Smells like waffle cones

copyright istockphoto.com/unalozman

copyright istockphoto.com/unalozman

I have a completed, edited manuscript. Mind if I repeat that?

I have a completed, edited manuscript.

I'm no longer writing a book. I've written it. It's no longer a draft. It is done. 

If you're wondering how that feels, well, to me it feels like I've slammed a couple shots of Jager. Like I'm standing outside myself with a really good buzz and no bar tab (and no hangover) inside a strange world of awesome.

This is not the end of the road. It's a milestone. And if you're like me and used to running, sometimes it's difficult to stop and rest. Even on the day I found out we were having a baby girl, I celebrated the beautiful, sunshiny day by driving from one end of town to the other, keeping an eye on the clock.

Yesterday, my family and our good friends rode our bikes from their house in Mount Pleasant to the county park. Our ages range from 39 to 2, and as we traveled along the sidewalks of a busy road, I joked we looked like a pack of ducks when we crossed the intersections. Cars yielded and gave us the right-of-way as the eight of us quacked, quacked, quacked on by. I don't think those cars wanted to kill us, but they certainly didn't want to wait either.

Most of us don't enjoy sitting idle, and there's a danger in doing that for too long. For example, after we visited the park and began our two mile trek back, we stopped at a yogurt shop. Oh my golly, I've never been to a yogurt shop like this. It smelled like what I imagine heaven smells like (or Willy Wonka's place). Warm waffle cones and dozens of yogurt flavors (self-serve!) and even more toppings. I'm glad I'm pregnant, because no one even blinked at the amount of pure, authentic goodness I poured into my cup. (They charge by the pound. The yogurt, not me.)

We sat outside and enjoyed our treats. And then, Shawn said, "Okay, let's go." He saw the looks on our faces. If we had sat there one minute longer, we would've slipped into yogurt-induced comas and not wanted to complete the trek to the finish line.

So, I'm eager to keep going, but it was nice to take some time to soak it all in. Here's how I did it:

~Took a bubble bath

~Took a nap

~Sat in the backyard in a camping chair and watched Shawn do yard work, while Blake rolled around in an empty, dirty, plastic swimming pool.

~Made lasagna.

~Cried when I watched E.T. (At the end when he tells Elliott, "I'll be right here." Boo hoo hoo hoo)

~Laughed when I watched The Switch with Jennifer Aniston (love her) and Jason Bateman (still so fine).

~And took a snapshot in my mind when my 5 1/2 year old's eyes lit up and said, "That means you're an author?" I was tempted to say, "Well, I still have to get published." But no. Stop it, inner critic. Just stop it. You have not been invited to this party. And I replied, "Yes. Yes, I am."