Yep, there are four two-legged humans residing in my house. And I’ll answer the question before you ask. Yes, I was insane. A surge of maternal hormones overruled what little intelligence I possessed. While most Americans had the good sense to stop at two-point five kids, I felt it was my patriotic duty to contribute to the national average.

No, seriously, my four munchkins are my greatest accomplishment and most cherished asset. In a lot of ways, I’ve learned as much from them, as hopefully, they’re learning from me. There weren’t any books to purchase or courses I could enroll in that could truly prepare me for the role of parenthood. All I had was the desire to become the best doggone parent possible. My job is to provide my children with guidance, wisdom, and unconditional love, so that they can one day become independent, and survive in this world. So, with four distinct personalities to manage, I find that my parental beliefs never change, but the way I parent each child does.

Of my three boys, my youngest is the most sensitive. I’m always careful to maintain a calm, steady voice with him, unless I want a flood of tears to follow. On the other hand, that nine-year old she-devil, masquerading as my daughter can work my last good nerve. On more than one occasion, I’ve contemplated running away from home. The other two fall somewhere in between.

My leap into the literary arena was much like my jump into parenthood. I had zero writing talent, but a deep rooted passion for the romance genre. My desire was simple: write the best story possible. And I find that my approach to writing is similar to the way I parent. Each of my stories is different as well as the characters. In a lot of ways, I’m the parent to my stories. After all, I birthed them and my job is to nurture, give complete and undivided attention, and work to ensure they mature so they can one day leave the nest to find a new home called a bookshelf.

Yesterday, I got the revisions for my upcoming release from my editor. She’s a wonderful editor and has challenged me to make a good story better. Folks, I’ve got some work to do! After reading her comments, I was drained and stressed to the max. I shut off the computer for an extend break and said to myself, “I can’t do this!” Then, I thought back on the day my first child was born. As soon as the nurse wheeled him inside my room, I heard a soft grunt. His face was twisted slightly and his shoulders hunched a bit. He was in the middle of his first poop. Panic set in big time because I’d never changed a diaper in my life! When he finished, he looked at me like, “Well, Mom.” Maternal instinct took over. Even though he ended up with a crooked Pamper, his bottom was clean and dry, and I hadn’t been transferred to the psych ward. We made it through, together.

After reminiscing on that event, I decided my revisions were similar to my crooked diaper experience. My story needs me to get it from infancy to adulthood.

I’m the parenting author.