Book, Mother’s Day card, and tissue – 3 Day Sale!

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Three days left to get In Celebration of Mothers for only $10!

Take advantage of this special sale by April 30th and get a FREE package of Mother’s Day tissue paper (value $1.99) and a FREE Mother’s Day card too! (Value $5.99 – $7.99)

Card One: Felted MOM musical card, “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong. Inside reads: Hope your Mother’s Day is as wonderful as you!

Card Two: The World is More Beautiful, with wearable butterfly bracelet. Inside reads: …Because of moms like you. Happy Mother’s Day.

Card Three: Happy Mother’s Day (with specialty envelope for hand delivery only, or to be included with other larger mailer. Inside reads: Hope every moment blooms bright with smiles, warm memories and, most of all, love.

The book, tissue paper and card can be mailed directly to you for you to wrap and give.

Or, I can gift wrap the book, sign the card with your name, and mail directly to your choice of recipient.

You can purchase directly on my web site via paypal. ($10 plus $3.50 shipping.) Send any specific delivery instructions to me in an email at texastrishafaye@yahoo.com

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Card One

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Card Two

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Card Three

 

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In Celebration of Mothers

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“My mother lived through the depression, prohibition, numerous wars, including World War I and II, desegregation of schools, and saw women earn the right to vote. She is a tough, independent woman forced to fend for herself and her two children when my father died at age 43, after only fifteen years of marriage. I owe much to my mother, who raised me to value education, family life, and to treat others fairly.”

Penny Lockwood Ehrenkranz wrote these words about her mother in ‘One Hundred and Going Strong,’ an essay in In Celebration of Mothers. Unfortunately, during the publication process of the anthology, Penny’s mother passed away, two months shy of her 101st birthday. But the lessons Susan Elizabeth Lockwood taught her daughter will live on as her legacy.

Another woman wasn’t as lucky to have her mother live such a long life. In ‘Redwood Park’, Nan Sanders Pokerwinski writes of her parent’s visit shortly after her marriage.

“The visit matters, not only because it’s my parents’ first to my new home, but because we all know it will be my mother’s last. Already she has outlived the doctors’ expectations, but the cancer has spread from her breasts to her spine.”

As they drive through the park, her mother points to an empty picnic table. “If I lived here, I’d bring my lunch to this park and have a picnic every day.”

In closing, Nan writes:

“My mother and I will talk about many things over the next few days, yet only her comment from the backseat, uttered without iron or regret, will stay with me. When I look back on this day, in forty or fifty years, I will have left the husband and lost the Saucy Onion Chicken recipe. My bathroom will need cleaning. And I will be sitting, sandwich in hand, on a park bench in sunshine.”

In ‘The Love I Hold in My Heart,’ Cindy Nappa McCabe writes of how her nieces and nephews filled her life and heart with love. She says:

“Women who have given birth often claim that it is what completed them to feel what a woman is meant to feel, what she is meant to be. We childless mothers often stand aside, feeling less than a woman. Yet so many of us are like mothers, having loved in the same way a mother does. We need to own that and give ourselves that credit. We are not any less a woman.”

She closes with:

“My womb may have always been empty, but my heart has been full…thank you for touching my life and allowing me to touch yours. I have been blessed.”

Motherhood – it’s the love and care you feel for your own mother, living or past, the joy and delights you have with your own children, and as Cindy Nappa McCabe shares, sometimes it’s the love for the blessings that fill your life – even if you didn’t give birth to them yourselves.

Want to read more about the delightful world of motherhood? Would you like a copy to give to your own mother or child? The front has an empty lined page for ‘A Special Message for You’ where you can write your own message. Following the special message page are poems and essays by 26 different authors – all celebrating motherhood in all of its various stages.

You can get your copy or ebook at Amazon here.

During April, you can get your copy direct from the author for only $10 (Regularly priced $13.99)

 

 

 

 

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Sharing the Love – of Mothers and Sisters

Valentine’s Day focuses on expressing your love – greatly for romantic partners, but also for friends, family members and other loved ones in our life. Two of my anthologies share many stories by a diverse group of talented authors of the love for their sisters and mothers: In Celebration of Sisters, and In Celebration of Mothers.

To share the love, during the month of love, for the next ten days, you can purchase a set of both books directly from me and SAVE $10!

One of the essays included in In Celebration of Mothers, ‘OMG! I’m Becoming My Mother’, takes a humorous look at the things that pop out of my mouth as I get older. Originally published on Scary Mommy, it’s reprinted in this anthology. In In Celebration of Sisters, I highlighted some of our many differences in ‘Not Two Peas in a Pod.’

For a few chuckles to lighten your day, here is OMG! I’m Becoming My Mother!

OMG, I’m Becoming My Mother

Trisha Faye

I opened my mouth the other day, and my mother popped out.

This was not supposed to happen, ever—at least not when I am still this young.

My sister and I used to joke together, back in our younger days (like, in our 30s) about how our mother was turning into Grandma. We’d chuckle that self-righteous laugh, because we knew that was never going to happen to us.

But somewhere along the line, we grew older and slid into another decade. We didn’t recognize that fact, at least not out loud and not to one another. After all, those odd stray gray hairs appearing at the most inopportune moments can be covered up. That “middle-age stretch?” Well, that’s what blousy tops and jeans with spandex are for. We can still rock it with the best of them…mostly.

Then one afternoon, after a particularly aggravating argument with a teenager, my lips parted, and my mother came hopping out: “Jason Patrick Dean (name changed to protect the not-so-innocent), if all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?!”

Oh my God.

There are no appropriate words to describe the look on my face when I recognized the momentous event that had just happened. How many times had I heard this same exact phrase throughout my own teenage years? I called my sister to commiserate. “I know,” she said. “I’ve already heard Mom’s words come out of my mouth too.”

For the record, although she is several years younger than I am, my sister started her family earlier, so she was slightly ahead of me on this downward slide. “I was afraid to say anything. I hoped it wasn’t happening,” she said. As we started talking and comparing notes, we came to the conclusion that we’d been guilty of this for more years than we cared to admit.

“Don’t make me come in there!”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“I know all. I have eyes in the back of my head.”

“As long as you live under my roof…”

“Close the door. Do you live in a barn?”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Do you think money grows on trees?”

“Because I’m the mom.”

“Because I said so.”

The statements varied with the ages of the children. There were the standard responses we used on the younger ones, and then as their years advanced, we gradually slipped into the intermediate course of Mother Talk, rapidly earning credits that would have us graduating with honors.

The day when that first phrase leaps out and you recognize that it’s your mother talking instead of calm, rational, grown-up, independent you–I think that’s your graduation day, the day you take the mantel (whether you want it or not) and carry on down the road. That’s the day when you realize you’re on a long, slippery slope and you’re sliding down it much faster than you ever expected to.

Not that we’d ever wished to move on down this road. During our 20s and 30s, we thought we were immune to this syndrome. We were strong. We were invincible. We were our own women, not ones who would parrot our mother for the rest of our lives.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three.”

“I’ve had it up to here!”

“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

The memories of words spoken long ago come drifting back through my memory. That’s when I realize I’ve been my mother all along. This change didn’t magically appear in my 40s. I’ve been her. I’ve just dressed her up in different clothes and makeup to disguise something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I’ll treat you like an adult when you become an adult.”

I guess I am now officially an adult.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry for all the times we laughed about how you were becoming more like Grandma Jones every day.

While we’re on the subject, I may as well apologize for all the times I talked back to you. For the times I didn’t clean my room—instead, I shoved everything under my bed. For the times I lied to you about where I’d been or what I’d done. For all the times I didn’t appreciate you or the sacrifices you made to give us what you could.

“If I told you once, I told you a thousand times…” Yes, you did probably tell us a thousand times, just as we’ve repeated to our own children.

I take a look in the mirror. A slight twist, a slight squint of the eyes. Yes, there she is—my mother. Maybe this growing older part isn’t all as bad as I’d thought.

***

Did you miss getting these books when they first came out? Here’s your chance to pick up a set of them – and Save $10! FOR TEN DAYS ONLY!

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Iona Mae Burk, the mother that inspired these words

Win a FREE copy of In Celebration of Mothers

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Want a chance to win a FREE copy of In Celebration of Mothers?

May 7th I’m giving away one free print copy and three PDF versions of this anthology celebrating motherhood.

All you need to do is subscribe to my new newsletter, Trisha’s Tidbits. The newsletter comes out once a week and that’s all you’ll get. No, I’m not going to fill up your inbox with countless messages. Promise!

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Everyone who subscribes by Saturday, May 6th, will be entered into the drawing. The winners will be announced in the May 7th newsletter. There are lots of other contests in the works, including one for a $10 Amazon gift card when we hit the 100 subscriber mark. Each week will also have a story snippet in it or an excerpt from a current book. There will also be chances to win Advance Reader Copies of future and existing books, in exchange for an honest review. Subscribers will get the first chances for these opportunities.

To see more about In Celebration of Mothers, you can check it out here.

A mother listening to her child’s heartbeat. A mother soothed as she holds her son’s hand. A daughter grateful for the pearls of wisdom from her mother, gracing her neck in an invisible strand long after her mother’s life on earth. Memories of special Easter dresses. A mother’s purse full of delightful objects. A mother dancing around the kitchen as she shares music with her son while they mop. Shopping trips with mother’s that are more than mere chores. The stories here celebrate mothers and the glorious world of motherhood, in all its variations. Mothers celebrating their own children, and children paying tribute to their mothers. Take a peek inside to join the celebration. In Celebration of Mothers, women share stories of gratitude. The contributors write of their thankfulness for their mothers, for what they’ve learned through the years, for the acts of kindness and sacrifice their mothers exhibited. If the mother has too short of a life, as in Redwood Park, or if she lives a long, full life to over 100 years old, as in One Hundred and Going Strong or My Mom, My Angel, a common trait is shared; a deep, abiding love for mothers and the state of motherhood.

Want to try for a chance at your copy? Sign up for Trisha’s Tidbits here.

Goodreads Giveaway – In Celebration of Mothers

Want a free copy of In Celebration of Mothers? There’s a Goodreads giveway for a free copy. Get your copy just in time for Mother’s Day.

Giveaway ends April 1st.

ENTER HERE!

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Read more about In Celebration of Mothers here.

A mother listening to her child’s heartbeat. A mother soothed as she holds her son’s hand. A daughter grateful for the pearls of wisdom from her mother, gracing her neck in an invisible strand long after her mother’s life on earth. Memories of special Easter dresses. A mother’s purse full of delightful objects. A mother dancing around the kitchen as she shares music with her son while they mop. Shopping trips with mother’s that are more than mere chores. The stories here celebrate mothers and the glorious world of motherhood, in all its variations. Mothers celebrating their own children, and children paying tribute to their mothers. Take a peek inside to join the celebration. In Celebration of Mothers, women share stories of gratitude. The contributors write of their thankfulness for their mothers, for what they’ve learned through the years, for the acts of kindness and sacrifice their mothers exhibited. If the mother has too short of a life, as in Redwood Park, or if she lives a long, full life to over 100 years old, as in One Hundred and Going Strong or My Mom, My Angel, a common trait is shared; a deep, abiding love for mothers and the state of motherhood.

OMG, I’m Becoming My Mother

Originally published at Scary Mommy and republished in In Celebration of Mothers.

OMG, I’m Becoming My Mother

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Iona Mae Burk – the mother that pops out of my mouth when I least expect it.

I opened my mouth the other day, and my mother popped out.

This was not supposed to happen, ever—at least not when I am still this young.

My sister and I used to joke together, back in our younger days (like, in our 30s) about how our mother was turning into Grandma. We’d chuckle that self-righteous laugh, because we knew that was never going to happen to us.

But somewhere along the line, we grew older and slid into another decade. We didn’t recognize that fact, at least not out loud and not to one another. After all, those odd stray gray hairs appearing at the most inopportune moments can be covered up. That “middle-age stretch?” Well, that’s what blousy tops and jeans with spandex are for. We can still rock it with the best of them…mostly.

Then one afternoon, after a particularly aggravating argument with a teenager, my lips parted, and my mother came hopping out: “Jason Patrick Dean (name changed to protect the not-so-innocent), if all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?!”

Oh my God.

There are no appropriate words to describe the look on my face when I recognized the momentous event that had just happened. How many times had I heard this same exact phrase throughout my own teenage years? I called my sister to commiserate. “I know,” she said. “I’ve already heard Mom’s words come out of my mouth too.”

For the record, although she is several years younger than I am, my sister started her family earlier, so she was slightly ahead of me on this downward slide. “I was afraid to say anything. I hoped it wasn’t happening,” she said. As we started talking and comparing notes, we came to the conclusion that we’d been guilty of this for more years than we cared to admit.

“Don’t make me come in there!”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“I know all. I have eyes in the back of my head.”

“As long as you live under my roof…”

“Close the door. Do you live in a barn?”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Do you think money grows on trees?”

“Because I’m the mom.”

“Because I said so.”

The statements varied with the ages of the children. There were the standard responses we used on the younger ones, and then as their years advanced, we gradually slipped into the intermediate course of Mother Talk, rapidly earning credits that would have us graduating with honors.

The day when that first phrase leaps out and you recognize that it’s your mother talking instead of calm, rational, grown-up, independent you–I think that’s your graduation day, the day you take the mantel (whether you want it or not) and carry on down the road. That’s the day when you realize you’re on a long, slippery slope and you’re sliding down it much faster than you ever expected to.

Not that we’d ever wished to move on down this road. During our 20s and 30s, we thought we were immune to this syndrome. We were strong. We were invincible. We were our own women, not ones who would parrot our mother for the rest of our lives.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three.”

“I’ve had it up to here!”

“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

The memories of words spoken long ago come drifting back through my memory. That’s when I realize I’ve been my mother all along. This change didn’t magically appear in my 40s. I’ve been her. I’ve just dressed her up in different clothes and makeup to disguise something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I’ll treat you like an adult when you become an adult.”

I guess I am now officially an adult.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry for all the times we laughed about how you were becoming more like Grandma Jones every day.

While we’re on the subject, I may as well apologize for all the times I talked back to you. For the times I didn’t clean my room—instead, I shoved everything under my bed. For the times I lied to you about where I’d been or what I’d done. For all the times I didn’t appreciate you or the sacrifices you made to give us what you could.

“If I told you once, I told you a thousand times…” Yes, you did probably tell us a thousand times, just as we’ve repeated to our own children.

I take a look in the mirror. A slight twist, a slight squint of the eyes. Yes, there she is—my mother. Maybe this growing older part isn’t all as bad as I’d thought.

 

 

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In Celebration of Mothers pays tribute to the many avenues of motherhood – from young mothers enjoying their children to mother missing the children in their nest, children’s memories of their mother’s and beautiful tributes to their lives, and the heartfelt thoughts from some who gave a mother’s love to their nieces and nephews. Many women and men shared tributes to mother’s gone from this earth too soon, to some who lived long full lives of over a hundred years old.

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