Admissions of Guilt and Other Such Apologies

As I reported a few weeks ago, I have been most fortunate in signing with an awesome agent, Rena Rossner. She has been a blessing, editorially, and I’ve spent the last few weeks cranking out a set of revisions, which I’ve sent off to her for review. It was a chaotic time.

Add to the revisions the fact that my youngest daughter has been suffering with renewed symptoms of Post-Concussion Syndrome from the concussion she got, a year ago, and the fact that my eldest son fractured his finger, which required surgery to place pins in it. My eldest daughter is charging through her senior year, and has just been accepted to college, and my youngest son is playing soccer and his vocabulary and reading level is expanding by the day.

Add to that the fact that I am still working 20-30 hours a week, helping my husband run his business, and trying (and mostly failing) to keep some sort of order in the household.

I managed to get the revisions in, but I’m failing at a whole lot of other things.

If/when the book ever sees the light of day, you’ll all be able to read that one of the main themes of this story is the fact that family isn’t just blood. You make your family, and that family comes first. I’m failing at that, right now, in a lot of ways.

I can’t tell you how many phone calls I have not returned, how many text messages and Facebook statuses I’ve overlooked. I can’t even keep track of all of the things that I should have said, and done, that haven’t been said, or done. I owe so many people a lunch date, or a phone call, or an email, or whatever… and you know what’s awesome?

I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one keeping track. I have the very best friends in the known world. I have an amazing support system of family, friends, confidantes, and partners in crime, and I know that even though I’m feeling this guilt… they’re just cheering me on.

My house hasn’t been as filthy as it has recently been since I last had a newborn. My mountain of laundry that needed to be folded nearly reached the ceiling… and was tackled by mother — bless her soul. Our dishwasher broke and my husband, despite working 14 hours a day, washed dishes by hand, every night while I did revisions.

I am not worthy.

If the book sees the light of day, I won’t have room for all of the acknowledgements that should be made. To everyone who I have overlooked while struggling to make this dream come true, please accept my admission of guilt, and my love. I couldn’t do any of this without all of you.

You are my team. You are my family. You are the reason I’ve been able to do any of this.

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