Sunday, November 2, 2008

Count down.

We are officially in the end of days. In a short time, our lives will change forever and nothing will ever be simple any more. No, I’m not warning of Armageddon. We are exactly one month from the Smudgie due date. The last minute doubts and recriminations have begun.

SO: (as we pulled up the big area rugs and drug them outside to beat them) How are we supposed to take care of a kid? We have trouble keeping our house clean.

Me: It’s okay, precious. We don’t have to take the baby out into the backyard and beat it to clean it.

SO: But I mean, we’ll have to vacuum EVERY DAY.

Me: And your point is?

SO: Can we do this? I mean, can we really do this?

Me: Well you’re about eight months late on asking that question.

SO: What if we become our parent?

Me: It’s possible, but then neither of us came out a sociopath so I’m not so worried if our parents take over our brains from time to time.

I have to admit to one thing. It would really kill me to become my mother. Needless to say, my mom and I don’t have a great relationship. It’s very complicated but never acrimonious. You see my method of dealing with the situation is to avoid it. I live six hundred miles away. Since I moved to Georgia, the relationship between us is better than it has ever been. We don’t argue, we talk on the phone pleasantly. I think it has to do with neither of us knowing quite how to deal with the other. We are so very different.

My mom thrives on drama. The more excited and stirred up things are, the happier she is complaining about it. Me, I hate drama. I like calm, quiet and even boring. My family, a byproduct of generations of indoctrination are loud, impossible to ignore and in each other’s business. Ever see My Big Fat Greek Wedding? My maternal side is like that, only we’re not Greek. We’re Irish, German and Romani and boy does that make for an interesting mix of personalities. And I’m one of four in five generations of my family that didn’t live within 30 miles of everyone else. Myself, two cousins and my nephew all got out.

Now that Smudgie is close to coming, I do regret that he is going to grow up without cousins to run in and out of his life. I can’t imagine my young life without my cousins. But he’s going to have a better life than I had. He’s not going to have to worry about enough food to eat, clothes to wear and if there would be enough heat to keep him from getting frostbite at night. He won’t have to watch for roaches when he goes into the kitchen at night or rats in the bathroom. At least I hope he won’t. God willing, we’ll always be able to make his life better than either of ours was.




On a higher note:


Seventeen Days until the release of Soul Stone.


Soul Stone, the final book in the Jewels of Ursus trilogy that included Mating Stone and Lover's Stone, will be released on November 19th. I'm so very excited for everyone to see what's instore for Tarris, my little incubus. His story was so compelling to me that it ended up surpassing the novella requirements to be a part of Ellora's Cave's Jewels series and became a full blown novel. It can be read as a stand alone, but I have to admit there are little jokes and situations that you will find funnier if you have read Mark and Luke's stories first.




And as I have with the other Jewels of Ursus stories, I will be having a contest and giving away a semi-precious piece of jewelery. Tarris' story was intended to be an October Jewel and you will find that an opal plays an important part in his story. Because of that, the prize this time will be a rainbow opal pendant and matching earrings. These are delicate and since Tarris isn't sensitive to silver like his Were brothers, these are set in silver. To the left you can see a preview of the pendant.






I'll roll out the contest closer to the time of the release, so be sure to check back. Now run off and see what the other folks whose blogs are on the left have to say.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Like your other pieces, this is gorgeous. I look forward to the contest.

Family: Romani, Irish, and German. It's like they figured out which cultures are the most stubborn and then cross-bred. Yikes. On the other hand, it also means you don't take crap.

You and Kell will do fine. And yeah, you freak out when they hand you the kid and tell you you're allowed to take it home... without testing you, without an owner's manual, without seeing whether or not you vacuumed. This is all just part of the fun. ;)

Come see how mine turned out. I posted pics today. You may not feel so bad afterward.

Molly Daniels said...

My most profound moment at this time 17 years ago:

We were headed for a childbirth class and I turned to hubby and said, 'You know...I'll have to take this baby EVERYWHERE! I just can't leave him at home with the cats!'

'You're just now realizing this?'

And a month later, my mother laughed at me when she asked my where I wanted to eat for my birthday dinner and I blurted out, 'I don't know how he's going to behave. He's never been to a restaurant before...'

But once I got over my 'fear' of taking him out of the house, I wanted to take him EVERYWHERE and show off my beautiful baby boy. And now he's about to turn 17; stands almost a head taller than I; and in one more year I'm going to pack him off to college.

Now THAT'S scary:)

Anny Cook said...

You'll do fine. It's amazing how fast you'll learn. My four all survived and two went off to multiply themselves...

Jacquéline Roth said...

Kelly, You think that's bad? My father was Scottish. Talk about being born to be bullheaded.