Ok, you guys. I have some news to share. It’s pretty big. And no, I am not pregnant so don’t even think about it. AND NOW I’M SWEATING.
A + J is on the map, you guys! I mean, could any map be more significant than this one, made of all of you, my #1 fans (aka friends and family)? Probably not, but this is something a little different and, as a currently meandering soul, pretty exciting for me.
Before I get to, let’s go back to last Wednesday morning when this announcement was put into motion.
Most Wednesday mornings the boys and I aim to be out of the house by 8:15 so the boys don’t miss breakfast at school. Last Wednesday though was a little different. The boys’ well checks were scheduled for 9:20 that morning so the boys had some extra time to rip things off the shelves, throw them in as many directions as possible, sprinkle the floor with Cheerios and then run through them just to make sure they were as difficult as possible to clean up. And I had some extra time to finish rewriting some of the content I had been working on for the boys’ school’s website, a volunteer project I’ve taken on in my free time (AKA unemployment) and follow up on some emails. Of course, this is what extra time means to average adults without children – it’s a basic formula: more time = more accomplishments. For me, the equation is a little trickier: more time = no additional accomplishments; extra time usually just means I will have to keep my kids alive and clean longer than usual while kicking myself that I didn’t actually get anything extra done at all (because you know being a mom really isn’t that much).
The boys wrestled, they jumped, they ran, they screamed, they cried, they begged for more food and more Paw Patrol and I found myself as I usually do, hiding in the bathroom checking my email, catching up on current events and my Instagram feed. While sitting hunched over on the toilet, my computer in my lap,I got sidetracked writing an email response. While I sat fixated on the structure of a sentence, high-pitched screams and the pounding of small feet echoing underneath the door, I had an epiphany. I want to write.That’s all I want to do. How can I do that? And just like that I thought of the most popular “mommy” blog I knew of, Googled the site, found a page on how to send in submissions for consideration, copied something I had written perviously, pasted it into an email, put together a quick quirky bio and clicked send.
There was a bold note at the bottom of the Submission Guidelines page: Due to the high number of submissions we receive, you will hear from us within one week if we are able to run your post. And while I didn’t follow this particular site (or is it a blog?), I knew the site was fairly popular and that my odds of hearing back were probably fairly slim. I closed my computer, reemerged from my “office” and went on to sweat a tremendous amount at the doctor’s office. By 10:00am I had even forgotten the epiphany or the wild “WHAT’S THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN?” hair I’d given in to.
Cut to Thursday afternoon. Maybe it was a blessing from the porcelain god I spend so much time with these days, maybe it was just a fluke, maybe it was a different equation you’re probably familiar with: preparation + opportunity = luck or maybe it was just good luck combined with some sort of good karma. Who knows. Either way, the next day I got an email from the Senior Content Editor saying they thought my submission was great and they would be publishing it on Monday. AKA TODAY. I immediately went back and reread the piece I sent.
It’s by far not the best thing I’ve ever written. It’s not deep or provocative. It’s definitely not going to change lives. But it is mine, I did write it and it’s published and accessible to a pretty broad audience, so that’s pretty cool. I mean, I’ll obviously fucking take it.
You guys, I literally turned lemons into lemonade while hiding from my kids in the bathroom on a random Wednesday morning. Just know ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.
Now, without further ado I’m going to send you over to Scary Mommy!
5 Things An Unemployed Mom Never Wants To Hear