Well Twitter this! Here it is almost Easter and I'm just now posting a Christmas photo and haven't blogged in months.

In February I celebrated 15 years of being cancer free.

I've been busy, but it appears these days you've not really done anything of importance unless you post it on line for friends, colleagues and significant strangers to read about.

Bragging, oops I meant marketing ones self has apparently gone main stream.

My pretty and hip thirty something neighbor sent me an invitation to WAYN.com, my friend, colleague and Internet provider Steve, guilted me into joining Linkedin.com, and my friend and former flight attendant colleague Debbie, told me to go to Facebook.com, where I can see all the places she's been now that's she's based in Paris, France.

Then there's Twitter- who thought of that? Had to be a man- a young, innocent and yet to be jaded by life man. "What are you doing?" What was he thinking, cause I'm thinking Twittering is going to get a lot of people in big trouble.

The problem I have with blogging is more than half the things I'd like to vent - I meant write about I can't. Well, I could but it wouldn't help book sells, win friends or make my family happy.

Oh, and just in case I get tired of sitting in the comfort of my own home, cozying up to the laptop as I Twitter other peoples lives, my friend Ellen was kind enough to yank me out of the house by inviting me to join Meetup.com, a network of local groups of any and all descriptions meeting in a location near you. All I had to do was go on line and type in my own zip code.

Tonight, if I can tear myself away from the Internet I'll be in Raleigh, NC, attending the Susan G. Komen North Carolina volunteer orientation meeting. It's not a meetup, just a meeting. Depending on how you look at it, I'm too busy or too boring to find time to Blog, much less Twitter.

In a year wrought with emotional upheaval, my mother-in-law Shirley Frahm was as always a pillar of strength, and after everything I’d gone through with my own mother, I did not want to miss an opportunity to let my husband’s mother know we loved her.

So shortly after writing my Mother’s Day Blog, my children and I drove down to Raeford, North Carolina, from our home in Apex, to visit her. I had to call first, because even at age 82, Grandma Frahm had several volunteer jobs, and a work ethnic that put people half her age to shame.

This would be our last visit before she was diagnosed with lung cancer, and I am so grateful I did not put it off. It was one of those times when I was trying to gift someone else, but in hindsight the gift was mine.

Our family matriarch died at her home Sunday morning, August 17, 2008 surrounded by the love of her family.

None of us were surprised she died on a Sunday as only Heaven could prevent Grandma Frahm from attending church. The world lost a good woman, and I lost an extraordinary mother-in-law.

By some quirk of fate instead of being saddled with the Mother-in-Law from Hell, I got the Mother-in-law from Heaven.

God knows what a guilty pleasure it is to complain about a mother-in-law, and I love to complain, but the most irksome thing about my mother-in-law was she didn’t give you anything to contribute when privy to a mother-in-law bashing contest. We all adored her.

Etched in my mind is how her eyes sparkled with amusement, the first time we met, in the kitchen of her house, as all nine of her children, the grandchildren, and a few family friends, traipsed in and out of the back door, and were proudly introduced to the girl, her middle son brought home from Texas.

My niece, JJ, was just a child back then, but she had such an expression of curiosity, reassurance, and pity on her face- I knew immediately I would love her- she got that empathy from her grandmother.

By the time we sit down, to say grace I had realized my future mother-in-law didn’t raise just one outstanding child, but eight others as well. After almost 20 years of being a part of the Frahm family, I still feel that way, and that is the miracle of Shirley Frahm.

I did not grow up in North Carolina, and very few of my Southern Baptist family members got to meet my devout Catholic mother-in-law, but boy, were they curious, and in awe of the woman who sired nine children, and one of them, a man capable of loving me.
I have always told them, “She’s they type of woman who raised nine children successfully, and could have raised nine more with one hand tied behind her back.”

Despite my admiration, it was not until March 26, 1992; I truly reciprocated the depth of my mother-in-law’s love. That day I gave birth to my son Jordan, and it finally clicked how difficult it must have been to entrust someone you love so much to another woman, how heartwrenching for her, and what a gift she had given me. Could any woman ever love the man as much as I loved that precious baby boy? I doubted it.

Grandma died with her tongue in tact, but it had to have been calloused from all the times she bit it and/or held it. She had a gift for diplomacy, and the ability to be nonjudgmental which I see in my daughter, Tabitha, and an innate goodness she passed on to my husband Randy, and son Jordan.

She also bestowed upon all nine of her children her arrogant good looks. Neither she nor her children are arrogant people, but they are a proud family, and never prouder than when they are all together. It can be a bit much for anyone not related to us, and some of us who are. As one of the younger family members pointed out recently, the Uncles are much nicer than they look.

Due to his arrogant good looks, I didn’t see my future husband’s innate goodness immediately. I had a Public Relations job at a nuclear plant, in Bay City, Texas. On numerous occasions I had bumped into Randy in passing, had nodded, or said hello. He had not as much as blinked acknowledgment. (I finally understand. My epitome came while raising our son.)

Outside of work, I couldn’t help but notice him at the local beach, he had a colorful catamaran, and he, and his boat were always surrounded by at least a half-dozen bikini clad sailboat groupies, which I presumed explained his conceited behavior.

While out with friends at a local club one night, an acquaintance, asked if he could introduce me to a friend of his who would like to meet me, and pointed to Randy. The poor man received an earful of wrath. I told him in no uncertain terms not to bother, as I had seen this guy around, and found him vain, condescending, and arrogant.

I was a 28 year old working girl, and friends, colleagues, most of my family members, and I had concluded I wasn’t marriage material. I wasn’t exactly looking for love when Randy walked up, and demanded to know why I would think he was arrogant.

I had never heard him speak until that moment, and it was the deepest, sexiest voice I had ever heard, and to my surprise- because I just knew he was from up North- he had a southern accent. It was before Thanksgiving, and he explained he was on his way home, to Raeford, North Carolina. Somewhere during our conversation he went on to drawl the words that changed my opinion of him, and ultimately my destiny, when he told me he was looking forward to going home and eating a slice of “my mamma’s pecan pie.”

A simple little sentence, he doesn’t even remember took my breath away, for in it he conveyed the love, admiration, and respect he had for his mother, and I knew intuitively this man would respect me too.

It would be months before we were seriously dating and a year later before I would accompany him home to Raeford at Thanksgiving- to meet Shirley Frahm, but when anyone has ever asked me when I thought I fell in love with Randy – my mind goes back to that night, and the way he said, “my mamma’s pecan pie” and somewhere in my journals I have written this down for my children. Along with the unsolicited advice, that the best indication of a good man is his mamma.

It’s been a year filled with emotional and sometimes turbulent life changes. I’ve been every bit the Cancer-tankerous Mommy I wrote about in the book- only this time it’s not cancer or Meds- it’s just me being my mean ole self.

My husband’s career had us in Texas last summer, but before summer had ended he was on his way to Alabama, and the kids and I back to North Carolina. We’re together, we’re just not living together- we’re a commuter family. When he’s not flying to North Carolina, I’m flying to Alabama or Florida where my parents live.

Our daughter, Tabitha graduated high school mid-semester this year, and enrolled in college. I feel fortunate; somehow I’ve managed not to run her off- yet. North Carolina State where she attends college is just a short distance, and Tabitha lives at home. She is majoring in psychology and plans to be a Psychiatrist. Not a surprise-she’s already done the research- as life with her own family isn’t always easy.

Some of my friends have confessed they couldn’t wait for their kids to leave the nest- I’m not one of them. I've been advised to enjoy the moments I have now, but I haven't taken that advice. I’ve been down right bitchy about it. My husband made the mistake of attempting to make me feel better by reminding me, in two years both children would be in college, and we could easily move to wherever his career takes him. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was thinking it would be the first time we’d move without our kids. It didn’t make me happy!

I could pretend as a cancer survivor, I am exempt from such feelings, because I realize how lucky I am to have had these years- watch my children grow up, and grow old with the ones I love- but I would be lying.

I am grateful, to celebrate Mother’s Day this year, surrounded by my children, and with the knowledge my mother is still with me, but this year I got a glimpse of life without them, and was not prepared.

My mother, Amelia Patricia Solomon a.k.a. Granny Pat of Walnut Hill, Florida is alive, and while not completely well, is finally home after months in a hospital, and is recovering from a near fatal bout of Bacterial Meningitis diagnosed as Pneumococcal Meningitis.

I will not forget my mother looking at me, her only daughter, without recognition. Nor will I forget the the moment I knew she recognized me. In a year filled with heart wrenching good byes- what a relief when my mamma said hello.

This year I said good bye to my paternal aunt, Juanita Pacetti- a best friend, confidante and on occasion surrogate mother. High School graduation meant saying good bye to my little girl; all too soon she’s become a young woman. Faced with my mother’s life threatening illness, I was forced to say good bye to my own childish self. Abruptly, my siblings, and I were required to face facts- our parents are elderly, and we are now the grown ups.

It's been a year filled with emotional and turbulent life changes. I would like to write I have handled them with dignity, grace, and courage- but the older I get the less inclined I feel to whitewash the truth.

I’ve had to say good bye to people, places, and parts of myself that can no longer exist.
Undignified, inept, and scared is how I’ve felt much of the year.

Recently my 16 year old son, Jordan told me, (after a brief outing where I sat in the passenger seat while he drove) “You’re like one of those really old people who appear to be crazy – but it’s because they’re so old. Only you do it, and you’re not even that old- YET! You’re just crazy.”

Well at least I'm not a sissy.

One of the Mother’s Day cards I purchased this year reads- Mother’s Day Is Not For Sissies.

No, it's for women like me and the one who mothered me.

Happy Mother's Day Granny Pat!

www.ebonyangelsmc.com

Tickles Tabitha, along with the Chick-Fil-A Cow, and Ebony Angels made an appearance at the Susan G. Komen Fundraiser held at Bobby Murray Chevrolet in Raleigh, North Carolina, during October/Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

I’m tickled pink to show off our Tickles Tabitha character and announce that we’re bringing Cancer Education to the classroom. Nutcracker Publishing is presenting CRACK OPEN A BOOK© the first cancer education program to be offered to elementary students.

We’re cracking open Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy; trying on wigs, playing doctor, learning about good manners, and character traits such as kindness, and courage, while discussing the issues that affect children when a parent is diagnosed with cancer.

I know many of you will be surprised to read it’s the first time cancer education has been offered to elementary students, but Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy has not always been welcomed amongst the mainstream, and certainly not in elementary school.

In 1994, when I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. talking about cancer to my own children was considered a radical idea, and talking about it to an elementary classroom was un-imaginable.

Now, Tickles Tabitha is going to school and taking her book with her.

CRACK OPEN A BOOK and the Tickles Tabitha character will also be available to health care centers, cancer awareness organization, or anyone wishing to promote cancer awareness.

I know from personal experience that creating a dialogue to talk about cancer or any issue helps alleviate anxiety and contributes to emotional and physical good health and that's what CRACK OPEN A BOOK is designed to do.

When I published Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy in October 2001, I was advised, cancer was a niche topic, young women with children didn't usually get cancer, and no parent wanted to read their children a book like that. Despite that it caught the attention of the media immediately and went on to be recognized across the country as recommended reading for families coping with cancer.

While I received invitations to talk to students about reading, writing, or the publishing process, I was never asked to talk to students about cancer.

It's only within the last few years that public perception has shifted regarding some of the often whispered issues pertaining to cancer. Public figures like “Good Morning America" anchor Robin Roberts, White House press secretary, Tony Snow, and Elizabeth Edwards, wife of Democratic presidential contender John Edwards, have drawn attention to this change of attitude.

When I approached parents in my community this year and asked if their children could participate in my focus group, and told them the topic was cancer, they didn't blink.

After having walked a step ahead of the beat for more than a decade, I'm somewhat relieved to discover the mainstream appears willing to quit whispering, stop tiptoeing and start educating our children about issues surrounding cancer.

Yesterday was Mother's Day and I awoke to find a handmade card from my daughter on the breakfast table. On the outside it said, "Happy Mother's Day" and on the inside it said, "from the child who cares! Love, Tabitha."



I laughed, I knew she'd tried to get her brother, Jordan to help her with the card and he wouldn't do it.



Jordan usually comes up with a verse then Tabitha does the artwork. My husband and I have some wonderful cards they've created. But Jordan refused to participate this Mother's Day and his sister wasn't happy about it.



She's going to make a perfect wife and mother one day- I can tell by the guilt she helped me heap on her brother! So instead of a greeting card, Jordan was guilted into giving me a foot massage. I love being a mother!



Every time I blog I vow not to wait so long to blog the next time, but like most mothers my life is busy. I'm grateful for the hectic, busy lifestyle of a woman with children. All to quickly mine have grown up.



I miss having young children and it's one reason Nutcracker Publishing Company hosts, "Hunt for a Cure" a community Easter Egg Hunt where proceeds are donated to our local Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure team. http://www.komennctriangle.org



This year when the Easter Bunny hopped down our lane, he was joined by Tickles Tabitha.



Both my children were born in the spring and at our house Easter kicks off the social season. We've been celebrating and my waistline reflects it. I've enjoyed my children's birthdays, my brother-in-law Andy's retirement ceremony from the Navy, Tabitha's and Jordan's Confirmation, our neighbor's First Holy Communion and Tabitha's Prom and of course, Jordan's getting his driver's permit.



To be honest, the last two were what I'd call stress eating events, rather than celebratory suppers, at least for me.



Did I mention my husband is on a job located in Texas and he flies in only ever 2-3 weeks?



Luckily there's a Harris Teeter down the road and when life gets tough I get chocolate.



Happy Cancer-tankerous Mommy's Day!

Time goes by so quickly. It’s busy at our house. I’ve been writing – just not Blogging. I had a group of neighbor kids over and they were my Focus Group for some of the activities I’ve incorporated into my school program curriculum. My teenagers videotaped the event and the kids were so wonderful and well behaved that I couldn’t help but think anyone watching would think it was staged. But…then one child announced that her entire family was crazy and another agreed and told us that her friend’s Daddy put crayons up his nose.

My little focus group ranged from pre-K to 4th Grade. We read my children’s book, played games, discussed cancer, and talked about how it affected families. I didn’t have to define cancer to a single child because they knew what it was and several had experienced it first hand because a family member had been diagnosed with cancer.

Yesterday, in the midst of planning Nutcracker Publishing’s 2nd Annual Easter Egg, Hunt for a Cure, I stopped to watch Democratic presidential contender, John Edwards and his wife Elizabeth’s press conference regarding her recurrence of breast cancer.

It’s been 13 years since I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and I still feel queasy when I step into any doctor’s office for a routine breast exam or blood work.

Elizabeth Edwards was candid, gracious, and handling her recurrence of breast cancer with what I know to be a Cancer-tankerous Mommy’s attitude. She’s not going to be waiting to die, but instead is hitting the rode for her husband, and campaigning with cancer.

She’s not wallowing in pity either and I know cancer survivors everywhere sighed with relief when she announced her plans to continue to campaign.

Her honesty and candor about her breast cancer has helped so many families. Like the families of the children in my focus group.

A couple of years ago, it would have been unimaginable for me to invite the neighbor kids over for a school program party with a focus on cancer, much less enter a public school and talk to elementary students about cancer. Back when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, talking about it to my own young children was not exactly encouraged, and most well meaning adults tiptoed around the issue.

Next year I'll officially introduce Crack Open a Book©, Nutcracker Publishing’s Character Education School Program and I’ll be talking to elementary students about CANCER.

Thanks to the courage of women like Elizabeth Edwards the only tiptoeing around the issue I’ll do is a Cancer-tankerous inspired game called, Tiptoe to Mama.

HOLLA! Literacy Festival
Helping Loved Ones Learn & Acheive!
http://www.wadesboro.com/

I'll be guest speaking at the HOLLA! Literacy Festival in Wadesboro, North Carolina, Saturday, February 3, 2007.

I've been asked to talk about my experiences as a Publisher and Crack Open A Book©, Nutcracker Publishing’s new school program promoting Literacy and Character Education, and introducing our life-sized, Tickles Tabitha character.

I wish Rosie O Donnell would pick on me; I could use the publicity.

Many of you know that in October of 2001, I won what for any writer, much less an unknown, one-woman independent self-publisher, was the equivalent of winning the lottery- an appearance to promote my book, Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy on the Rosie O Donnell Show.

Suddenly I went from being the town idiot, who’d invested hard-earned money to start a business she knew absolutely nothing about, so she could publish a children’s book-- God forbid-- about a mean ole Mommy with CANCER, to a nationally recognized Expert.

I was still teetering to obtain balance on the publicity pedestal when I got knocked off and onto my butt by the Anthrax virus. Anthrax had been found in NBC studios at Rockefeller Plaza where the O Donnell show aired and my appearance was cancelled.

It was devastating, humiliating, and a crushing blow to my mother, mother-in-law, and other significant others who’d bragged to their friends about my upcoming appearance.

It was an even bigger disappointment for all those pretend friends, snooty relatives, and colleagues (you know who you are) who were hoping to see me make a fool of my self on national television.

As for me my non-appearance on the Rosie O Donnell Show was the best publicity my book and publishing company has ever received.

A press release about my non appearance was picked up by the wire and I got calls from across the country. I didn’t make it to NYC but my book did and O Donnell recommended it on her show and gave copies to her studio audience.

Today I realize an endorsement from Rosie is just too old school. I've concluded the best thing Rosie O Donnell could do for an author is insult them publicly.

I'm no longer aspiring to guest on The View instead all I ask is that Rosie say she hates Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy and the witch who wrote it.

Come on Rosie, feud with me.

I’ve got several thousand copies of Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy I’d like to sell. Not to mention, the "real" Tickles Tabitha is all grown up and with a few nasty remarks from you, I might could afford to send her to college.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I have much to be thankful for. I have a life most people envy and yet I'm not always grateful. I tend to focus on what I still would like to do or need to do rather than what I've managed to accomplish already. Once I reach a goal I'm never satisfied, there's always something else I'm aspiring to do.

Some cancer survivors say cancer made them slow down, live in the moment, and smell the roses- not me. Time is short and I've a lot I'd like to do before I die. I've come to realize I'm happiest when I'm overwhelmed.

If you can identify with any of this perhaps you have what it takes to publish a children's book.

This month I thought I'd Blog about my experiences as a publisher. It's the perfect topic to remind me I've a lot to be grateful about.

Not a month goes by that I'm not queried by an aspiring writer who would like to publish a children's book and I always try to respond. If you're one of them I'd like you to know I've been where you're at, know what it's like and would never tell another aspiring writer not to go for it.

I apologize if anything you read here sounds condescending. I'm certainly not a genius and from what I've seen in this business you could be a creative writer, expert marketer, highly successful business owner, and still fail at publishing especially when you’re publishing a children's book. On the other hand, that nerd you took one look at and dismissed just might be a publishing genius.

Much depends on what your expectations are - if you simply would like to be published, and have the funds, getting your book published is not a problem. What you need is a Vanity Press Publisher and for a fee they'll be happy to publish your book.

However, if you desire to see your book reviewed by literary critics, acknowledged as legit within the publishing industry and attainable by bookstores and/or libraries across the country- well it's a little more complicated.

It takes a lot of hard work but I also believe there's an element of luck involved which perhaps explains why some awful books get a lot of attention and some wonderful books never hit a bookstore.

I started laying the ground work for publishing my book a year before anyone ever heard of it. My company/book took off after I received an invitation to appear on the Rosie O Donnell Show. While I'd like to think it was my compelling pitch that landed the gig I know that national TV shows receive 100's if not 1000's of compelling pitches from veteran PR persons and expert authors far more credible than I was at that time, but I was lucky enough to be selected.

Time and again I've found my self in the right place at the right time or I've waited until the time was right. My manuscript collected dust for years and when I finally dusted it off it was during a time when the media began to devote attention to the emotional issues pertaining to children and cancer and my book was one of the first of its type. I really believe publishing Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy was something I was meant to do, which is why I've been able to find my way around some seemingly impenetrable obstacles.

As they say, ignorance is bliss and nothing could have deterred me from trying to get my book published. Today I know that over 90% of all children's books fail to make it and that's without factoring in a niche topic like cancer.

Most people think writing and publishing a children's book is easy. Children's books appear so simple but it's their simplicity that makes them more difficult to write and even more difficult to publish.

The best way, to get a book published if you're a novice is to find a large, mainstream publishing company to purchase your book idea.

That's the best way- but it's not the easiest, unless you happen to co-host The View, you're a rap singer, or have some other celebrity status. I did not, which is why I decided to establish the Nutcracker Publishing Company and publish my own book.

Publishing, I now know, is not as much about writing a book that people enjoy as it is about marketing it, and marketing is not just about public relations or getting the media's attention. Publishing is a double edged sword- you need publicity to get the attention of the public, but publicity is worthless if you're book's not available to purchase from bookstores, distributors and via the internet.

If despite what I've written, what people say, or the size your bank account, you still want to see your book published more than anything- then you'll find a way to do it. Ask questions, read everything you can about it, and don't give anybody a dime until you've read what's blogged about them on the internet. If you still have questions, or need to vent, send me an e-mail.

Much has changed since I first published Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy, but one thing remains true, it's still one of the experiences I'm most grateful and thankful I've had the opportunity to pursue.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer over a decade ago at age 34. My children were two and four years old. I didn't want my children to feel as if their mother's Breast Cancer was something to be whispered about - or we were to be pitied or they should feel ashamed.

Back then there were no on-line cancer support groups to seek out; the computer as we know it didn't exist. Even the professionals that diagnosed me seemed to think of Breast Cancer as a disease for older women- not an active young mother of two toddlers.

I always manage to do things that it takes at least a decade for the mainstream (not to mention my mother and her friends) to embrace. Like getting married at age 29 for the first time when most my peers had been married a decade or were entering a second marriage. Just when having a daughter who was a career girl became a bragging point I was a stay- at- home Mom. Not that my mother cared for years she’d complained she was the only person in her high school graduating class who didn’t have a grandchild. The clock was ticking and I will never forget being the oldest pregnant woman in my Lamaze class at the ripe old age of 30.

Today I realize I was not the only woman to be a step ahead or behind the beat of time but when I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 34 most my peers were dealing with issues pertaining to childbirth and looking forward to a future filled with optimism. Breast Cancer replaced my family’s optimistic future with a question mark of uncertainty and worry.

Needless to say I felt isolated and very alone but that experience is what led me to write Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy and establish the Nutcracker Publishing Company.

In so many ways my life resembles a T.V. sitcom. In hindsight I can laugh about a lot that’s happened but believe me when you’re living it it’s not near as funny.

Once a well meaning reviewer, who rejected my book idea, told me the Mommy in my story was too mean. Once again I was just a head of popular perception because in today's reality TV world my Cancer-tankerous Mommy would be considered just a desperate housewife with breast cancer.

I like to think Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy is about how a family with cancer really acts as opposed to how you think they should act.

For the past few months I've been at work on a power point presentation and a costumed Tickles Tabitha character. Finally! After all these years I’m in vogue with the times. Tickles Tabitha's mean ole Mommy is not being told to shush but is actually being encouraged to talk about CANCER.

This year for the first time I'll be offering a school presentation to promote literacy and character education which features Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy called "Crack Open a Book" to elementary classrooms. Not just to children with a family member diagnosed with cancer but to all children.

My own children are now teenagers but I'll never forget what we went through as a family. I'm grateful that times have changed since the days of my own diagnosis and like to think that families like mine are one of the reasons.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

Hope you're tickled pink!

Amelia

I just realized I sent a version of this out to an AOL Blog saying: Hope you’re ticked pink! Oopps!

I love summer vacations spent with my children and feel a twinge of sadness with each new school year. Just yesterday it seems my son Jordan, my youngest, told me and his sister Tabitha that he’d had a “bad day” in Kindergarten.

This year my Baby, who’s now taller than his mother is a high school freshman surrounded by kids he’d never met until this school year. So far he appears to be enjoying himself. He’s making friends, likes the classes, teachers, and even the “crazy” girl he’s sitting next to in English class is tolerable.

I still have a vivid picture in my mind of Jordan in the hall at St. Anastasia’s School in Hutchinson, Minnesota where he went to Kindergarten. He was happily carrying what for a little boy was a large pumpkin and carrying it very well until he saw his Mommy. Suddenly his entire demeanor changed and he dramatically let the pumpkin roll out of his arms onto the floor and slumped to his knees in utter exhaustion. Despite a much anticipated field trip to the local pumpkin patch, he’d had another “bad day.”

Like most young children who’ve spent all day at school trying to be good, when he arrived on his home turf it was time to vent. Jordan’s “bad day” never officially began until I picked him up. I had seen him in action at school and I, my school spies, and his teacher all agreed he loved it. He also loved evoking his Mom’s attention and empathy. His sister was not so sympathetic, and she immediately called him on it.

Tabitha and I still laugh about how Jordan would insist I ask him how his day went, everyday after school – just so he could tell me how bad it was. It didn’t take him long to figure out my pity was less than sincere and we were laughing behind his back at his theatrics. Jordan likes to make people laugh as long as they're laughing with him and not at him - so by first grade, when I asked about his day he’d learned to share what was good about it.

Now both my children are in high school.

I still remember being a student myself in Mrs. Stone’s civics class at Ernest Ward High School in Walnut Hill, Florida, watching the clock tick and wishing the bell would ring. I couldn’t wait to graduate from high school. Time stood still when I was a teenager as I’m sure it does for my own children but once you’re a parent it’s never slow enough.

Yesterday, I talked with my Uncle Jim Cox about how quickly time goes by. His wife, Loretta, my maternal aunt who I affectionately knew as Aunt Sissy died recently of ovarian cancer. He said, they’d been married for 45 years and 13 days and it wasn’t long enough.

I told Tabitha what he said and then asked, “You think you’re Daddy would say that? We looked at each other and both started laughing. No! Well I told her we’ve only been married for 17 years; I got 28 to work on it!

My children and I are getting ready to take a road trip. We’re driving to Florida to visit my parents then on to Texas to visit friends, family members, and my former colleagues.

So the past few weeks I’ve not taken time out to blog. I’ve been trying to get things accomplished before our trip.

I’m working on another children’s book this one is about nuclear power. I announced my intentions a while ago on my website. It was my ‘Field of Dreams’ statement. You know if I say it I’ll have to do and if I do it they’ll want it and so on.

This past week I decided the kids and I would take an educational excursion and visit the Shearon Harris Nuclear Power Plant which is located not far from my home in Apex, North Carolina.

My son Jordan, wasn’t too happy about taking time out of his summer for anything educational but after touring the Shearon Harris Visitor’s Center and meeting Kim Crawford, our host and Progress Energy’s Community Outreach Director he admits it was interesting and Kim was especially nice, it was nothing like he thought it would be.

He probably thought Kim would be mean like his mother and force him to read a children’s book manuscript about nuclear power plants.

Too many years ago, I worked at the South Texas Project Nuclear Power Plant’s Visitor’s Center located in Bay City, Texas.

I’ve had to re-educate myself while writing my Nuke book and Kim’s been a great help- this was the first time we’ve met in person.

If you live in North Carolina you can call Kim via Progress Energy to arrange a program or tour about Nuclear Power Plants. My kids are 14 and 16 years old and both enjoyed the films and exhibits.

I have to admit one of the best things about being an author/publisher is the people I meet along the way.

Like Beverly Vote the dynamic and busy editor of Breast Cancer Wellness Magazine: Empowering Mind-Body-Spirit. The magazine focuses on the difficult challenges that come from being diagnosed with cancer.

She’d posed the question- How does a terminally ill breast cancer patient prepare her family for a life without her?

How does anyone? It’s an uncomfortable question and in my opinion the best time to pose it- is long before it’s necessary.

You can read my article, Children Might Not Understand Death, But they Understand Love, in the summer edition of Breast Cancer Wellness Magazine, Pages 26-27, the magazine is available on-line at www.breastcancerwellness.org

This week it was also my pleasure to be a guest author on Mom Writer’s Talk Radio. It’s an online talk show which airs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week around the globe. Paula Schmitt, author of Living in a Locker Room and Alana Morales, author of Domestically Challenged host the show. My interview will begin airing July 21rst.

You can find out how to hear it by tuning into their website: www.MomWritersTalkRadio.com

For all close personal friends and relatives who might be reading this –and especially Andrew Toperzer, my former neighbor boy who lived next door to me in Minnesota, yes-they have other authors besides me you can listen to- but believe it or not some people find me fascinating!

As Andrew so callously pointed out when he was about 13 years old (13 year old boys know everything) and I had just returned from a speaking event- only the people who don’t know you.

Andrew’s who’s now 17 is coming for a visit when we return from our road trip; it appears I’m a lot more fascinating now that I live down South and not right next door.

As my daughter Tabitha would say- c’est la vie.

Last week Tisha Powell our Raleigh/Durham ABC News Anchor/Reporter and Camera man, Darell Pryor came to my house and did a taped interview that was aired this week.

When it aired my husband, Randy and my children the real Tabitha and Jordan and I sit down to watch. I’m at that phase in life where looking fat and middle aged on television has surpassed sounding like a blubbering idiot as my not so secret greatest fear.

Besides I’ve done TV and radio enough to know that reporters like Tisha know how to put you at ease, ask just the right questions, and save you from yourself if necessary. Thanks to Tisha and Darell’s flawless editing I thought I sounded just like the articulate expert I’m supposed to be and my husband agreed.

Of course my husband is even older than I am and besides by now he’s learned saying anything critical about his wife’s TV appearances would be like answering the question, do I look fat in these jeans, with an honest answer. So I know his opinion can’t be trusted.

No, when I want honesty I can always depend on my Minnesota boy. My son Jordan, who his sister will tell you has no common sense, tact, nor despite living in North Carolina for the past few years has yet learned to be Southern. Jordan has the IQ of a genius but the concept of a white lie escapes him. He’s going to be in big trouble one day- unless his significant other has a skinny butt.

In the interview I told Tisha that pretty much everything depicted in Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy really did happen. Except for the part about me losing my hair, I didn’t lose my hair, but my girl-friend Laura who died of Leukemia did (lose hair)
and she was the reason it’s pictured in my book.

According to Jordan - who’s in middle school which explains a lot- I probably should have said my friend instead of my girl-friend. If he didn’t know better he might think I was gay. After all nothing was mentioned about a husband just my girl-friend and my family.

My husband and I just looked at each other and started laughing. Perhaps Jordan does have a point because I couldn’t picture Randy saying my boyfriend when talking about one of his friends.

I couldn’t help myself, I said, well now you know Jordan, you’re mother’s a lesbian. It’s good to be out of the closet. Then I really got the giggles.

At Tabitha’s high school they’d probably say something like- “You’re Mom came out of the closet on TV? Cool!”

Jordan however, would probably need to be home schooled. Like I said he’s in middle school.

He and Tabitha didn’t find me all that funny. My children will tell you they don’t have a problem with gays or lesbians.

There problem is their mother.

Tabitha accuses me of being unctuous. Yes, she’s got quite the vocabulary and although I knew what she was implying, I still had to look it up.

Unc-tu-ous- Characterized by affected, exaggerated, or insincere earnestness. That would be me.

They’ll ask to do something there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m going to let them do. Like go out to eat after I’ve bothered to cook a meal, or my personal favorite, let’s get another dog?

Instead of saying NO! I'll say, “why don't we?” Or-“ how a--bout it?!”

It annoys them immensely which is why I enjoy it.
Even more enjoyable to me and annoying to them was coming out of the clothes closet. (Yes, Jordan I know it’s closet not clothes closet, I don’t care.)

I’m an Unctuous Lesbian Mama. Move over Rosie O Donnell.

I’m sending the producers at The View a copy of my interview with Tisha.

After this season’s final episode of Desperate Housewives it appears as if the Applegate’s house on Wisteria Lane might be vacant-- but not for long. Edie is hammering in a sold sign and Cancer-tankerous Mommy is loading up the moving van.
Cancer-tankerous Mommy will fit in well on Wisteria Lane and like her desperate neighbors she’ll give women all over the country something to feel good about--themselves.
It’ll take at least a season for the gals on Wisteria Lane to decide they like this transplanted Southern Magnolia. A breast cancer survivor and mother of two. A publisher, author, and expert on families coping with cancer. In her spare time she plans fundraisers and walks the dog. Let's face it- if I didn't know her intimately myself- I wouldn't like the sound of her either. I avoid do gooders, women who appear to do it all, have it all and make me feel guilty for not walking the dog.
Speaking of those dog walks Cancer-tankerous Mommy strategically plans them in order to avoid of all the desperate housewives- Susan Mayer.
Because before her best-selling children’s book- Tickles Tabitha’s Cancer-tankerous Mommy- there was another book. A book she sent Susan Mayer to critique and Susan sent it back with a note saying she was calling social services.
Well- not exactly but I’ll never forget my manuscript being returned and being told the Mommy was just too mean for a children’s picture book.
That’s what I love best about Desperate Housewives the people who write it appear to actually have children.
Of course we know it’s not real- real life because all the husbands/boyfriends actually talk and I never see them watching T.V.
Just so they know if they ever decide to move in a Desperate (Cancer-tankerous Mommy) Housewife – who survived breast cancer and is now trying to survive everyday life—I’m available for consultation.

I've been updating my Web site and was told I needed to blog. Yes, I do- but that blog will have to be annoymous, confidential and in no way traceable to me!

However -I'm proud to to share my Nutcracker Publishing Company Blog page and here's some items I can share- My new site will go public next week. www.nutcrackerpublishing.com

Please take a look and offer me your comments and suggestions. I will blog more about what's been going on at the Nutcracker Publishing Company and in my life at a later date.

In the mean time---

I was trying to take a look at other bloggers - see what it's all about and since my children's book Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy is pertaining to a Mom with Cancer I typed in Cancer Mom and by chance up popped- Sue Richard/Art Jam Calendar. I'm listing her sites below- there's a woman that knows how to blog!

And as I told her - it was just the sort of blog I needed - as lately you could substitute Menopausal for Cancer-tankerous.

I was dianosed with breast cancer at 34 and the tamoxifen pill/drugs I took often made you feel menopasual. I got off the drugs and had a few good years - and then begain menopause- right about the time my daughter began puberty.

Isn't my husband a lucky man!

Here are Sue's links.

Girl Blog: http://www.breastofcanada.blogspot.com/The Breast Views Blog: http://www.thebreastviews.blogspot.com/My Menopause Blog: http://www.mymenopauseblog.com/Blog Guelph: http://www.blogguelph.blogspot.com/Sue Richards/Art Jam