I did enjoy the year overall, primarily because I had a healthy delivery of a very sweet little girl, and then I got the distinct honor of raising her alongside her brother and sister. So I couldn't ask for more and think I'd get it.

I finished my first book, a chapter book about a little girl. I sent in my first submission to an agent, and am fully expecting no response, since as soon as I sent it, I came to conclusion that I am missing key elements. I have gotten good feedback concerning it, and am learning about a lot while looking at it for the millionth time. I have a problem with writing simply and matching the audience to the voice. Or something like that that my ego can handle, because it can't handle that I write like shit. I don't think I am a totally shitty writer, but I know I have a huge amount to learn. I plan on rewriting the book and submitting it when it's ready.

In the meantime, I have been having a hard time with time. I rarely have time to myself, much less time to work on my book and having daydreams of being a sugarmama to Mower. I have three wonderful kids that can ruin a good concentration in a matter of a nanosecond. I am still breastfeeding, and do not know how long we will go for it. I am still very fat, and am hoping to get on a good medication to help with that after I stop breastfeeding. I am not complaining, because I love breastfeeding and have enjoyed that time with Snookums (her new nickname--Honey was a brief nickname Handsome attributed to her, but it didn't stick), as I have with all three kids.

Handsome is potty trained for the most part--he is just a difficult little guy when it comes to that. He's very sweet otherwise. But the grey hairs on my head--most of the hairs, according to Bubba--can be directly attributed to him. Handsome and his father--both of them are just trouble. Snookums is the heart attack baby--she does something and my heart just stops. Then she gets cuddles and is all better and goes off in search of other things that make me freak out. Bubba is becoming quite the handful again. She is always asking questions. Always. We have watched the Harry Potter movies for a year now, and the girl cannot stop herself from asking a million questions every time we see one. She is upset she is not little like her brother and sister and we ask for her help in things like walking through a store, not riding in the cart, and bringing in the groceries. Gasp! We are terrible parents, in her eyes. Imagine making her wash her hands before making her eat a nutritious dinner--poor parenting at its best.

Mower and I are doing okay. We annoy the living hell out of each other, but isn't that what marriage is all about?

And that's about it.....I haven't lost my desire for writing, just the time for it. Love ya!