Sunday, December 11, 2016

All was Well.

Barnes & Noble held their Yule Ball party this weekend, and it, despite being crowded and small, was kind of magic. The high-school orchestra played under owl post envelopes on invisible strings, there were craft tables, a snitch hunt, and lots of people dressed up to go to frankly the most magical place we have in town (library aside) the local bookstore. We were able to join our friends, and meet new ones.



It's magic to get a bunch of fans together, drawn in by a singular set of books. My kids loved it. I hope you got to attend if they held one near you, and mark it in your calendar anytime a local venue offers a book-themed party. I have never once been disappointed in attending one.

I feel like lately I haven't had time to really work. Some of it is the season, some of it is my primary job to care for my family. It's never easy not to feel guilty about that. I even ran into one of my old animation class buddies-a long accomplished professional and one of my favorite joke-tellers in any university level course ever. And I felt guilty talking to her about how little I think I have accomplished. Having children herself, she reassured me it was hard. And to keep working.

That's good advice. But, I don't want to feel guilty for not killing myself just trying each day to do something other than take care of my family. That seems both senseless and degrading. A nice reminder most of what I do isn't valued at all.

And I think back to before my husband and I had children-before he was my husband actually. The last Harry Potter novel had a midnight release. And the first thing we heard on the drive to community college (and the fight for parking in the uncomfortably early hours) was the radio host of a beloved morning show bitching. Bitching because he said NOBODY wanted what was supposed to be one of the most talented wizards to end up as a house-husband.

That's misleading, Harry has an important job. What Rowling focused on was what mattered the very most to the character. To the story.

It was his family.

And I have to remember that I will, eventually and somewhat sadly, have time to myself. Right now, though I have to show my children how to chase their dreams by trying to chase my own, I have to forgive myself when I can't balance everything-when they must be placed on top.

Because that's the heart of my story.



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