When I was 9 I fell through the ceiling right above my parents' bed. I'd made a secret club-house in the attic and didn't know you weren't supposed to walk on sheet-rock. I was straddling a 2x4 when it collapsed. That was the first time I ever heard my mom swear.
When I was 13 I had horrible acne and spent school lunches hiding in a bathroom stall or reading in the library.
When I was 16 I was raped in my own bedroom while my parents were away.
When I was 17 I began an unhealthy relationship with a cheating boyfriend.
We fell in love and got a dog.
When I was twenty-four, after much pondering and time apart to evaluate my priorities, I was smart enough to marry him. He's made me laugh and feel special every day since.
When I was 27 I lost my mom, slowly, to an autoimmune disease: Behcet's Syndrome. It was the most heartbreaking period of my life.
When I was 30 I had my first baby boy. He looks and acts very much like me, but has his daddy's sense of humor.
When I was 32 I had my second baby boy. He looks like Pat, but has my tower-of-tires temperament. He's a firecracker with the occasional sputter of sweetness.
When I was 34 my debut YA novel was accepted for publication by "namelos". It will be released in 2012. A lifelong dream come true.
So that's me. I've survived, and I've been blessed.
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