Ten Things I Want My Daughters To Know

10. Be respectful, even if you feel someone doesn’t deserve your respect, and especially if you don’t feel like being respectful (i.e. when you’re a teenager and I’ve done something to really upset you). Use “yes, sir”, “no, sir” and “yes, ma’am”, “no, ma’am”. People may tell you that being addressed in such a way makes them feel old and ask you not to speak like this anymore, but until they do so, always begin with respect.

9. Try to be as nice as possible to everyone, including guys that make you feel nervous/suspicious. But don’t be afraid to walk away. Don’t be afraid to run. Try to avoid confrontation at all costs, but if push comes to shove and you don’t have any other recourse, do NOT be afraid to use your knee in a certain sensitive area.

8. The world is full of wonder and beauty. It also has people who can do horrible things. Be aware, be cautious, but in addition to protecting yourself, do not let go of optimism. Look for the good in others; look for the beauty in the darkness. When something goes wrong, look at it as an opportunity to learn and to “have an adventure.”

7. Guard your heart well. It is soft and wants to be loved. Do not give it to a boy simply because he says you’re pretty. Don’t give it away because he likes you, and it feels good to be liked. Give it to someone who respects you, admires you, and who would rather make you smile than take your clothes off. Never settle, because you are worth everything.

6. I am biased because I am your mother, but that doesn’t negate the fact that you are beautiful–both inside and out. Respect your body, take care of it, and let it show you how strong it can be. But don’t forget to nurture the beauty on the inside, either. When you were a baby one of the very first things I said to you was how strong you were. You are strong. You are intelligent. And you are beautiful. Never let yourself forget that you are not a one-dimensional character, and never let anyone else make you believe that, either.

5. There will be times when you do something or say something that you will regret. Do not be afraid to apologize, even if it means you have to grovel in the mud. You are strong, but don’t forget that strength is built through our experiences, too. There is no weakness in doing what is right.

4. Use credit cards only for emergencies (and no, purses and shoes do not count as emergencies). Avoid loans as much as possible; it is better to wait and save and then pay in full than to know years of stress and worry. Be smart with your money in terms of saving and purchases, but also be generous. Use your time and money to take care of yourself, but also experience the joy of helping others in need.

3. Take joy in the relationships you build with your friends and family, and nurture them. These relationships will be more important to you than any success. It is important to trust yourself, but there will be times when you will need to listen to the advice of those who care most for you, because they can often see things with a perspective you do not have. On the other hand, do not be afraid to step away from a relationship that is harmful in any way. You can love someone while loving them from a distance, and it should not be your responsibility to make them “well”. Loving someone sometimes means needing to step away so they can heal themselves.

2. Middle school will not last forever. High school will not last forever. A certain job will not last forever. The world is huge and made up of billions of people. Do not let those who cannot see beyond the moment define who you are or who you want to be.

1. We will not always get along. If you are like me at all, no doubt you will be stubborn and proud and confident in your own opinions. No matter what happens, please remember that I love you. More than anything. I am not perfect by any means, and I will not always be right, but I will always want the best for you. Remember this, and remember that my heart is earnest in its intentions toward good. And know that whether you are hurt or lost or indescribably happy, you will always have a place in my arms.

What about you? You don’t have to list ten things, but I’d love to hear what you want your children to know for the future.

 

I’m Elise Rome, AKA Midnight Mama because I’m usually burning the midnight oil. If SuperGirl (2, with a speech delay) and WonderGirl (1, my very own hip attachment) aren’t getting up in the middle of the night, then I’m busy working on writing and writing-related business until early morning…usually 3-4 am or so. Both my husband and I stay home with the girls (he’s a writer, too! www.lukasholmes.com), but usually I’m focused on them throughout the day and only get started working until after 8pm when they’re both in bed. I’m a former Texan now living in Colorado who desperately misses no-snow winters, and my parenting goal is to raise my daughters to be strong, intelligent, and independent women…much like the heroines I write, as a matter of fact. I’m a recovering perfectionist, recovering procrastinator, and perpetually aspire to keep the house clean (because it never actually is). When I’m not chasing around my daughters or adoring my cooking/cleaning/diaper-changing husband of 8 years, I write historical romances about women who fascinate me and men who somehow always remind me of Rhett Butler, the first literary hero who captured my heart. www.eliserome.com

Friday Fun: What Ryan Gosling Says

Have you seen all the Ryan Gosling memes going around? I have no idea where they started or why, but I can spend a TON of time (that I don’t have, of course) scrolling through and laughing. Today, for Friday Fun, something I think many of us can relate to:

I may not have had 14… but it was pretty close. And how many did I use? One. For perhaps a couple of days. 😉

What about you? Are/were you a babywearing mama? How many baby carriers did you have?

I’m Elise Rome, AKA Midnight Mama because I’m usually burning the midnight oil. If SuperGirl (2, with a speech delay) and WonderGirl (1, my very own hip attachment) aren’t getting up in the middle of the night, then I’m busy working on writing and writing-related business until early morning…usually 3-4 am or so. Both my husband and I stay home with the girls (he’s a writer, too! www.lukasholmes.com), but usually I’m focused on them throughout the day and only get started working until after 8pm when they’re both in bed. I’m a former Texan now living in Colorado who desperately misses no-snow winters, and my parenting goal is to raise my daughters to be strong, intelligent, and independent women…much like the heroines I write, as a matter of fact. I’m a recovering perfectionist, recovering procrastinator, and perpetually aspire to keep the house clean (because it never actually is). When I’m not chasing around my daughters or adoring my cooking/cleaning/diaper-changing husband of 8 years, I write historical romances about women who fascinate me and men who somehow always remind me of Rhett Butler, the first literary hero who captured my heart. www.eliserome.com

What Race Are We In Again? Parental Competition

Photo by Duncan Hull (click pic for link)

Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you I’m competitive. I grew up playing sports and kind of took on the mentality of second place is first loser. (Let’s not talk about how I was salutatorian in both junior high AND high school. I have perpetual second place-itis it seems.) But one place where I thought would be free of competition has turned out to be an arena rife with it–the world of parenting.

It all starts with those annoying emails you sign up for when you’re pregnant. They’re exciting in the beginning–your baby is now the size of a Skittle and can feel when your stomach rumbles! Or whatever. But those things don’t go away after the baby comes. And then they morph from being fun little bits of information to measuring sticks that stress you out, make you paranoid, and become the chatter of fellow parents.

And boy, are parents competitive. It’s subtle and wrapped in a tone that lifts at the end, like what’s being said is oh-so-friendly, but the judgement is there. “Soooo, Sunshine Sparklepants is walking already and doing long division with her toes. I see your little guy is still rolling around like a neanderthal and sucking his thumb. Have you checked with your doctor about that? Are you bringing him to Dance Your Face Off classes on Saturdays? I’d bet he’d build that leg strength up if you did…”

Okay, so maybe it’s a bit more subtle than that, but it’s insidious nonetheless. And we all can fall into it. Measuring our kid up to the neighbors, flaunting our kid’s special talents or developmental leaps, pointing out things in other children who we think *should* be further along.

But listen–we need to stop this. Only your family cares about little Susie’s musical genius on the xylophone. And when you’re rambling on about your kid’s greatness, you may be telling it to a parent who is worried out of their mind, dealing with developmental delays in their own child or doubting their own parenting skills because their kid is a few stages behind.

How do I know? Because I am that mom. My son has high-functioning autism and has some developmental delays. I was that mom who was obsessing over every little thing–why did he take an extra month to point? Is he smiling at me or is it just gas? Why isn’t he talking in sentences yet?

So when another mom would start yammering on about her child’s precociousness and asking me endless questions about what stage my son was at, it would just make me feel more worried about my child and more inadequate as a mother. Of course, those moms who said those things weren’t trying to be mean or worry me. But even if they didn’t intend it, a strong undercurrent of competitiveness and my-kid-is-better-than-yours is present. So stop and think before you pull out that measuring stick.

And be proud of wherever your child is on the scale. A victory for your child is a victory no matter if it’s two months before or two years behind the neighbor’s kid.

My four-year old…

is not potty trained yet

has trouble having back and forth conversations

can’t tell me how his day was at school

still has trouble falling asleep on his own at night

and has to be the one to open doors or he gets upset

BUT he also…

can read books at a first grade level

knows the names and capitals of all 50 states and their location on the map

can count to 50

taught himself his upper and lowercase alphabet, colors, and shapes at age 2

can remember how to get somewhere even when mommy can’t

and always can make me smile.

So you know what? To hell with those emails and walk away from those comparison conversations. Obviously, you need to be aware if your child has delays because you want to get help and early intervention when needed, but don’t ever let anyone make you feel like your child is less than or “wrong” because they’re on a different path than another. We’re all individuals on our own timeline. This isn’t a race. There is no prize for the kid who learns to roll over first.

*end rant*  🙂

Have you ever found yourself in one of those competitive parenting conversations? What did your child do slowly or quickly that made you have a parent freak out?

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I’m Roni Loren, or as I’m called ‘round these parts, No Drama Mama. I’ve been married for ten years and have a four-year old son, who has recently been diagnosed with high-functioning autism. My days are spent writing very sexy romances (my PC way of saying erotic),avoiding all things housework, and hanging out with a kidlet who I suspect is vastly smarter than I am. I secretly dream of having a life that looks like the pages of Real Simplemagazine, but would settle for Sorta Decent if could get there. My daily goal is to keep the drama on the pages of my books and out of my life–I’m successful at least twenty percent of the time. www.roniloren.com

The call

In the writing world we all know that “the call” is when an editor calls you and offers to buy your book. Getting that first call is exhilarating and scary and a myriad of other emotions. For many of us it’s a long time coming. For me, personally, I waited 7 years and in those years wrote 5 manuscripts before that first book sold (Courting Claudia, which is currently on sale for kindle & nook for $0.99) In any case it’s about as exciting a phone call as you can ever receive. But I’ve received a different kind of phone call.

It was really about this time last year, actually. The Professor and I had been through classes and all the licensing rigamarole you must go through in order to be approved as foster-to-adopt parents. Our social worker (for lack of a better thing to call her) had been in touch with me several times, presenting kiddo options. We’d said no to a few due to some issues we felt we weren’t prepared to handle and some we said yes to. Basically when you say yes they submit your home study and then a handful of people read through that and make a decision based on that. But back to the story…so it was about this time last year and our social worker called me to tell me about these two little girls and did I want to submit our home study. Well, The Professor was actually in class, but I didn’t need to consult with him, it seemed a reasonable enough situation to say yes to. And then the waiting began. I knew we would be working on a fast time line because their social worker wanted them placed like two weeks later.

So we waited and then we got THE CALL. Selling a book was damn exciting, but getting this call was way cooler. We were picked to be the girls’ parents. Of course we had some issues to deal with over the ensuing months (that’s another blog) but they would be ours. And we had exactly 7 days to get ready. Now most of you get a good 9 months to plan and prep for a baby. We had to plan and prep for a baby and a toddler in just a week. I didn’t get a shower, but plenty of my friends gave me gifts and hand-me-downs to help get me set-up. Much shopping ensued and we were ready when they got here. Okay, let me rephrase that, their room was ready, there was really no readiness (emotionally speaking) for us (but again, that’s another blog).

Tell me, how did you plan for your little ones? I’ll pick two commenters to win my first book, Courting Claudia. You can pick whether you get the kindle or nook version.

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I’m Robyn DeHart, AKA Basket-Case Mama, but not because I’m crazy (though really, what mom isn’t?) but because I have a slight obsession with baskets, well containers really. I’m a bit of an organization nut and I love to containerize stuff. And yes, I’m authorized to use words like that because I am also a writer. But back to the kids, so I’m mom to two ridiculously beautiful little girls and I can say that without bragging because I didn’t actually make them. Last year my husband, The Professor, and I adopted said little lovelies from the foster-care system here in Texas and now we’re a big happy forever family. Busybee is three and so full of joy it just oozes from her. Babybee is a walking-talking toddler who has a heck of a temper but is so cute, it almost keeps her out of trouble. Though neither of my girls are newborns, I’m fairly new to motherhood compared to the other peanut butter moms, but we’ve settled in as a family as if we’ve always been together. When I’m not trying to keep up with my two bundles of energy, you can usually find me on my laptop on Pinterest, no, that’s not right, um…you can find me writing, yes, that’s it, writing my latest historical romance. www.robyndehart.com

They Call Me Manic Mama

I don’t label things. When I hear the word routine, I don’t readily have a definition for it. I once had to take my son late to school because I couldn’t find my car keys anywhere. (They were in the folding cup holder in the mini-van OF COURSE).

When my husband and I got married we thought, let’s wait a few years (maybe five!) to start a family. This was a very good idea. It was smart. We were young (some of us very young. One might say ‘child bride’) we had a lot of time ahead. Plenty of time to become parents. So waiting was the plan.

Anyway, about six weeks into our marriage we found ourselves jobless, moving in with my parents and expecting our first child. (See, something went wrong in there somewhere… the beginning of a series of ‘life not going as planned’ moments.)

Fast forward a year and a half later and we had baby number two (planned, because OH IT WOULD BE SO FUN TO HAVE THEM CLOSE TOGETHER!) and then another two years after that, our little Diva Baby rounded out the Yates pack. In year five of our marriage we weren’t starting our family…we were having our third child.

(Side note: There are a lot of small people in our house. We realized, somewhat belatedly that having three kids meant we were outnumbered. An uprising is likely imminent, but we’re sure when they install a new system of governance they will be fair.)

Oh, we had plans. Plans of obtaining financial solvency and buying a home before having a child. Plans of me being a stay at home mom who cooked and cleaned and ironed sheets.

The hubby and I have learned a thing or two in the past seven years, and the biggest recurring theme seems to be that life doesn’t go according to our plans. We’ve also learned that that’s okay. That very often, when our path veers sharply to the left and into a bramble patch, there’s something way cooler on the other side.

Remember my plans of being a homemaker who vacuumed in high heels and made quiche? Yeah, not so much. During my pregnancy with my second son I discovered romance novels. And after discovering romance novels I discovered a burning desire to write them. So alpha billionaires pushed the quiche recipe out of my brain, and my focus landed on writing as a career. Which, sort of works out because when I made my original plan, I forgot I was a terrible housekeeper.

We didn’t plan on having kids so quickly. We didn’t plan on dealing with ADHD and autism. We didn’t plan on me having a career and my husband being a part time stay at home dad. (who is, depressingly, a way better housekeeper than I am.)

We also couldn’t have imagined how blissfully happy we would be. Or how all the the challenges, expected, unexpected, welcome and, frankly, unwelcome, would make us stronger as a couple and as a family.

If we hadn’t lost our jobs, I would never being doing this for a living. If we hadn’t had our first surprise baby, we would’ t have our beautiful family. If not for the hard times, we wouldn’t appreciate the good quite as much.

So you’ve heard about a few of the curve balls life has thrown me. What are the biggest surprises in your life that have turned out surprisingly wonderful?

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 Maisey Yates is a USA Today Bestselling author of sexy, angsty, funny romances and a terrible housekeeper. When she’s not writing books, you can find her reading them. If you CAN find her beneath the massive pile of unfolded laundry. Maisey has three kids (5, 4, & 2) one husband (who is a much better housekeeper than she is) and not a single dull moment. You can find her on twitter, Facebook and her website.

Motherhood Changes Everything

I think it was Cyndi Lauper who sang, “Money changes everything.” She could have easily sung, motherhood changes everything. If you had told me fifteen years ago I’d be excited about waking up Saturday morning and driving out to a strawberry farm to pick strawberries at 9 a.m., I would have thought you were crazy.

Motherhood changes everything.

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Shana Galen, Multitasker Mama
I’m Shana Galen, AKA Multitasker Mama (and aren’t we all?). I’m a wife, mom to a two-year-old daughter I call Baby Galen, and an historical romance writer. My husband and I have been married almost six years. I suffered a miscarriage before I had my daughter, and I think that made me pretty worried all through my pregnancy. That’s one possibility for why my daughter is so high strung. Or perhaps she’s just naturally very dramatic. We have a lot of drama in the Galen household, it seems. Even something like brushing one’s teeth can be a reason for a meltdown. But my parenting motto is, “Keep moving. Don’t pass out. Don’t throw up.” Or maybe that’s my fitness motto? www.shanagalen.com

The New Mom at the Park

When I became a mom, I don’t think I realized it was a club. You are not automatically granted membership simply because you have given birth. You must earn it through your sufferings. Woe to the mother who has an easy baby who sleeps through the night at two weeks, rarely cries, and never throws a toddler tantrum. Not only will you be despised, you will not be considered a real mom.

But that’s the subject of another blog—and probably not one for me because Baby Galen wasn’t an easy baby and isn’t an easy toddler. I have high hopes for the preschool years…

When Baby G was about 6 months old, I started taking her to the park, mainly because I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do with her all day long. She couldn’t walk or even crawl, but it took 15-20 minutes to walk there, I could sit her in a swing for 10-15 minutes, and then it was another 15-20 minutes back. So that was one hour out of the day covered.

Here’s the thing about the park that I slowly began to realize—all the moms there know one another. And all the nannies know one another. And the moms and nannies don’t talk. And the moms don’t talk to moms they don’t know. Oh, they might say hi and ask how old your little one is, but that’s just an obligatory thing when two kids are swinging next to one another.

I have never been an extrovert, so I didn’t think much of the other moms ignoring me. I didn’t have the energy to make much conversation anyway. But gradually, after months and months of going to the park at the same time every day, I saw the same moms and we became friends. We didn’t call each other on the phone, but we’d chat while pushing the swings or supervising play on the slides.

And then I moved.

I wasn’t far from my original park, but it was no longer within walking distance and the new park was really, really nice. But I can’t tell you how strange it was for me to walk into a new park and get all of these who-are-you looks from the moms and nannies already ensconced as regulars.

Once again I was ignored. This time I kind of minded because I missed my old park mom friends. But I figured I would make new mom friends. I didn’t realize it would take about 6 months. Seriously. We moved in March and it wasn’t until almost Halloween before the other moms started nodding at me and saying hi. And it might have taken longer if Baby G wasn’t so outgoing, telling all the little girls “hi” and forcing them to take whatever it is she’s trying to share with them that day.

And the worst part is that now I’m in, and when a new mom comes, I think, who is that and why are they at my park? Ugh! I so don’t want to be that mom!

So what do you think? Is there a mom’s club? Have you ever felt like the new mom or new employee or new exercise class participant?
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Shana Galen, Multitasker Mama
I’m Shana Galen, AKA Multitasker Mama (and aren’t we all?). I’m a wife, mom to a two-year-old daughter I call Baby Galen, and an historical romance writer. My husband and I have been married almost six years. I suffered a miscarriage before I had my daughter, and I think that made me pretty worried all through my pregnancy. That’s one possibility for why my daughter is so high strung. Or perhaps she’s just naturally very dramatic. We have a lot of drama in the Galen household, it seems. Even something like brushing one’s teeth can be a reason for a meltdown. But my parenting motto is, “Keep moving. Don’t pass out. Don’t throw up.” Or maybe that’s my fitness motto? www.shanagalen.com

What’s for dinner?

So The Professor is not so much a cook though he has his dishes he can provide (right now our schedule is twice a week that he’s in charge of dinner) and so that means twice a week we have breakfast (usually scrambled eggs) and DiGiornio pizza. Though we’re coming up on warmer days and well then he can grill outside and he makes a mean hamburger. So how about you? Is your husband a good cook and does he contribute to meal time?

How to make friends and influence people

My husband–The Geek–and I love to travel. In our life BC (before children), we took all sorts of exotic vacations, some of which involved castles and pubs, others of which involved sand and long lazy afternoons napping in the hotel. Needless to say, vacations are different now. (No, we haven’t done the D-word yet. That’s not what I mean.) Long flights are no longer an excuse to pack three books in my carry-on. Naps are a distant memory. Anything involving sand also involves buckets and seashells. The only castles are sand castles.

Still, we travel. It’s not as easy as it once was in our BC life. But it’s kinda more fun. There are benefits to traveling with kids and I feel lucky that we’ve

My kids on the zamboni machine at Frog Pond

had so many opportunities to do it. First off, people are really nice when you’re traveling with kids. I know, it seems counterintuitive, since everyone hates a crying baby on a plane, but it’s true. When you have kids with you, people are just nicer. They’re nicer while in route to your destination, but also as you’re traveling about the city you’re in. Kids help you make friends where ever you go. Or maybe that’s just my kids, ’cause they’ve never met a stranger.

We just got back from a trip to Boston, where The Geek had to go for business. On our first day, walking around Boston Commons, my kids oohed and aahed so much over the zamboni machine at Frog Pond, that the driver let them climb up onto the seat and have their picture taken. Then he showed them how it worked, which was cool, because I’ve always wondered myself. Riding the T around town, my son struck up a conversation with a businesswoman and her daughter. My daughter befriended a couple of college girls. And my son talked the ear off of a very disreputable looking, skate-punk kid. This was the kind of guy I probably would have edged away from if I’d been alone, but my son started with “Wow, I like your skateboard.” and by the time we got off four stops later, the skaterboy was showing off his environmently-friendly soy wheels. Those are the kinds of experiences that you can only have when you travel with children. I think it’s because kids have a natural ability to disarm people. Even people who would normally treat strangers with distant politeness seem to open up around kids. Kids are natural ambassadors.

Does this look like a guy I ever would have chatted with if I hadn't had a kid with me?

Plus, I just love sightseeing with kids. There’s nothing quite like the joy and excitement with which they experience everything. Would I have gone to the Harvard Museum of Natural History if I’d been traveling with just the Geek? Maybe. Would I have felt the same heady excitement at the sight of the Smilodon fossils? Probably not. Would I have stood in the Great Mammal Hall staring up in wonderment at the three  whale skeletons hanging from the rafters? Maybe, but not with the same glee.

You see, kids disarm people and they disarm us, their parents, most of all. Yes, sometimes traveling with them is difficult. You never quite get to relax. You’re constantly counting heads and shushing squeals. But I love getting to see the world through a child’s eye. I love the excitement and thrill they get from seeing something new. For me, that makes all of the stress of traveling with kids worth it.

What about you? Do you travel with your kids? If you do, what do you love about it?

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I’m Emily McKay, AKA The Hippie Chick Mama. Why Hippie Chick? Well, ’cause I’m one of the those organic-veggie-eating, raw-milk-drinking, yoga-practicing … okay, you get the idea. I’ve got two kiddos. The McDaughter is in the first grade and the McSon just turned four. My husband, The Geek, travels a lot and works with robots and Legos. No, seriously, it’s a real job. I love to cook and bake. When I’m not cleaning up after kids or doing laundry, I write for Harlequin Desire, YA Romcoms under the name of Ivy Adams, and paranormal YA for Berkley.

Friday Fun: The Joy of Laughter

Happy Friday, everyone! =)

First, SuperGirl sleep update from the Midnight Mama household! As most of you know, after a terrible windstorm about a month or so ago, my 2yo became afraid of the wind and, even worse…sleeping! We would have to stay in her room until she fell asleep, and then if she got up in the middle of the night for any reason, would have to do it again then. We tried pretty much everything to reverse this, but nothing worked. After one particularly bad night when SuperGirl got up three or four times in the middle of the night (which, yes, meant me staying in her room for an hour each time for her to go back to sleep…and yes, I might have been *this close* to shedding tears), the next day hubby took my old idea (which he’d been against in the past, lol) and we moved the girls into the same room.

And guess what?!? IT’S WORKING!!! The first night there was some crying, yes, but I didn’t have to stay in the room until SuperGirl went to sleep. As soon as I close the door, they both quiet. If WonderGirl wakes up in the middle of the night, SuperGirl just goes back to sleep while I change WG’s diaper. And last night–oh, last night–they both slept through the night! *does the Midnight Mama dance* (If you’re wondering what that looks like, well… lol. Maybe one day I’ll record it for a Friday Fun post. 😉 )

Anyway, to celebrate the preservation of my sanity and this wonderful accomplishment, I wanted to share this video today. It was very popular last year, but it’s worth watching again. Today one of the cousins came over today to play and as I was listening to SuperGirl laugh (that big kind of belly laugh), it made me remember when we first heard her real laughter…when she and her dad were building a tower out of blocks and she knocked it down. =)

Here’s the video. Prepare to smile. And I bet you end up laughing, too. =)

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I’m Elise Rome, AKA Midnight Mama because I’m usually burning the midnight oil. If SuperGirl (2, with a speech delay) and WonderGirl (1, my very own hip attachment) aren’t getting up in the middle of the night, then I’m busy working on writing and writing-related business until early morning…usually 3-4 am or so. Both my husband and I stay home with the girls (he’s a writer, too! www.lukasholmes.com), but usually I’m focused on them throughout the day and only get started working until after 8pm when they’re both in bed. I’m a former Texan now living in Colorado who desperately misses no-snow winters, and my parenting goal is to raise my daughters to be strong, intelligent, and independent women…much like the heroines I write, as a matter of fact. I’m a recovering perfectionist, recovering procrastinator, and perpetually aspire to keep the house clean (because it never actually is). When I’m not chasing around my daughters or adoring my cooking/cleaning/diaper-changing husband of 8 years, I write historical romances about women who fascinate me and men who somehow always remind me of Rhett Butler, the first literary hero who captured my heart. www.eliserome.com