Getting ready for this event was beyond stressful. When I say there was crying and screaming and gnashing of the teeth, there was. It was absolutely brutal in so many, unbelievable ways. The first night there, I wanted to leave and not even bother being there.
Part of the problem was that I was incredibly nervous about meeting all the folks that supported me over the last couple years, through Iraq and back again. Honestly, meeting every single person there was a phenomenal experience that I will blog about later.
No, the best person in the entire conference was someone who didn’t want to be here, who spent most of it pissed off and irritated and stressed out because there were two tired, over stimulated kids who probably never should have come.
The best person here was my husband. Not only did he smile when I told him that the meeting with my agent went spectacularly, not only did he kiss me when I was walking out the door to go to a party while he was trying to put the cranky kids to bed, he also washed laundry. He fed and bathed and entertained our kids while I walked around dazed and pretending to have it all together and that everything was just fine when inside, I felt like I was one false word from having a fabulous shoe down my throat.
My husband has just spent a week with the kids each afternoon so that I could meet other writers, spent time getting to know my agent, and meet people after hours in the bar. My husband made me laugh when I wanted to cry and smiled when I squeeled about meeting Nora Roberts.
He hates stuff like this. He hates being in a hotel room, trapped with the kids and running around like banshees. But tonight, the kids were crying, I was stressed out because I couldn’t get my bra to look right with my dress and my husband is unhooking it with me half ready to cry because I’m going to be late. And he gets me fixed, kisses me and says good luck.
And before you say I’m setting back feminism a hundred years by thanking my husband for doing something that I do every single day, let me expound just a titch. Since we’ve been back from Iraq, it’s been the mommy show. Every night, my kids want me to put them to bed. They want me there, even if I’m just giving them a kiss and a pat on the head before I tuck their blankets around them. So when I’m not there, my husband has to deal with two babies who are not only tired but stressed because they’re not quite understanding that mommy really is just downstairs. For my hubby to step up to the plate so that I could step out, literally, to mingle with publishing people, was pretty awesome in my book.
This man is man of the year in my book. I love him even more because he went through all of this to help me have an amazing first conference. I am so incredibly lucky to have him, unhooking my bra as I run out the door and smiling when I tell him that yes, I am going to sell a book this year.
Thank you, honey, for supporting me when all you wanted to do was scream. I love you.