How In the #@!?

I'm posting late this morning because my wonderful, incredible husband got up and took care of the kids for me this morning. I woke up to a throbbing jaw. You see, I found out that not only is there a bad tooth that needs to be pulled, there's a wisdom tooth coming in. I thought I was too old for those...apparently not. So, I took a pain pill and slept and slept. I feel better now. I bet you really wanted to know all of that, too.

Today, I'm ranting a little. Okay, I might rant a lot. First of all....Twitter. Why is it so popular? From what I've seen so far...people don't really talk to each other, they just let out random sentences of what they are doing or some odd sentence that doesn't make sense or....and these are my favorite....I ap&*m going to the store @userperson with #somethingweird.  Apparently Twitter doesn't like apostrophes and therefore adds a bunch of junk in the middle? And I think I understand the the @ sign means you are addressing a specific user...what the heck is the #listname. I haven't understood the list thing at all. I've tried, people, really I have. How many computer languages must I learn to sell a book? ARGH!

I'm over that rant. Here's another one for you. When people ask what you do, do you tell them about your day job? Or that you are a stay at home mom? Or do you tell them you are a writer, even if you are unpublished? I met my neighbors a couple of months ago and we had the typical conversation of what do you do, how old are the kids, blah blah. Here's how my conversation went.

ME: I stay at home with the kids and actually I'm working on a book.
THEM: Oh, really? What kind of book?
ME: Young Adult novel. It takes up a lot of my time, I apologize I'm over here in my pajama bottoms.
THEM: Oh, how exciting. I have always thought about writing a book.
ME: Really?
THEM: Yes, but I just don't have the time. (looking over my disheveled hair, no make up, oversized tee shirt and pajama bottoms, completed with sandals that I hastily threw on to chase my kids down outside.) Have you published anything?
ME: No, not yet. That is the ultimate goal, though.
THEM: Oh. Well. Good Luck.
ME: Thanks!

But the look is that of disbelief, and a little judgemental-as if that's not a title I'm allowed to have until I've published something. So, I'm a little hesitant to tell people I write. I feel like they think I'm a joke. But, this writing business is hard work, I want to scream.

Then at the most odd place, I became proud of myself again. The school dance I recently attended with my girls was held directly after school let out until 5 pm. So, I brought the girls' dresses to the school and helped them get changed. On our way back to the gym, a particularly snotty ten year old walked up to Princess Rhiannon and said, "Nice dress." My daughter, who is thankfully oblivious to her sneer, says, "Thanks, this is my mom." She grabs onto my hand and leans against me, showing me how proud she is of me. And then, the snotty ten year old says, "Hi. Do you really write books for a job?" My first instinct was to tell her no. I thought, well it's not like she can go buy any of my books, how do I explain that to a snotty ten year old who probably has just as snotty a mother? (Sorry-I hate snotty kids)

But then I realized something. My not snotty nine year old was apparently bragging on me at her school. If my kid feels like what I do is something to be proud of, and calls it my job-despite the fact that she's never seen my name in print-what right do I have to doubt it? My whole family has been behind me during this journey. Even though it has cramped our wallet, they smile and hug me and tell their friends I'm a writer.

So, I held my head up and told that snotty ten year old, "Yes, I do and Rhiannon here is one of my best beta readers." I put my arm around my daughter and squeezed her. The snotty ten year old's face fell and she said, "Oh. Cool." And walked off.

Now, if you ask me, I'll tell you loud and proud..."I'm a writer."