Have Shrink, Will Write

I know it has been months since I posted, but its been an extremely rocky several months. Now that things are on the mend, I'd like to share a blog post that I did as a guest on Fictorians, an amazing group of writers that I met while at Superstars Writing Seminars in Colorado last month.  So, for your viewing enjoyment here is the reblog of my post from Fictorians, Have Counselor, Will Write:

A Guest Post by Karen Pellett

Just last month, I was lying in the same-day surgery wing of the hospital prepping for knee surgery when the pre-op nurse asked what kind of work I do. I smiled as I took the marker and dutifully wrote “Yes, please,” on my right knee, a protective measure against the surgeon working on the wrong leg, and answered, “I’m a mom and a writer.” Over the next hour we talked more about what I do for a living. Finally, she shook her head, and asked, “How do you do it?”

“I have a fantastic counselor,” I said.

She broke out laughing.

It is true though. Life is chaos. That is a given fact for pretty much everyone. It is a big mess of trials, failures, joy and heartache that all mesh into one big ball of fun.

Once upon a time, in a land known as Seattle, I quit my full time job as a business analyst to write. I’d wake up in the morning, kiss my husband send him off to work, and then sit down at my computer and……twiddle my thumbs. I had all the time to write, and struggled to write a single word. It honestly took my friend giving me a random writing prompt before I wrote my first short story Curse of the Light Switches. Believe me, it was totally and completely pathetic. But it was what I needed to kick my imagination gears into motion. Over the next two years, I wrote and edited seven drafts of my first ever epic fantasy novel. Thinking the project finished and a work of art, I started submitting to agents. The mail box remained empty for months. The few responses I did receive were form letters. The greatest rejection stated that while I was a talented storyteller, I was not a fit for their publishing firm.

Then, after seven years of fertility issues, we invented the child. Not just any child, but a little girl who rolled over in the hospital three days after birth and has never stopped moving. She was our little miracle, but the moment she came into existence my motivation and ability to write drastically dropped faster than an Olympic skier racing down a bunny hill. Two months after our daughter was born we moved from Seattle to Utah so that she could grow up near her half-brothers. A short twenty months later I had a son after four and a half months of bed rest. When he was ten months old, I informed the doctor that I wanted to have one more child, but that they had to be farther apart. Either I was a totally suck-tastic mother or my children were literally more than I could handle. The doctor informed me in return….Guess what? You are already pregnant.

Three kids in three and a half years. Try writing anything through that and I’ll personally bake you a cake.

I attempted to salvage my feeble writing career by attending a myriad of local writing conferences and by joining two different critique groups. Their feedback was invaluable. But as I read their stories and compared them to mine, I wanted to cry. However, I’m the type of person who is just too stubborn to give up. I hung in there, submitted crap, and took the feedback as my saving grace and ran with it.

Our chaotic life then spiraled out of control. I ruptured a disc in my back that required major surgery. What writing I did attempt felt like crap, and I felt like the grand prize winner of the Worst Mother of the Year award. On top of that, my husband had a bad reaction to medication, sending him into six months of suicidal tendencies.

That is when I met Bonnie (a.k.a. the most incredible counselor in the universe). She was exactly what I needed in a counselor—long almost black hair, bangles up the arms, at least four necklaces, ripped leather pants, camouflage shirt, combat boots, and a bike jacket. Bonnie became my counseling version of the fairy godmother. She helped me learn what I could control, what I couldn’t, and how to see the difference.

Then in 2014 my littlest son hit me in the head with a car seat, giving me a concussion and one of the greatest miracles of my life. Because of my concussion the doctors did several MRIs and identified “three white matter brain lesions in non-MS typical locations.” This simply means… I’m a writer in transition to superhero glory.

I wish.

At the same time all three of my kids were diagnosed with special needs—running from ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder, Moderate-functioning Autism, aggressive tendencies, and developmental delays. My kids are pretty much creative geniuses that learn uniquely and see the world in remarkable ways while not grasping social expectations. The truth behind the difficult paths I traveled hit me when I made Bonnie cry. (There’s no crying in therapy! Oh wait….yes, there is. Just not usually from your counselor.)

So how do I balance life and writing in this chaos? I don’t. Thanks to those tiny aliens in my noggin’, the three precious miracle children in my life, a very supportive husband, and my genius counselor, I’ve had to learn to let go. Instead I wing it. Personally, I can’t write at night. I cherish my sleep way too much. And I already get up at oh-dark-thirty thanks to my autistic son who doesn’t require anywhere near a decent amount of sleep. So instead, for four days a week in the precious two hours that all three kids are in special needs classes, I attempt to write. Just like in college, I still tend to work best under pressure, so I set deadlines and goals to keep me motivated (and yes, chocolate and caffeine are often involved). Then there’s my amazing husband who will stay home with the kids and send me off to the library to work when I require a much needed sanity break. (Back off ladies, he’s mine!)

Through it all I’ve written two novels, unpublished to date, but they will be published someday. I’ve had a piece published in a magazine about what it is like being a stepmom. Another piece won first place in an online writing contest and was included in an anthology on being a mommy writer. My third essay came out last year on the trials my husband and I experienced going through fertility issues. And my first ever short story was published this last Christmas to help raise money for Primary Children’s Hospital.

Yes, my life is still a ball of intense chaos, but I love it. It is not easy. But the fight is worth it. And thanks to a brilliant counselor, I’ve had to learn that if I want to survive, if I want to thrive, I must do something that takes care of me—and that something is writing. I’m worth it.

Karen Pellett is a crazy woman with a computer, and she’s not afraid to use it. Most of her time is spent between raising three overly brilliant and stinkin’ cute children, playing video games with her stepsons, and the rare peaceful moment with her husband. When opportunity provides she escapes to the alternate dimension to write fantasy & magical realism novels, the occasional short story, and essays on raising special needs children. Karen lives, plots & writes in American Fork, Utah.



P.S. I highly recommend reading the blog Fictorians for other information, ideas, and such from other authors at all levels of their writing journey. You should check it out.

Remembering The Whys

The last few months have been more than a bit overwhelming, to the point that I've had multiple doctors make sure that I was on anti-depressants or anxiety medicine just because of what they heard was going on with my kids.  I even had one doctor look at me and shake his head and say, "I honestly have no clue how you do it."  At times like this I recall to mind what a cousin with an autistic son once posted on Facebook, "I didn't know there was a choice."

But, with the help of a lot of Santas' little elves who are making a Christmas happen that seriously would not otherwise happen, I've been reminded again why I care so much about my kids (even on the beyond hard days). It took me six years to have Rose. Six years of tests, treatments, and tears (not including all the shots multiple times a day and all the various medication I had to take to get pregnant and stay pregnant).  I signed up to be a mom.  With all its glorious poopy diapers, vomit encrusted pillows, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes.

Yesterday was an extremely difficult day for me. I've had insomnia the last several nights and I was dealing with a massive migraine, my ACL joint is out of whack for a week now, my own sensory overload, and I have to wait until the new year kicks off before I can see the chiropractor again about my collar bone being dislocated thanks to maxed out insurance. My kids were literally bouncing off the walls and each other. Then, as the kids were being corralled up to bed full of tears, screams and tantrums, some amazing people came by to make sure we were going to have a Christmas. And they weren't the only ones. Through the last few weeks I've had people take me aside to make sure that we were okay and that the kids would have something to open Christmas Day.  I even ran out of wrapping paper yesterday trying to wrap the two gifts we were able to get the kids ourselves. And by the end of the night we heard a knock on the door. I ran downstairs to find a roll of wrapping paper left by a friend and her family wishing us Happy Wrapping.

I sat down multiple times last night and cried. We are watched over. We are cared for. There are angels all around us. And its good to remember that I have three little angels with halos sometimes a skewed living right upstairs. I wanted them in my life and I went through hell to get them here. So like Bing Crosby in the movie White Christmas I started counting my blessings. Counting all the smiles, hugs, laughter and twinkling eyes that I've been blessed with over the last six and a half years. I wanted these children with all my heart, and I still do. They are my miracles, even when holidays mess with their routines and throw them out of sync.

And I'm grateful for all the wonderful friends, family, angels, and secret Santas in my life that make sure I remember the whys behind my life.

Today's Win

Ever since I had Juniper, nearly three years ago, it has been a slow progression getting to a point where I feel like I could "handle" things again.  Once I hit three kids (and long before I knew all three were special needs) I found it difficult to let my kids go play outside. For one thing the kids now outnumbered the parents.  We simply didn't have enough hands.  For another thing its hard to watch one kid sneak behind the nearby buildings while another is running into the busy street and the third is randomly walking into our neighbors houses.

In all honesty it was a bit overwhelming for me.  Plus, for a while I was going through postpartum depression that did nothing to help the situation. Then throw in back surgery for good measure.  Usually I would wait until my husband got home and asked him to take the kids outside.  He was better at not freaking out over whatever our kids were doing.  He was more calm and collected and kept better tabs over our motley crew.

Well, today was a win for me because I let all three kids out front this morning into the communal grassy area to play.  I even brought out their toddler slide and popped up a blanket and pillow in the shade for me to keep a careful I on them.  My eyes still darted nervously around the common area and I still had to call for Juniper when he wondered to close to the road (my neighbor and I were totally astounded when he actually listened and came back without me having to chase him down). 

We were actually out there for at least an hour or longer and I'm still mentally sane and didn't lose any children in the process.  I would call that a WIN on my part.  Now time for some celebratory chocolate and maybe a nap.  ;-)

Teaching Gratitude

This last few days I have been struggling and praying to know how to improve as a mother. I'm actually a fairly good mom, but I want to be a better one.  I've noticed with Rose especially that she has been getting upset over everything. Part of that is because of how she processes/doesn't process her senses. She frequently gets emotionally confused and overloaded and ends up screaming "I'll never ever get to do (enter object or activity here) ever again."  Then she runs to her room and slams the door.  A few minutes later she will come down and apologize profusely in hopes that that will solve everything.  I keep telling her that I'm grateful that she says she is sorry, but I need her to show me that she is sorry but striving to be better.

Teaching how to "be better" is hard when you're trying to explain it to any kid, but especially those with special needs. I often wonder how much my kids actually understand of what I'm trying to teach them.  They hear differently, their brains are wired uniquely. They understand in their own way. 

So my new tactic is to try and teach Rose of the wonderful people and things that she already has in her life. To change from focusing on what she doesn't or can't have and instead focus on being glad for what she does have.

Two days ago I told her to spend a day thinking about five things that she was happy about or happy to have. Then when we would meet the next night for personal prayers I would tell her 5 things I was grateful for and she could tell me 5 things that she was happy for and together that would be 10 whole things.

Here is the list that she came up with:

- I'm happy for bunny (her stuffed rabbit)
- I'm grateful for my Pokémon book with bulbasaur in it
- I'm glad that I have friends
- I'm glad for my toys
- I'm glad for you Mommy


Here was my list:

- I'm grateful for blankets to tuck you in at night
- I'm grateful for a car that gets us to church, school, exercise, and to the store
- I'm grateful for my daughter who teaches me to be better
- I'm grateful for your daddy for he makes me smile
- I'm grateful for food on our table


Our plan is that each night we will keep tell each other five new things that we each are grateful for or make us happy. Hopefully it will help us learn to see more of the beauty in life and each other instead of both of us focusing on the things that frustrate both of us about each other. I believe its the right step for each of us at this time.

Enforcing Boundaries

Today I took the kids with me to our local exercise group. We used to go all the time, but had to stop for health reasons. Just recently we have started to go again, but now my kids don't remember the rules. While the moms workout in the gym the kids get to play with toys on the blue carpeted overflow next to us. Today my kids were the only little ones there and they decided to push the boundaries.

Rose was supposed to be working on her homework first -two pages in her 1st grade practice book--before she was allowed to play with the toys. This is something that should take 15 minutes max. Yeah by the end of an hour she had lost several privileges and was still forced to finish her two pages. And now she is mad at me because the consequence of her actions was to be grounded from mommy's kindle until after lunch. Oh well.

Cyprus decided to see if he could get away with lining up all the vehicle toys and shoving them out onto the gym floor so he "had" to go get them. Once he was out there then he should get to play right?  Yeah, no. He got two time outs (sitting buckled in the double stroller until ready try again).

Now, Juniper is Juniper. He's a three-strikes and you're out kind of kid. He tried escaping out the gym door twice. Then on the third time I stood with him on the carpet and showed him where it was okay to play and that he should not cross the boundary on to the gym floor. So this kid runs up and down the line separating the two rooms and then, while I'm looking directly at him, taps one toe over the line onto the gym floor. He got three time outs which left him in the stroller until the end of class.

I understand that all kids need boundaries and rules, but special needs kids need a clear understanding of them to help regulate their behavior. The goal now is for this tired mommy to stay consistent in enforcing the boundaries so that they do become totally clear.

So here's to trying again tomorrow.

Personal Entourage

Ever since school got out I have my own personal entourage. Kids laying by my door waiting for me to get up for the day. Me tripping over kids who follow everywhere I go (within a one foot radius). Kids panicking if mommy even looks like she's going to be headed out the door.


I over did it yesterday in a cleaning frenzy, and since we had a meeting with an insurance guy this morning, my husband worked from home and offered to watch the kids while I slept in.  (Yes, I have a remarkable husband. You can't have him.) 


Once again at 6 am Cyprus was laying by our door kicking the security gate. Frank got up with him and locked our bedroom door so that I could go back to bed.  I eventually got up at 9 a.m but all three kids at one point or another came knocking at my door. Frank even said that when he came upstairs to get the kids their clothes all three kids were lying on the floor outside of our bedroom.  Just laying there. Waiting on mommy. 


Also, when Rose had gotten up for the morning she came to our door and I heard her knock quietly. When I refused to answer she knocked a bit louder. Then louder. And louder. And then started screaming.  I called out that I was sleeping at that she should go downstairs where daddy and breakfast was. Rose went back to her room and screamed for the next several minutes about how she didn't want to go back to sleep and that she couldn't go downstairs without mommy. I even heard Frank trying to talk to her and calm her down.


Later, when we sat down with the insurance agent, all three kids came into the room and suddenly wanted to sit on our laps and Rose even started rubbing my face and purred like a kitten.  Then when I went around the house taking pictures of everything in order to record what we own in case of a fired the whole motley crew followed me around on my heels, trying to add their two cents to the photographs.


Its a good thing my kids are so awesome and I love them so much.  And I'm so incredibly gratefully for the fantastic husband who supports our crazy life.  I am truly blessed (even if feeling slightly claustrophobic at the moment).