Announced!

the news is public
buried in a list of deals
is my own book! Woo!

Yay! The deal is announced. Here it is, cribbed from the Publisher’s Lunch daily email from Publisher’s Marketplace:

Humor
Kari Anne Roy’s MAMA HAIKU, detailing the random, wondrous (and
gross) joys of motherhood in verse, to Melissa Wagner at Quirk Books, by Daniel Lazar at Writers House (world).

The title of the book is actually HAIKU MAMA, though.

Hey, at least they spelled my name right.

world’s ugliest father’s day cake

OK, note to self
greasing bundt pan with butter
not great idea

Oh, well. it’s gonna taste good.

Right?

Img_3084

Um

independent bird
flies away from weirdo king
go, go, birdie, go!

"King Friday has two wooden birds with very long names."

This is a direct quote from Mr. Rogers this morning. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Where’s my TWoP Mr. Rogers recap, dammit?

poopin’

yes, it’s natural
and yes, everyone does it
but not in meetings

The wee one has developed a propensity for saving up his poopin’ prowess for when we’re out of the house.

He came with me to a meeting about some freelance work: 5 minutes into the meeting – poop.

He stayed with Daddy at work while mommy went to the doctor: 5 minutes into visiting Daddy’s office – poop.

He went to the dentist this morning for an "orientation" visit (to just meet everyone and see the equipment, before we go for the cleaning next week): 5 minutes in the waiting room – poop.

This is not counting the urinating on the floor at the vet’s office.

You might think he’s just a nervous kid, pooping at the mere thought of meetings or doctors. But I don’t think that’s it. This is a gregarious, walk straight up to strangers and strike up a conversation (!) kind of kid. He doesn’t really get nervous.

You might also think this is a potty-training thing. But we’re not pushing the potty at all. He’s wearing pull-ups and gets stickers if he goes in the potty, but that’s it. We’re trying to be low-key about it, so he doesn’t get all weird about it. Right.

So anyway. My kid needs to be in public to poop. Does that sound like a Maury show, or what?

speaking of curse words

hello? sanity?
sorry about this morning.
can you please come back?

Took Newman to the vet. AGAIN. For his ears AGAIN. Nothing new. Except that I’m out another $120.

Oh, and while we were there, the wee one PEED on the floor of the exam room.

Mmm-hmm. Keep laughing.

Bastards.

bastards

It’s taken me a long time, but I finally stopped peppering my language with obscenities… until I started watching The Wire. Just when I thought I was out, those gaping asshole cocksucking fuckers pull me back in.

(sorry mom)

just a sample

no wonder I trip
and fall on my ass a lot
there’s shit everywhere

I’m very busy. All week I’ve been working on editing the You Know, For Kids! novel that I’m trying to get published, and I’ve been doing a lot of freelance writing (more freelance thinking than writing, really, but that’s how it works).

Anyway, my house is reaping the consequences. Currently, on the floor in the kitchen:

a ripped Entertainment Weekly
a ripped drawing by the wee one
a hot pink feather
a partial Jimmy Neutron thing from a Wendy’s kid’s meal
several Buzz Lightyear napkins
a penny
a wooden dollhouse chair
Newman
most of Newman’s hair

On the living room floor:
many, many more Buzz Lightyear napkins (the wee one covered the entire sofa at one point)
a spyglass
a hair pick
a circle e candles hat
darth vader
a flaccid Bert puppet
a facedown Zoe puppet
Buzz Lightyear himself (in several plastic and non incarnations)
a star wars picture book
a Maisy book
the TV remote
the DVD player remote
the TiVo remote
an elephant nose
all the pieces to Don’t Break the Ice (and not in one nice pile)
an empty shoebox
a toy John Deere wrench
a newspaper
myriad green toy soldiers

That’s just the stuff I can see from the kitchen table.

Oh, and did I mention we have relatives coming to visit this weekend? Oh, is that right? this weekend starts right now? Oh, am I not finished with any of my editing or freelance writing? Oh, am I wasting time blogging? Oh, will the wee one watch Toy Story 80 frillion times today? Is that right?

Starting today I’m taking donations for a maid. And part-time pre-school. And a vacuum cleaner that effing works for a change. And an ear transplant for Newman. And a half-way decent haircut. And a house with a playroom.

I’m off now, to fall on my ass on so many different levels….