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What better gift can daughters give their dad than a book about the SPY sisters and their Father?

Hot off the press …

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When I was younger, I aggressively pursued my career … believing that the things I did (and the money I brought home) would make a significant difference to the world and my family.

My children up until this day, still have difficulty understanding what I did as an accountant. They’re not even interested.

It is not from the lack of explanations, trust me.

Yet, from the moment I decided to start writing, they have taken an active interest in my creative thought process from wanting to understand the story, giving their opinions on my book covers to actively proclaiming to the whole wide world their mom is an author (and no, I’ve never let them read my books. They need to grow up first!)

I never got that kind of enthusiasm when I was working as an accountant.

And now, my eldest has overcome her fear of writing and decided she likes to come up with stories too. She wrote one for her teachers as a Christmas present. My youngest sits in my lap and asks me to read what I wrote for her that day. She questions the main idea of the story and actually makes an awesome editor (surprisingly for a seven year old – Maybe she sees things so much clearer than this jaded old soul).

Definitely not what I was expecting when I first embarked on my writing adventure. So now, I have to write something for them too …

Who knows what lies beyond the horizon … but at least we’re doing it together ❤

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My child asked me today, “Why do you write, mommy?”

It’s been ten years since she was born and yet, I remember it almost as if it happened yesterday.

Would I have done some things differently? Probably.
Would I have changed a single thing about her? No, because I love her exactly the way she is.

“I write for you, my child. There are so many things I have learnt which I want to share with you and yet, I know now is not the time but I fear, tomorrow we may never find the right moment. One day, you will read what I have written and understand the journey that brought us here. Hopefully, you will take these learnings to make your life even better once you yourself become a woman.

This is my legacy to you.”

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Most mothers bring their bundle of joy into the world with the expectation of being able to breastfeed their infant and indeed, many succeed after delivery. Approximately 76.5% of women in the United States successfully breastfeed their child at birth. However, some are unable to continue as time goes by. The rate drops to 49% at 6 months. According to a survey by the Department of Health and Human Services, only 16.4% of new mothers are exclusively breastfeeding at 6 months.

In honor of the 2013 World Breastfeeding Week, download a complimentary copy of “Crazy For Milk” here and take a peek at the non-textbook realities of motherhood.

My gift to all soon-to-be moms.

According to a recent Pew Research Center analysis, working moms are the sole or primary provider in four-in-ten households with children, as compared to one-in-ten (11%) back in 1960. Not all are breadwinners by choice. 63% of these women are single mothers who earn a median income of $23,000, less than a third of the $80,000 median total family income of married mothers who earn more than their husbands. With adequate resources and someone to take care of the family, it can work out for the single mother but what if she doesn’t have them? Who pays the price when she has to work? …Read more

“I am a single mom and I’m the breadwinner and I have to work and I have to do these things and that’s just the way it is – Charisma Carpenter”

 

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It was past midnight and I had finished putting away all the dishes.  Everyone else was fast asleep and I was exhausted.  Growing up, when I was a little girl playing with dolls and toy cooking sets, it was all fun and games.  Later as a young adult, it was jokes and banter over the horror stories.  It never struck me that as a mother, a wife, I would be this tired and this lost.

It was now coming to the end of the fourth month since Emma was born.  Every morning, I dragged myself out of bed before the sun rose to breastfeed the sleepy little Emma and express as much milk as I could before work.  It was stressful, trying to get my breast pump sterilized, all the apparatus packed so I could express at work and Emma changed before I dropped her at the daycare.  I was going insane, rushing every morning in order to make it to work before eight thirty.

At work, I struggled as my body wreaked havoc on me.  Late morning meetings that dragged on to lunch time were the worst because by that time, I was literally dying to express and having massive let downs in my nursing pads.  It became nearly impossible to concentrate on whatever was being discussed during those times.

Just last week, I had not positioned my nursing pad properly and the milk had soaked through to my shirt.  It was bad enough having my now enhanced curves and cleavage scanned by the older, more lecherous males in the office whilst trying to pretend I didn’t notice or care.  But that was the worse day — those same men were watching the stain spread on my white shirt as I tried to pretend that there was nothing wrong.  Days like that, I really regretted waking up in the morning and going to work.

To make matters worse, my milk supply was dwindling whilst Emma’s demand for milk was increasing.  I wasn’t able to express as much at work anymore.  I used to be able to express at least eighteen ounces a day my first week back at work, but now after ten weeks, that had dropped by one-third and I was perpetually worried Emma wouldn’t have enough breast milk to see her through until her first birthday.  I really wanted to try and fully breastfeed Emma for the first year of her life.

I was fully engorged in the evenings by the time I picked Emma up from daycare — feeding her was a relief although I had to hold off feeding her when I got home until my breast pump was sterilized.  I needed to catch any excess milk that dripped out uncontrollably from the other side while she was feeding.  Every drop had become extra precious to me and I couldn’t afford to lose a single one now.

To read more, go to http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Milk-lactation-confessions-struggling/dp/0991819403

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So, “Star Wars” creator George Lucas, 69, wed his longtime girlfriend, Mellody Hobson, 44, recently.

Thinking about the older man, younger woman relationship (which I have also explored recently in Sweet on Me), I was trying to summarize the reasons why younger women prefer older men. Could it possibly be because of:

• her search for love/connection? Women are more focused on making a connection earlier on in their lives. It would be easier for her to connect with a more matured and established man, than someone her age who is still consumed with driving his career (and not connecting with her!).
• her need to feel significant? She would have the freedom to drive her career and not be competing with her other half (or worrying about who’s going to be there for the kids!) as he would have already hit the peak of his career and established his own financial independence.
• his ability to provide her with stability and security? The older man would be emotionally more matured, grounded and wiser – better able to focus on having a serious relationship and fatherhood.
• his wealth of experience? With age comes experience. With experience, comes knowledge from which she would benefit.
• the freedom to pursue her career? She has the option of driving her career when he retires and stays home with the kids, just like Xerox CEO Ursula Burns.

Thoughts, anyone?

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I had heard all the stories, the old wives’ tales, the dos and the don’ts.
I had read books and researched materials on the Internet.
I made sure I bought everything I could think of beforehand — the baby clothes, the baby bottles, the diapers, the diaper rash medication, the lotions, the soaps and the baby cot.
I planned upfront all the housework that needed to be done and did as much as I could before I entered the labour room so there would be less to do when I got home with her.
I had even meditated and got myself into a Zen-like-state so that I would be as ready as I could be to bring her into this world.
I wanted to be ready.
I had thought I was ready.
I really believed I was ready.
That is, until the milk came.

For more information, go to http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Milk-confessions-struggling-ebook/dp/B00AQBDRFI

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Check out the new Bedroom Secrets novel, Sweet on Me, a tale of seduction, money and love – now available on Amazon. It’s a Kindle Edition – so those without a Kindle reader or app can use the Kindle Cloud reader to read it!

“Father, forgive me for I have sinned.

Terrible things have been done to me. It arouses me. Pleasure at being used by a man I barely know in exchange for money. Even though I never sought him out in the first place, I cannot resist temptation. I have to go back for more.”

Tony Woods is bored. Money doesn’t excite him anymore but corrupting the straight-laced, naïve Ophelia does. He has no qualms making her into his personal sex toy.

Ophelia Wilde isn’t the same woman she was before. A year ago, she was an abused wife, unfamiliar with life’s pleasures. Now, her senses are on fire but she’s dying of shame, desperately trying to juggle her conscience and her wallet.

Trapped by her lies, she struggles to hide her sins from her new-found love, Josh Summers, living in fear of discovery every day. He is drawn to her vulnerability, seeking only to protect her from the big bad wolves out there, not knowing that she already belongs to one.

Will Ophelia find a way to leave Tony and escape the chains of her past, or will her misdeeds destroy Josh’s trust in her? Can their love survive the weight of her guilt?

Click here to preview!

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Having just delivered a baby, faced with engorgement as her breasts overflow with milk, where does a woman turn to for help? The one closest to her, the one whom she believes can save her, the one whom she puts all her faith into finding a solution for her .. her hero, her saviour, her husband.

Breastfeeding is never easy for a new mother and when her body becomes a stranger to her in the middle of the night, behaving in ways unfamiliar to her, giving her pain beyond anything she ever imagined before, she turns to the love of her life for help.

But often … can love be enough when the solution is not what she expects? Desperate times call for desperate measures … but is she desperate enough? She wants to be saved, but when his actions take her beyond her comfort zone, pushing her into the realm of the unknown … is it enough for the ends to justify the means?

As a man, he wants to be her hero, her knight in shinning armour ~ the one who keeps her safe … but how can he protect her from herself? How can he stop her from turning on him when the solution he presents to her is something she isn’t ready to accept?

And yet despite everything, she still wants her hero to save her.