Heather Huffman's Blog, page 9

To my son, on his 16th birthday

Your Aunt Angie knew when she was six that she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up. I could never pick just one thing I wanted to do, but I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to raise amazing kids who would change the world. I kid you not, I remember writing a paper about that at 17.

​I told your dad when we got married I wanted at least four kids. He told me he wasn't having more than two. (God ultimately made us compromise with three.) When we lost our first baby towards the end of the first trimester, I was devastated. I felt like there was this big, gaping hole in the middle of my soul. And then, I remember God comforting me with this: It's going to be okay. You're going to have a son, and things will never be the same.

Shortly after, I found out I was pregnant. And God was right, things were never the same. From the moment you were born, you made this world a better place. You brought joy and peace with your presence. There's always been something special about you. Others see it too, so it's not just mom biased. I can't even begin to say how many pastors have told me "God's hand is on that child." 

You're an amazing brother, and a role model to your two younger brothers. You dispel the myth that a teenager has to be disrespectful. Even as you formulate who you are independent of your father and I, you always honor us. There are times I can see you reigning in your temper when we do clash. But you do. You're not perfect, no one is. But you humble me with how diligently you seek to do what's right, with how you humble yourself before God when you do misstep. You've taught me as much as I've taught you over the years.

I've been a little weepy today because it's hitting me that you really have transformed from a boy into a man over this past year. (It doesn't help that you look 26, not 16. Sheesh.) I'm treasuring these moments with you because I know that my time with you is nearing its end. In another year, you'll be finished with high school and I can see how ready you are to start your own life's adventure. 

It's a great big world out there, and I know you're going to make it a better one. It's what you were always meant to do. And I was always meant to prepare you for that.

But for now, I'm just going to soak up your presence. I'm going to enjoy that you're still my boy. And today, I'm going to celebrate you. You're one of the greatest miracles God's ever worked in my life. 

Happy birthday Dylan Sean.

ORAcon 2015

I'm not much of a joiner these days, I meant to join the Ozarks Romance Authors group (ORA). It took a fellow Booktroper inviting me to the local conference for me to finally take the plunge. My marketing manager was so proud. "Go make friends," she admonished, much the same as I would have encouraged my kids when they were little. I've gotta admit, it was justified. I've been a bit of a hermit lately. Ellen Harger (the fellow Booktroper) and I took a selfie to prove I'd made a friend. The picture turned out pretty blurry, though, so I'm not so sure it'll make it off the phone. Kate will just have to take my word for it.

Photo evidence or no, it was a great weekend and I was happy to meet so many talented authors right here in my neck of the woods. Working for an online company based out of Seattle, it's sometimes easy to get so wrapped up in the interwebs that I don't get to see people face-to-face. It was a nice treat, even for an introvert like me.

And the best news? I'm totally psyched to get my behind in gear on the next book. Cross your fingers for me - this one's long overdue.

Hello, my friends!

Meet Ralph! It's been way too long since I've checked in. I feel like my books and my readers are long lost friends I haven't seen in a while because this entire year has gone by in such a blur.

You might recall that at the beginning of the year, I accepted the role of Managing Director for Booktrope's Christian imprint, Vox Dei. I love it so much, helping others bring their books into the world. In fact, this past summer I accepted the role of Managing Director for two more of Booktrope's imprints, UPrush and UPdrift. The simplest way to explain those is this: Books parents want to read and the books they want their children to read. They are our parenting and children's/middle grade imprints. That's brought with it a whole new set of challenges, but I love it. I know it's a blessing to have a job that you enjoy as much as I do mine - although sometimes I have to remind myself of that when I start to feel overwhelmed!

Life on the farm has had its usual ebb and flow - things get crazy, then they settle down, only to get crazy again in the blink of an eye. We've added a puppy to our canine numbers. Ralph was dumped on our dirt road, and he's quickly become a part of the family we can't imagine life without. Big sister Holly loves him a lot. Except when she has to share toys - even his - she thinks they all belong to her.

My boys are growing like weeds. Even in all of the chaos, I'm trying really hard to take time each day to simply drink in being their mom. As Dylan gets serious about deciding what to do in life after high school, I'm realizing how quickly they'll all be gone.

A part of me feels guilty for not wrapping up poor Vance's stories yet. But I think my brain needed the break. The stories won't let me not tell them; they just needed to simmer a bit longer.

Oh, and I'm working on a charity event that will be in St. Louis in November. Stay tuned for updates on that, and the organization it's for. They're amazing, and I'm super excited to be some small part of their story. 

I hope this summer has been a good one for all of you. Here's to a lovely fall, as well!

Cover Reveal: Freedom's Secret by Amy McCoy Dees

There have been a hundred different blog posts I've meant to run in the past month, but none have quite made if from brain to fingers to interwebs. But today, I had to stop the million-mile-an-hour pace long enough to share this upcoming Vox Dei book with you. It really is one any lover of historical fiction will enjoy, Christian or no.  I know I'm biased because it's a Vox Dei Publishing book, but I really do love this novel and this writer. As soon as it's released (Sept 24!), I'll be buying a copy for all three of my kiddos and one for my sister, the history teacher.  About Freedom’s Secret

Port Royal, Jamaica. Caribbean. The Year of our Lord, 1708.

Seven years ago, ten-year-old Keegan O’Malley hid under a bush like a coward. Having run away from his duties on the sugar plantation and leaving his loved ones at the mercy of the cruel Driver, his younger brother Amos and childhood friend Karis are badly burned as punishment for not reporting to work.

Now seventeen, Keegan O’Malley has long since escaped the Jamaican sugar plantation and found freedom in St. Augustine, Florida, though he was separated from Amos and Karis on their voyage to the New World. Ever haunted by memories of being a childhood coward, he vows to find them. His journey leads him through secret tunnels, over rushing rivers, and inside smelly, pirate-filled taverns.

In this riveting historical fiction adventure by Amy McCoy Dees, Keegan faces his greatest fears, challenges his own beliefs, and discovers all is not lost in the New World.

About Amy McCoy Dees

Amy grew up in the Deep South with her parents and older sister, surrounded by a large, close extended family. Today, she lives in Senoia, Georgia with her husband and four incredibly fantastic kids. She often travels to Savannah, Georgia and the South Carolina Coast to walk among the cobblestones and stroll beneath the majestic magnolias where the past is alive and stories drift freely among the breeze.

She loves to talk, chat, lecture, speak, utter, or spiel about anything concerning writing and reading, especially for children. She considers herself a ‘literary time traveler’ as her passion is historical fiction.

To learn more please visit her at: amydees.com or follow her on Twitter @amy_mdees.

Contact Amy McCoy Dees
Website | amydees.com
Facebook | amydeesauthor
Twitter | @amy_mdees

And now for the big reveal...

I blame Justin

I've had trouble sleeping for the past couple of years. I've always had quirky sleeping habits - the pendulum swings widely between night owl and early bird. But for the past couple of years, I struggle to fall asleep before midnight and have a terrible habit of waking up somewhere between 2:30 and 4. The rare 8 hours of sleep is a treasured gift, fiercely guarded. I usually spend this extra time praying, working, mulling over whatever challenge I'm facing, or fretting in general - though our house is tiny enough it limits how much work I can do without waking everyone up.

Last night, I was in desperate need of a good night's sleep. Since we have a reprieve from the oppressive heat, I had high hopes that once I dozed, I'd stay out. It was about midnight when sleep won.

It was about 1:30 when a buzz and a chirp woke me up. 

The next four hours were filled with fitful bursts of sleep, odd dreams, and lots of buzzing and chirping. It seemed the sound was coming from the living room, but my befuddle brain couldn't quite make sense of the noise or its origins. The closer it got to morning, the more frantic I got. 

Finally, at 5:30, the noise woke up my middle son, who recognized the sound and made a beeline for his older brother's phone. I learned two things: 1) Some kid named Justin had texted "Hey man it's Justin. Wat up?" At 1:34 am and 2) My teenager has his phone set to notify him EVERY TWO MINUTES if he misses a text.

While I'm sure the texts he normally receives are much more earth shattering that "Wat up" - I mean, they must be if we're that concerned we might miss one - but surely there's a happy middle ground. Perhaps every hour? Or, I don't know, just once and we acknowledge that the little "1" displaying on our screen next to messages means we have one?

I apologize now to the world if I'm a miserable beast all day. I blame Justin. "Wat up?" Dak's mom, and she is not happy with you Justin.

Update: My son is now awake and assures me he doesn't know anyone named Justin. 

Little girl dreams

I think every little girl goes through a horse phase. Some of us just don't outgrow it.

As a child, I memorized every horse book I could get my hands on. I learned colors, conformation and communication from the pages of a book. The instant I was old enough, I sought out chances to be around the real deal. I took care of other people's horses, volunteered for vets, and gentled my first horse at 13 - before it even occurred to me that climbing barebacked on an untrained horse could be dangerous.

It never quite worked out for me to have my own horse. My grandpa had just begun to horse shop when he was diagnosed with cancer. The summer was supposed to be one where my dream came true. Instead it was the summer I tended to my hero as cancer ate him away, piece by piece. I wound up treasuring those days for a very different reason than the one I'd planned.

But the dream to own and train my own horses never died. I still had this vision of taking the unlovable horses of the world, training them, and helping them find their place. I wanted to save mustangs. I wanted to barrel race. I wanted to learn to jump. There were so many things in that world I yearned to see, touch, experience. 

My little girl dreams of horses had to take a back seat to life when I had kiddos of my own. My attention turned to their dreams. When my oldest son decided to take horseback riding lessons, I soaked up all I could as I watched him experience the things I'd dreamed of so long ago.

For a while, I could almost touch that dream. We'd found a barn home and we owned two of the most amazing horses I'd ever laid eyes on. I had the privilege of exercising and riding animals that were truly the cream of the crop. The time I spent at that barn was one of the happiest of my life.

And then our middle son, Blake, had his accident and the horses had to be sold to pay medical bills and the dream once again faded, giving way to the reality of helping our son through a major life trauma. The accident never made Blake scared of horses - he'd been in a coma through the worst of it and didn't remember the accident itself. But changed things for the rest of us. We were shaken to our core, and I wondered if we'd ever ride again.

That's when Dixie came into our lives, the little red appaloosa with enough spunk to make her fun but a gentle enough nature to soothe my rumpled spirit. An accident had left her blind in the right eye, and when she came to us, she didn't want anyone on the right side of her body. I worked with her and she worked with me - we patched up the broken pieces in each other. Her herd mate was a little appy gelding, who sadly passed away last spring. He left a great-big hole in our hearts and on our little homestead.

As we talked about what kind of horse we wanted to add to our homestead so Dixie would have a friend (besides her alpaca buddies), I came to realize that I'd fallen in love with the appaloosa breed. There's something in their nature that draws me to them - though that could be a post of its own.

Now it seems that some of those little girl dreams are on the verge yet again of becoming a reality. Some of it doesn't even feel real yet, so I might save it for a later post, but I will make one big announcement: My Dixie girl is going to be a mama! She is bred for a May 2015 foal. I got to see the baby on an ultrasound. I actually cried when I saw the little black dot on the screen that I was assured is a baby.

Dixie and I have always been buddies, but now that she's bred, she's decided to stick to me like glue. Her favorite spot is the backyard, and she's even followed me onto the porch a couple of times (which is not intended for horses). She threw the only temper-tantrum I've ever seen from her when I locked her in the *gasp* horse pasture the other day. 

I will keep you guys posted as the pregnancy progresses. God willing, next May will bring us a healthy foal. (A bay with a blanket and spots on his rump would be an added bonus...)

Day 5

I've realized the thing I miss most about having the boys here: the ability to turn to them and ask them to pray for someone. Three times this week, I've been hit with a whammy that could only be met with prayer. While I know I'm perfectly capable of making the request, and I do, there's something reassuring about my boys coming in agreement with me in prayer. They're serious about their prayer, too. Probably because they've seen the power of it. When I tell them a need, they stop what they're doing and talk to God, right then and there.

On a lighter note, I'm finding some irony in the fact that when the boys are here, I'm the task master making everyone clean. Today is our day to deep clean the house. I looked around and realized I had no desire to do so. Instead, after wrapping up my work day, I sat on the couch and watched When Calls the Heart on Netflix. It's a cute show and I think I needed a couple of hours to make like a vegetable. Or maybe I need my boys to keep me on my toes as much as they need me.

Day 4

I made one small pizza tonight for Adam and I, and I put all kinds of crazy things in the crust - because I could. It takes four large pizzas to fill up a house full of teenage boys. So that's a perk.

I took a picture of the sink today to prove to my boys that it is made of stainless steel, not dishes.

I miss my kiddos. One more day. I've yet to rest while they're gone. Or write. Tomorrow is do or die time on both.

Day 3

This will be a short post. I can barely hold my eyes open after 13 hours of crazy busy work. And lots of rescuing baby chickens, sorting goats, and random animal shenanigans. A friend told me my animals just didn't want me to miss my boys too much. Yes, I'm sure that's it. They're being jerks out of kindness.

Adam hasn't stopped giggling for five minutes over a goofy meme he saw on Facebook. I think the boys being gone is getting to him, too.

Some people speculated the boys being gone would be a vacation. Others said I'd be super busy without my farm hands around. I'm realizing it's just a different kind of busy. Things have shifted. But I miss taking breaks to go to the river with them or just sit in the shade to watch the animals and talk. They force me to stop and smell the proverbial roses. I guess I'll have to learn how to do that on my own when they're all grown up. In the meantime, I'll appreciate the moments we have. Meme from the Thieves Like Us Facebook page. I think Adam is still giggling over there. Or should I say chuckling? I guess that sounds manlier.

Day 2

Yesterday, I wondered if my week without my boys would make me the most productive person on the planet or if it would drive me completely and totally insane. I am now beginning to consider a third, previously unforeseen option: I just might become a complete and total sloth. Maybe I'm one of those people who only has two speeds, and without my boys keeping me on my toes, I will go from Mach 3 to zero.

My animals saw to it I didn't do anything crazy like sleep in without the kiddos around. This morning we found out the diner where Adam and I met and he later proposed is closing. (The same diner in Throwaway, btw) This filled the morning with a flurry of messages between us and friends we haven't seen in eons. My mother-in-law took the boys to breakfast there so they could see the place before it was gone. It's 1 pm as I type this and I'm fighting the urge for the billionth time to not message my oldest to see how breakfast went. All I've gotten so far was that they remembered Adam as "the Elvis guy." I worked there for years, but apparently one has to look like Elvis to be remembered. And the fact that I can't go one day without talking to my kids has me a little concerned for myself. Have I become that mom?

So far today, I've updated the Vox Dei website to include an author page, written a post for the Vox Dei blog, gone through my entire to-do list for Vox Dei, rescued a baby chicken, contemplated pulling together a TJ's reunion (still haven't ruled that one out), gone grocery shopping and caught up on the local gossip whether I wanted it or not. (You can't go to the coffee shop and not get local gossip.) And I've caught up on submissions for Vox Dei. (So hey, if you've contemplated submitting to us, now would be a great time.)

But all I really want to do is curl up with a good book or rom com movie. I thought real hard about tackling the boys' rooms as threatened, but have just about convinced myself it would be better parenting to leave them for the boys to clean. It has nothing to do with the current overwhelming desire to nap. My boys at the counter at TJ's Diner