the house of miss birdie

I am a mother of a six year-old boy and 10 year-old niece. Anyone raising kids as a single parent knows, you do what you can. Make cuts here, splurge there (splurges are almost always for the kids) but you do it. You do it all. There’s no choice. As they grow, you pass on the hallmark values. You tell your kids that nothing is impossible and that they could do anything that they put their little hearts and minds to. When it’s your turn to do your part in actually setting the example and you don’t even believe the hype. I personally have written over 10 books and I am absolutely proud of all that I’ve done. But what have I done? There’s nothing other than the books that sit on the shelf collecting dust, that could show for what I’ve done. Money? We are still making cuts and calculating splurges. What is the message that I’m sending these kids? “Mommy doesn’t know her value.” “Mommy is a little lost.” “Mommy doesn’t believe in herself.” All I keep thinking is, “DAMN, Mommy is a hyp...

Sometimes, no matter how good you are, you stand on the big stage and freeze. No one can ever explain why. Fear of failure, fear of success or just plain fear. Yet, we practice our lines and prepare feverishly to make sure that we have it all right. Then when we get up there, in front of hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions, we fall flat. How do we do this? Why?  Me? I think too much. I put too much pressure on myself. I prepare too hard to lose it. But I do. I just finished the 3rd book in my children's book series. Although it's not my first book series (I also have the "Talk to Me" Communication Series) In all of my accomplishments, I'm proud and happy. But I'm also afraid and lost. All i keep asking myself is: Now what?  I have to realize that I'm not as good as i think i am, I'm waaaay better. I need to let the world know that. Now that I have prepared for the role of a lifetime, I will step out onstage and give them my best. The world dese...

Early this month, I took my son to see Mo Willems, the multi-talented, multi-award winning children's book writer and illustrator at Books of Wonder in NYC. My now ex-boyfriend accompanied me at the time (for moral support, AKA my sanity from the hectic ness of the screaming kids.) Beyond being overtired from constantly overexerting myself, I had a banging headache that being at a children's book signing would just make worse. But there I was. It had meant so much to Bam that we went as he is a fan of EVERYTHING Mo Willems writes, especially the Elephant and Piggie books. So there he is. mo Willems. The master at work. "No flash photography, please." (to the extra hard headed parents) He becomes animated as he reads the book, "We Are in a Book!" the latest in Elephant and Piggie books. My son, who was first in line, had his Knuffle Bunny (another book series he wrote) ears on, sitting in the front row. Eating it all up. My boyfriend, looks at me, gives ...

Sorry, we have decided to reject your book proposal. It doesn't fit with the type of direction our company is going in. We wish you the best in your future endeavors.  (or something like that) OK. I received my first rejection letter yesterday. I know. I shouldn't take it personal. But I did. I do. I guess I'm used to holding it all in and ever since I've been working for myself, I haven't had to worry about anyone else's opinion of my work in that aspect. I edit. I freelance. No one has ever told me that my work wasn't good enough or wasn't what they were looking for. In this industry, they say for writers to brace themselves more more rejection. But I've always dodged that bullet. So, I put myself out there and decided to share my work and the answer is no. And I honestly don't know what to do with that. Then I remember why I started my company in the first place. I wanted to share my books, on my terms and have been doing so for over 10 yea...

Something was heavy on my heart last night and I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to talk to Facebook about it. You know how we vaguely put it out there, and get feedback that eases you for the moment. This was a heaviness that I had to work out in-house.  I didn’t have any liquor easily accessible to drown my sorrows with but this was an emergency! So I opened my 8-year Bacardi that I “forgot about”. The one you can only get in Puerto Rico, the one you’ve saved for a special occasion. Yeah, that bottle. When I got that buzz (which was after the first drink, after all it was that good stuff ) I got angry. Angry with myself because of all of the time I “waste” helping everyone else, other than myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people. Giving advice, words of encouragement, doing consulting work and short projects for friends, for free. So why am I angry with myself? So when I sat down to write this, I had that cry. That long, hearty...

So I just jumped off a building. Just kidding. I just jumped into life, once again. For the longest, I've been hiding. From what? I still don't know. I guess it was fear of failure, rejection, maybe even success. Bad business decisions. Ending friendships. Dead relationship. I guess I was traumatized. So I ran for cover. Problem was, I got stuck. I needed to feel safe again. Problem is, when you want to feel safe, after your heart slows down, you get warm and cozy. Warm and cozy is dangerous. Especially when you are a self-employed businesswoman. Warm and cozy does not pay bills. When you're broke and hungry, warm and cozy gets uncomfortable. You have to come out sometime. Hiding from what I was hiding from was fear of being hurt again. I had lost enough in such a short time, I wanted to be OK. Now that my heart is mending, my mind isn't as scattered. I'm in a better position to see that where I was before was nowhere I needed to be for my success. At ...

In dealing with anything in my past, I have learned not to look back. There’s no sense to do it, and it only makes you do stupid things. This gets to be hard when you have young children. They look back for you. They cry at night and ask for Daddy. It breaks your heart. But no matter what you say, you still can’t give them the answers that they are looking for. So I wrote a book a children’s book called, “Daddy Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.” Before you see it as a hopeless plug, it is based on my own experience with my son. One night, he just wouldn’t stop crying. I thought he was just being stubborn about not going to bed. After letting him cry for ten minutes, I came in the room thinking that it may have been more serious. “Why isn’t Daddy coming back?” my son said, hopelessly. Well, you have to read the book to get the rest. (That’s the plug.) But the gist of it is letting our children know that although things don’t work out with us grown-ups, that he or she is still love...