Is this really my life?

I had one of those Is this really my life moments today.

I think every mother has moments like this. Where they look around and want to know what in the world is going on all around them, and how the fricken frack they got there.

Well today was one of those moments.

Over the past four days, I recieved "the call" that every writer waits and prays for; I signed a contract with Entangled Publishing; I filled out an author bio page and a marketing questionaire; sent in my author photos; and started my first pass edits......

Um.

Holy sh**.

I'm gonna be a published author!

So there I was this morning.....emailing my PUBLICIST, which in and of itself was enough to make me turn cartwheels (which, for a fat girl is no small feat), and editing my novel, and clickety clacking away on my computer...

And my youngest came up to me with crap on his hands. Mond you, we're talking about SH**. Poop. Fecal matter. Feces. Shizzle.

All over his little baby fingers, and underneath his fingernails.

Oh Lord!

So here I am...with one foot in the fancy schmancy world of romance writing...and the other in my tiny house with four screaming kids and a kid covered in crap. One foot in meetings with editors and author photoshoots, and the other in scrushed fruit loops and boogers. One foot in marketing my romance novel, and the other in repeated viewings of Tangled and Toy Story 3.

And I looked around and thought......

Is this really my life?

Brooke Moss.