow old with their best friends. I want them to be generous with their praise and appreciation of the people in their lives. I want them to support them, and be supported during times when their confidence has lost its luster. I want them to offer and aspire to the kind of happiness that endures the rough waters. And I want them to have loved ones all around that feed their spirits as the phases of life wax and wane. Most importantly, I want them to know that the way to truly and completely and fully love others, and to be loved back, is to simply start with loving oneself. I really want my children to experience a lifetime of having and giving love.

So that's my Mother's Day wish list. Happiness. Peace. Confidence. Compassion. Faith. Love. And the greatest of these is LOVE!

Happy Mother's Day to all you amazing moms. May your day be filled with everything that makes your heart sing. And especially to my wonderful mom, who has shaped the woman and mother that I am today...I love you forever!

{J}

Being Grateful

First of all let me say Happy Mother's Day to all my mommy friends out there! I hope you have a joyous weekend enjoying the little ones (or big ones) that gave you the title of "mom". It can certainly feel like a thankless job at times but if you can look past the monotony of the day and stop counting the times you asked someone to pick up their _______ (fill in the blank with your own daily burden) then you can focus on the beauty of the day and what being a mom really means to you. If that doesn't work, look at old video's and listen to the sweet voices of your babies and relish the memories of when they used to listen to you without asking "WHY?" or stomping there gigantic feet in the opposite direction. I hope you get breakfast in bed but no food on the sheets. I hope you get handmade something to pack away and cherish for years. I hope you get smiles and laughter and memories so good you don't have to write them down to remember.

My wishes and hopes for you include one more thing. Awareness. As moms we are usually really good at this. The whole "eyes in the back of our head" thing. I am asking for your awareness to include the possibility that the woman sitting next to you or driving by in her car, or standing in line may have a different weekend ahead of her than a large majority of the country. I heard a few horrible stories this week through social media. Heart breaking stories of loss that will, should you read them, make each and every one of you cringe with your own fear of loss that is beyond comprehension. As I click on the heading of these types of stories, sometimes I think maybe I should just click the X at the top corner before I get pulled into the whirlwind of thoughts that will accompany them. Inevitably I read on. Two in particular caught my attention as it's the week before we celebrate motherhood. We will soon be reading many blog posts and articles about being a mom. The story of the "three year old's handprint" will circulate again and bring tears to our eyes as we either, remember our bigs with little tiny hands, or we actually hold onto those little tiny hands and pray that they won't get bigger too fast. Then there are the women in my life that have prayed for a pair of little hands to hold for so long but still do not have a child to call their own. My heart grieves for you. And then, there are the moms like the ones in the stories, who are in deep mourning and I have no words for that. All I can offer is to mourn with them in silence and pray for the sickening pain to ease as they think about the children lost. These words are hard to hear and harder to write as I think about my three babies. My heart goes out to the moms who are painfully remembering this weekend (and always)and have had a little piece of them go onto to heaven before they were ready to say good-bye. As moms we have imagined the worse-case scenario and to be living through it takes something that is known only to God. I pray that their relationship with Him can offer comfort in those moments and I will not be so presumptuous as to offer any kind of comforting words or advice. I do not have them.

We, as parents, often have a piece of us that wants to make it all better. So situations like April Smith's story take our breath away because we can't. Maybe what it will do though, is make you hug your babies tighter and kiss that teenager like he was five again. Moments like these bring my gratefulness FULL FRONT AND CENTER! That no matter how much they messed up today and how many times they didn't listen, they are here, with me, getting tucked into bed with stories and kisses and hugs and "I'll see you in the morning"...God willing. I'm sobbing as I write this (which is a little embarrassing in the library) and I'm wondering what I can do so that my kids know how much I adore them right in this moment. We NEVER know how many moments we truly have here on this Earth. Am I making the most of mine with my children good and bad? I hope so. I want that.

My father in law was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. He is 77 years old and the doctors told us that with chemotherapy he could have a life expectancy of five to eight years. Getting the news about his life expectancy has got me thinking about how much I take life and time for granted. I get in the rut of daily chores and carpool and work and schedules and because of that I may forget to REALLY live each and every day. Sometimes I’m just too tired to think about anything but getting in bed and starting over in the morning. It's so easy to forget. It's so easy to not be intentional about living and having real living moments. Until you’re introduced to the scary unknown of cancer or other illness, or until you lose someone and are thrown in to the upheaval of grief. We are human. It is in our nature to get caught up in the minutiae of living when we are in the daily grind. It takes habit and AWARENESS to step out of that and enjoy the living of the moment, even the boring ones, because the laundry still has to get done (and put away, just sayin')...and even that holds the power of gratitude. Being grateful that your kids are out running around and getting those clothes dirty, or that they are growing big and strong so that favorite shirt doesn't fit anymore...the NOTICING of those things is a living moment.

So how do we do that every day? That will have many different answers. We will forget. We will have to catch ourselves and sometimes we will have to search REALLY HARD and dig REALLY DEEP to live in the moment. But we can do it. We can do it because we think about Ryan and his parents and we are reminded of the preciousness of life and just how fragile it is. (#redballoonsforryan)

We are privileged, BLESSED really, to parent these little creatures even when we are pulling out our hair and not enjoying any of it. Even the bad moments are real living moments because when we piece them together they create our life. My last mother’s day wish for you is many real living moments when you can have complete awareness, a deep breath and a mental snapshot and the opportunity to let those you love the most know just exactly how much.

Science Camp Anxiety...Mine and His

Do you remember your first sleep away camp? The excitement of packing your sleeping bag and travel-sized toiletries; the anticipation of meeting your cabin-mates and counselor and the twisty-turny bus ride? I do. It was so exciting! At least until bedtime.

When I was 11-years old I went to summer camp for a whole week. It was completely overwhelming for me. The evening routine of camp life was foreign and I wasn't ready for the anxiety that came alone with it.

My poor camp counselor. Stationed in a cabin with a dozen girls, she was probably no older than 18. She had to comfort multiple girls with tears and tummy aches those first few nights. If I could find her on Facebook and thank her for being so gentle and kind all those years ago, I would.

That first camp experience was the beginning of a series of unsuccessful sleepovers and weekend getaways with friends. It was the beginning of calls home to mom so I could be rescued and delivered to the comfort of my familiar home. It was the impetus to my childhood anxiety.

Anxiety disorders are the most common psychiatric condition among adults and most say that they experienced their first symptoms as children. Affecting one in eight children, anxiety disorders are also the most common psychiatric condition in children. But the good news is, they are also the easiest to treat. I know all this because my son has anxiety.

The signs were familiar: he had a hard time at sleepovers and was nervous about school after vacations and breaks. Sometimes he couldn't fall asleep at night, or we'd get a call from school about tummy aches. I told him he was like me - a night owl - and showed him what I did to relax. I told him I used to get nervous about those things too. Then I prayed his wouldn't grow into the same anxiety that I had as a child.

But it did. Two months ago, when we were ready to write the check for science camp, his face paled and he looked like he was going to be sick. "I'm not sure I can go to camp, mom." I immediately knew how he felt. He couldn't even talk about it, he was so distraught. My heart broke a little.

As a parent who knows what it feels like, I knew I needed help. I found an excellent book that gave me a greater understanding of childhood anxiety and explained how to help my son. (Oh how I wish I'd read this book when I was young...) First, we had to talk about his anxiety. We gave it a name: "The Exaggerator," and practiced some new relaxation techniques. We also learned that the key to battling anxiety is rewiring the brain to find a healthy thought path instead of the default, "worry" path. Makes perfect sense. The book showed us how to do that. So we practiced. FOR WEEKS!

With some successful sleepovers, his confidence grew. With "The Exaggerator" to blame, his heart began to heal. And by the final deadline to turn in our science camp check, he felt ready for the challenge. His exact words: "Mom, I'm not going to let "The Exaggerator" take away the fun in my life!" He was more secure about camp and I was more hopeful too. In the last two weeks, we've had lots of questions. We've gone over various scenarios. We've practiced all our tricks and tools in a final attempt to reinforce his sensibilities and fully prepare him for camp next week.

And on Tuesday, as I wave good-bye to my brave boy, I know in my heart he will be well-equipped to fight off "The Exaggerator."

I hope you never experience the BIG, ugly side of worry but if your child is experiencing symptoms of anxiety, don't ignore it, find help. The Anxiety and Depression Association of America website: ADAA.org has great information. The book that worked for us was Freeing Your Child From Anxiety by Tamar Chansky.

Thanks for listening!

{J}

(Published in O.C. Register 4/25/14)

We're Baaaccckkkk!

Hi all,

Holly and I have missed our regular visits to this place of inspiration. We have been swamped with our other writing and life projects. Isn't that always the way it goes? You have to give up the FUN stuff to make sure all the other stuff fits in the calendar? I know you can relate.

Anyway, since many of you have asked, I wanted to share some of the things that have been keeping us occupied elsewhere:

We have completed our structural edit of Power of 7 and are finishing up a second round of content editing as we speak. I'm sure it sounds treacherous but it's more like a jigsaw puzzle that reveals more magic and possibility with every pass through.

We have completed the official P7 synopsis. Now this IS treacherous work! We are glad to have that behind us. (It's used for marketing and querying and searching for our "DreamAgent.")

We have upped our OC Register writing to every week! And our fabulous editor Kelli has acquired six more papers so our distribution has expanded...we LOVE that!!!

We have read a combined 27 books, mostly in our genre or close to it. It's research people! If you’ve read anything great lately, please let us know!

We have partnered with some incredible writers on projects and blog ideas and outreach. (More to come soon!)

Although we've been busy since February, we find ourselves feeling a little lost without all of you...the people we do LIFE with, the people who keep supporting our writing quest and cheering us on. So we've got a long list of blog ideas and articles and various rantings just for you!

Thanks for sharing your moments with us!

{J&H}

The Measles are Coming! The Measles are Coming!

There's a measles outbreak in Orange County. Break out the masks, lock away your children and batten down the hatches! In other words...PANIC!

Okay, I have to admit, when I got the letter from our elementary school illusively stating that someone with measles had been there, two things ran through my mind. One: "Shouldn't they close the school?" And two: "What's the real likelihood my kids will contract measles?"

Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I can certainly worry with the best of them. In fact, I often do that first-WORRY, then I investigate and look for sound reasoning second. This order of emotional response eventually makes way for rational thinking that reminds me that everything's okay. But it's definitely a process. My friend Glennon Doyle Melton at momastery.com calls it "putting on perspectacles" (perspective-spectacles). She is so right!

Back to the measles outbreak...once the email blast made its way through Ladera, the moms got busy, myself included. We're really good at that. As a self-professed, well-intentioned mama bear, I may even argue that we believe it's our calling, our responsibility, to share information. If that information happens to bring with it a little fear, or even some community hysteria, so be it. We would be negligent to keep the facts to ourselves, right?

But this time, along with the information exchange came some pretty harsh finger-pointing, particularly at the parents who have chosen not to immunize their children. I completely understand the urge to find out who's responsible, to find the origin of an outbreak; the cause for our worry, to have more information in order to protect ourselves, but blame isn't productive people. It separates us from that which connects us in the first place: our common parental motivation to do what's best.

Part of living in a close-knit community and espousing the "it-takes-a-village" approach to raising children, brings with it a deep and unavoidable caring about others: other parents who hurt when they can't take away their babies' pain, and children who may suffer from the high fever, miserable rash and other symptoms that the measles virus is notorious for. We worry about members of our community - the immunocompromised, the elderly, the yet-to-be-fully-immune (for whatever reason), and anyone else who may be exposed to such a contagious disease. But the worry is no excuse for being unkind.

The reason parents panic over things like measles, the stomach flu, lice, and other contagious childhood afflictions, is because we're hard-wired to protect. The fear comes from the heart...the caring, feeling heart. But throughout life, parents need other parents. When we're vulnerable and scared, we need each other for strength and perspective. And as we navigate all the different, "do-what's-best" waters, let's remember one thing: we are all in the same boat. Grab an oar and let's keep moving forward.

{J}

By the way, this picture is Logan at one. Isn't he cute? And no, he didn't have measles, just a good case of roseola. I'm bringing this one out for his first girlfriend. #funrashfromthepast

(Article posted in the O.C. Register on 3/28/14)

Humble Pie on PI Day!

It appears that the Golden Rule doesn't apply to social media. We cast stones over the internet and pass judgement of others in ways we wouldn't if we had to see the hurt in their eyes when the mud was slung. Amidst the e-harshness, I rarely see apologies. I almost never see someone write "I was wrong," or "I'm sorry I hurt you," online. Have we forgotten how powerful our words are?

A few weeks ago, my son came home from school and he wasn't himself. He was quiet while he did his homework, he wasn't in the mood for playing in the neighborhood and he was somber at dinnertime. But as we got ready for bed, (BIG things are always revealed at bedtime) it happened.

"Mom, something really bad happened today." His wide eyes filled with tears.

"It's okay...we'll work it out. What happened?"

His story unfolded slowly. Each detail he shared pained him. We had to take a couple breaks to reign in the emotions just to get through it. In the end, it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared, but to him, it was devastating and that's what mattered. His experience is ALL that mattered.

Here's what happened: After school while walking past the playground, he'd made a comment to a friend about a man sitting on the swings, waiting for his own child. The comment wasn't kind and the man heard it. He was hurt...my son saw it in his eyes.

"I don't know why I said it. I feel sooooo bad! I wish I could take it back..."

I was disappointed in his choice and I told him so, but my disappointment was no match to his. He was literally sick over the encounter. Among the review of various applicable lessons, I told him that he needed to remember this situation - especially how it made everyone feel badly, including him - and then he had to promise not to do it again.

And then we talked about forgiveness, from God and from himself, and about how some hurts can be made better. While I knew he might not feel comfortable apologizing to the stranger, I wanted him to consider how saying sorry would feel. I wanted him to make the connection between accountability and reconciliation and peace of mind. It seemed like just having the option made him feel better.

The following day after school, my son greeted me with a great big smile. It was the kind of smile that told me that the previous day's burden was gone...that he had owned it and he had fixed it.

"Mom...I did it! I told the man I was sorry about what I said yesterday and he forgave me. He smiled at me. I feel so much better!!"

I couldn't be more proud! He explained his thought process from the night before: if he didn't apologize, whenever he saw the man at school he would feel bad, like he hurt the man all over again. But if he said sorry and made amends, he wouldn't have to feel that way. They would both feel better.

I was so grateful that he got it. He knew that his regret came from hurting someone else. He knew that in seeking forgiveness, the pain he caused the man and the resulting shame that he felt, would be lifted. For him, it was a simple demonstration of cause and effect. And he was empowered.

The ripple effect is real, people. This is simple proof. Our actions, our WORDS - online and in person - make a difference. Whether it's truth or exaggeration, praise or criticism, love or hate. We are responsible for the things we do and say and the way those actions and words make others feel. When we release negativity into the world, it travels much farther than we can ever know. And the same goes for POSITIVITY, except the resulting ripple is much better for us all.

So follow the lead of a brave young boy and remember the Golden Rule. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Be considerate. Be kind. And don't forget, when you mess up, OWN it, then make amends.

{J}

(Adapted article published in O.C. Register: March 14, 2014.)