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  • Leanne W. Smith

An Old Article...

Updated: Jun 8, 2018

Welcome to Throwback Thursday! I began professionally writing in the 90s with a newspaper column called “My Two Cents.” Thought you might enjoy this throwback to what I was thinking/feeling at that time.

Being a mom feels a lot like being a short-order cook.


“Hey? How ‘bout some service over here!” she yells.


“Hold on to your leotard! I’m comin’. Okay, kid. What’ll it be?”


Like I need to ask. If she ever changes her order I’ll swoon from shock. Peanut butter and honey are the foods that currently sustain her.


“Chips and cheese for you, I guess,” I say to the little one. She’s not a big conversationalist. Why talk when nodding and grunting get you what you want? Perhaps she is saving her vocal chords to be an internationally acclaimed soprano soloist. Then she’ll sing in Italian and I’ll never understand her. I think she’s speaking Cantonese now…something with a lot of consonants.


Being a mom feels a lot like being a short-order cook. They want it fast. They want it with a smile. And they leave lousy tips.


Being a mom feels a lot like being a doctor.


“Mom,” she whines. “I don’t feel good.”


“Where does it hurt?” you ask, reaching for her forehead with the palm of your hand.


She points to her ear; the forehead is warm. You know it’s a hundred and one before the thermometer confirms it. You call the pediatrician’s office and tell them it’s an ear infection. They make you bring her in so they can tell you it’s an ear infection.


Sometimes being a mom feels a lot like being a doctor except that you get to sit with the patient all night and they get fifty dollars for a glance.


Being a mom feels a lot like being a taxi service.


“I’m taking your oldest kid to ballet practice/ball practice/piano practice/to practice something that costs money and gives her peers and confidence,” you tell your husband. “Can you watch the other one for thirty minutes?”


“Sure, no problem,” he says with a smile. “Hey, while you’re out could you pick up my suit at the cleaner’s, drop these deposits off at the bank, get me a new computer ribbon at the print shop, pick up that gallon of paint from the hardware store and return this book to the library?”


“Sure, no problem,” you say, but secretly grit your teeth.


An hour and a half later you’re finally home with the suit, deposit slip, computer ribbon, paint and ballerina/ball player/musician and he says, “What took you so long? I need a break. When’s supper?”


Being a mother feels a lot like being a taxi service. One of these days I’m going to drive myself to Greece.

And a new prayer...


Father, 

In this season of high stress on a college campus...final assignments all coming due and final assignments to grade...I ask for peace, wisdom and courage, for those around me, and for myself.

You are the God who causes things to be. There is nothing too great for You.

I was reminded of this this morning. Today is April 12. Two years ago on April 21, my father was called home. And you sent me a sign, like dew on the fleece, from the hand of a prisoner to let me know he had been set free. (Read that story here.)

What a great and compassionate God you are!

As I prayed this morning, wanting some reassurance that I'm making a wise decision in self-publishing my second novel, I realized I was sitting in the middle of another sign. Today is April 12. Weeks ago I circled June 12 on my calendar as a target release date. Two years ago on June 21, the first novel was released. These numbers--1 and 2; 2 and 1--are my numbers.

You are the God who calms storms and hearts, who brings sunshine and warmth each spring.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine O what a foretaste of glory divine Heir of salvation, purchase of God Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood Perfect submission, all is at rest I in my Savior am happy and blessed Watching and waiting, looking above Filled with His goodness, lost in His love This is my story, this is my song Praising my Savior all the day long This is my story, this is my song Praising my Savior all the day long

I'll officially announce the release date of my second novel in an email/blog post next week. But the peace of that decision came this morning : )

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The Seymour Agency: Julie Gwinn, agent

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