A day in the life of Becky Pourchot
At seven, I rise from the couch, resreshed I pick out the twin’ school uniforms, then I peek on my fourteen year old son. “Good morning” I say. “Gruh!” he says back.
After getting the kids to school, I go out on the back porch by the pool (I know you’re thinking, poor thing, Florida life is hard). I turn on some very soft music and meditate for ten minutes. Just for reference, my mind on mediation looks about like this: “Ohm, Ohm….ohhh…We’re almost out of milk…Ohm…Did I forget to brush my teeth?...Ohm... Why am I so thirsty...Ohm…I wonder if I have diabetes….” Somewhere, around seven minutes, the ohms become more frequent and the urge to do a WebMD search diminishes and I feel I’ve accomplished something.
Somedays I’ll go for a run on the beach (I know, tough life.) When I return, I theoretically take a shower, but sometimes I skip it, sit down at my desk and let all my sweatiness inspire my writing. At about this time, my husband wakes up, peeks his head into my office and comments gently on my need to take a shower. I lift my armpit and direct the stench his way then continue writing.
I eat a lunch of microwavable Indian frozen meals, (as a way of assuring myself that I’m a worldly, cultured sort of gal) then return up stairs to work. I spend the next hour or two before the kids doing the business side of writing and publishing books, emailing contacts, coordinating local book signings, planning events, and sometimes writing out funny little stories like this.
The kiddies come home from school we chat for a bit, then I settle myself on Facebook for awhile teling my friends via the ‘like’ button that I think they’re clever and have an amazing ability to find funny memes.
I make dinner..usually a fine dish tomato/starch family…pizza spaghetti, meatball subs, or meatball spagettii pizza. After dinner sometimes we’ll walk up to Cliff’s Crab Muffins and grab some of their key lime tarts for dessert, then weput the kids to bed and collapse in front of the TV for some good sitcoms and I fall asleep on the couch, right where I started my morning.
After the birth of Ms. Pourchot’s twins six years ago, life seemed to slip into chaos. The family was eating Toaster Strudels for dinner, the house smelled of dirty diapers, and an infestation of moths descended on the kitchen like a team of unfed sumo wrestlers. She did what she could, but in her mind it was never enough. Rather than crumple under the unreachable demands of her new life Pourchot began a blog, confessing all of her hilarious shortcomings to Martha Stewart the “Great Goddess of Domesticity.”
The result became Forgive Me Martha an outrageously funny collection of short stories and poems full of honesty, humor, and humility, sending hope to those of us who fall short of being perfect.
Links to Book:
Becky M. Pourchot is the author of two semi-autobiographical humor books and the Hungry Ghost Series, a collection of paranormal books for young adults. She lives in Flagler Beach, Florida with her husband, fourteen year old son, and six year old twins and completely blames her demanding writing career for the state of her messy home.
There is only one way to win -- Confess your Worst Mommy Moment via comment.
Open to USA Only unless International Winner is willing to pay shipping.
Prize: Two winners will received a print copy of Forgive Me Martha. Winners will be selected by Becky M. Pourchot and Penelope Anne Bartotto.