Maybe polygamists have something...?

It's official.

My husband and I need a wife.

Not for the fun stuff, mind you, but for all the duties typically assigned to the female in the family, especially down 'n dirty cleaning. (I love to cook, love to take care of our son, but loathe scrubbing or even dusting.)

Does it make me sexist to assume that another woman would be perfectly suited to do our laundry, tidy up the place and run the vacuum?

Perhaps we need a maid instead, but that sounds so luxurious and embarrassingly elitist. "Wife" has a nicer ring to it.

Until that day, though, the dust bunnies will reign.

Motivational speaker, motivate thyself

I was a motivational speaker for a while.

Today, a door closed.

I need motivation to find the open window.

Think I could go back in time and attend one of my pep rally speeches?

Top New Shows on The Neanderthal Channel (TNC)

1. Fire!
2. How to Live to 30
3. What dat?
4. Cavez
5. Gruntin' with Grog

Our Monday-Sunday Office Team (I'm on the left)

Fear not

Most people who meet me professionally assume I'm always the way I present myself when in an office or networking environment -- bubbly, positive, outgoing, confident.

Though I'd love it if that were the case, I have to admit that I sometimes allow myself to become swallowed by fear. It's not always a specific fear, mind you, but just an overall feeling of impending doom (a wonderful phrase coined by my dear friend Susan.)

Working from my home exacerbates the "fear factor", I believe. When your sole colleague is just shy of 5, you don't have many opportunities for deep water-cooler discussions. I can tell him, "Mommy's just having a rough morning," and his answer is, "I'll kiss you. Are you better now?" And though I'm touched, I'm not necessarily moved to action.

Ironically, I gave a motivational talk on Wednesday night to a group of about 150-200 people. (Yes, I love public speaking -- the more audience members, the better!)

The topic?

Overcoming Fears.

(As a side note, I wasn't talking about rational fears; those are important to our survival. Instead, I focused on fears that aren't based on anything real but are ways we trap ourselves into self-made "boxes".)

The presentation went very well, and many people told me afterward they were inspired to try something new, something different, something uncomfortable. The experience was a blast and I was thrilled to hear several attendees' personal stories after the speech was finished.

Today, I'm feeling a bit shaky. There's no one reason for this sudden lack of confidence. But there it is.

I guess I need to listen to my own advice and keeping moving forward. But I'd rather listen to advice from you, my "virtual" office mates.

What do you do when you're suddenly seized by unfounded fears?

Think my husband should be a satirist?

My hubby is a lawyer who is trying to escape from the law. (Well, not "escape" as in Prison Break or 24 but as in find a different career track after 20+ years of being an attorney.)

Fortunately, he has a great sense of humor. Check out his latest cartoon...

An FYI for the Self-Employed

If you're self-employed, those fun estimated tax checks need to be postmarked today!

(I know it hurts to fork over the money, but it'll ease the pain next April 15!)

Lyrics

Lyrics to a song made up by my almost-kindergarten aged office mate. (He's a poet, I think...)

Socks go in the laundry...
I don't know why everything is rearranged
Into my life...

(humming)

I just don't...

(By the way, I have no idea what this means, but it sounds pretty cool. And let's face it -- half the songs on the market are rather obscure, so why should his be any different?)

When you're a work from home mom...

... this is the kind of memo you receive from your office mate:

I thought you knew!

In a recent comment, Beth asked me what it is that I write, exactly.

And that's when it hit me... I have just assumed that everyone who visits Recess for Writers knows what I do for a living (and a playing.)

First, let me say that I'm a mom. That's first and foremost. It has to be. And my son keeps me busy as well as laughing. (Sometimes yelling, too, but that's for another discussion.)

I'm also a work at home mother (WAHM) with a professional freelance writing career. I have had the privilege to work on nearly every type of writing from articles to blogs to website copy to ad/marketing copy to press releases to reports. The two things that I don't tackle are white papers and novels.

But wait... that's not all!

On the weekends and some weeknights, I work for an acting/modeling agency teaching students of all ages how to "work" the camera and the stage. It's a fascinating gig and one with many stressors... and far more rewards.

Finally, I also perform a one-woman play in local high schools about 7-8 times per year. The piece is a 20-minute performance that revolves around relationship violence issues and is based on the story of a real gal who was killed by her abusive boyfriend several years ago.

All in all, I'm one lucky person.

I don't know why I've been blessed to have a career like this. It's incredibly demanding, but makes me (mostly) happy.

Do you understand "client speak"?

I have a client who doesn't speak my language.

Or I don't speak the client's language.

One or the other.

But it's not what you think.

See, we're both using English. And our sentence structure is similar. But for the life of me I'm totally confused by the way this person puts phrases together.

I can't quite explain it, but it would be akin to having someone say to you, "The blouse is on the stall of the modicum of horror." The words are legit, but the sentence is crazy.

How many times can I say, "Ummm... can you explain that again?" before I have to accept that I either need a translator or a new client?

The Skin of a Writer

Last week, I received two very different responses from writing clients within the same hour. One praised my writing style and thanked me profusely; the other all but damned me to hell (then requested I not take offense.)

Surprisingly, I was not overly moved by either. The former, though sweet, did not make my head swell to the size of a Macy's Parade balloon. The latter did not turn my hands clammy with fear.

It would seem that I am developing, ever-so-slowly, a thicker skin.

The way I see it, this development is both good and bad.

Obviously, being able to take harsh criticisms with a grain of salt (or a tub of it, if necessary) is always preferable to turning into a sobbing mess whenever someone says "Your work sucks." However, I worry that I will somehow lose my artistic "sensitivity" if I become too immune to uncouth remarks directed at my writing.

I know there is a happy medium somewhere in this jumble, but I'm not one for staying in the center. Typically, I gravitate toward one extreme or another.

What do you think? Is a leathery exterior necessary for this line of work? Or should one always feel a slight sting when one's writing is rejected?