No Shame

What in the world?

What have I taken a picture of and posted so unabashedly in my blog?

Drumroll please….

It’s my first check for writing.

The first time I have made money for the craft. Well aside from the time my mom paid me 50 cents to type up a paper for her graduate class…that doesn’t really count.

So the check was for articles written on Botox.  So the articles won’t even have my name. So the editor I worked with will read this post and chuckle at me.

I am still proud.

And yes, I did post the check up on my refrigerator, right up there with Ada’s arts & crafts paper Easter basket and cross. It’s a small step, but it’s a step nonetheless.  I have hope that someday, somehow, I can stop digitally removing fecal matter from people (if you don’t know what that means, think carefully: your fingers are called ‘digits’.  Now do you understand why I have to stop working as a nurse?!)

I have hope that I can change my life.  That I can become a successful writer.  Even if that means starting making twenty-nine dollars for five Botox articles and blogging about it…

Ain’t no shame in that.

A Poem? What Poem Would That Be?

That’s a Matilda movie quote, for those of you who haven’t seen it. It’s my dad’s favorite movie.

I had a productive morning so far. I got up at 5 AM after feeding Mya, and decided to take charge of my life. I’ve decided I want to become a freelance writer.  To think that some people make a living out of just writing about anything and everything? A-mazing.  That would be a dream come true for me.  Work from home, explore different topics, still have time to play with my kids whenever I feel like it.

The problem?

To be a freelance writer you have to actually you know, write. Like real articles and stuff.

Hmmmm…

So I tried to make good on my promise this morning. I signed up for an online magazine article writing class, drafted an article a nursing magazine (put that BSN to some use!) and actually submitted an article to Skirt! magazine.  Impressive, no? I can hardly believe it myself. And all before 8 AM.

Now it is time to get the kids up and dressed and off to church. I think it is promising to be a delightfully warm day and I am inspired and feel spring-y.  Also, I don’t have any more time left to write a blog post, so I’ve decided to leave you with a spring-y poem that I wrote a while back for a poetry contest (the poem won second place. Out of six. Ahem).

Blossoming

The dusty road of yesterday
Wearily passes by
Suddenly—unexpected hope.
Perched upon the grass, a “For Sale” sign swings gently.
Planning, dreaming.

Strolling about the home-to-be
Two apple trees beckon
Laughing, we pluck a taste of fall.
Words fade amidst September’s harvest, a future?
Crunching, wondering.

Cradling an expectant swell
The wind holds a promise
Seated upon the porch, I smile.
A bright April brings apple blossoms and a dream.
Waiting, hoping.

Standing beneath the apple tree
The air is crisp and cool
Warm against my cheek, my daughter.
Overhead the branches mimic a sweet embrace.
Loving, living.