Be Careful!

Like most mothers I know, I have the amazing ability to predict every possible outcome of my children's daring acts of physical prowess. The first time on a two-wheeler with training wheels carries, as every good mother knows, the risk of skinned knees, concussion, broken bones, and death.

Okay, so maybe we mothers have a knack for exaggerating dangers.

As I stepped back from my five-year-old attempting to teach her three-year-old brother how to ride her big girl bike, I cautioned them to "be careful."

Be careful.

How often I direct these two words to my children! How deeply I hope they don't always heed them!

Granted, there are plenty of times when being careful is wise. I don't want my children to rush into danger, heedless of almost inevitable disaster. On the other hand, I want them to dream and to dare. I don't want them just to look at the big kid bike and walk away with drooping shoulders. I want them to look at the big kid bike, climb on without hesitation, stretch their legs to reach the pedals, struggle to apply the appropriate force, fall and get up again, and eventually ride like the wind.

I want them to feel the rush of having dreamed and dared to do that of which others think they are incapable. I want them to count the dangers a small price for the conquest.

Luke didn't master the big kid bike today, nor have I mastered the art of letting my children grow up. But I'm working on it.

I'm reminding myself: Be careful not to say too often, "Be careful."

The Goal of Writing... (SPOILER ALERT!!!!)

A little over a week ago, I received the first of hopefully not too many rejections of the dear, little novel introduced in my last post. I was not overly surprised, knowing that rejections are a large part of getting published. Of course, I had hoped the agent would read my submission, fall in love, and start soliciting the movie rights. But I knew better. That's not how the business works.

Even expected pains hurt a little, but I am thankful for other options and for friends and family who have been supportive of and enthusiastic about the book. If you have read or are praying for the future of Grit, thank you!

Meanwhile, my boys have been busy. Today they prepared a little surprise they were sure I'd enjoy because, as they told me, "You inspired it!"

So, dear New York City Literary Agent, I won't cry because you "aren't enthusiastic enough" about my book. I understand it's part of getting published. Maybe I'll find an agent or publisher who falls head over heels in love with my story, or maybe this will be enough reward for my labors...

The village of Thresh: Grit's, Sire Stone's, and Coil's huts.

Post sparring match: Check out Grit's dagger on the table and the berries at her side. I believe they took great pains to pick an appropriate face for the wounded warrior.

Grit: Ignore the fact that Scrarlett ought to teach Grit to shave and focus on the beautiful pearl she's wearing! (And that's one huge berry, isn't it?)

And finally, Seal and Oath, carrying the day's loot into their hut, followed by Turf.

On the other hand, dear New York City Literary Agent, you may have missed out on striking* a great deal with the Lego company.

*Pun totally intended.