As someone who has had her nose in a book since the days of Dick and Jane, I can’t tell you what makes me love a story and read it to the end or what makes me sit it down and forget about it. In general, I’m drawn to books with female main characters, but something about their voice has to grab me and pull me in. I need to feel like they are talking to me. Talking about what, exactly? I never really know. But I can usually tell by the first paragraph whether I’m in or out.

I spent the weekend reading Robin O’Bryant’s Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. By the grace of God I found myself in a quiet house and read chapter after chapter without stopping.

Maybe it’s because Robin says things like “hell to the no”. (I’m going to borrow that). Or calls her lady parts her “Britney”. Or can talk about the real and less-than-pretty aspects of parenthood with her own unique brand of humor that makes me laugh out loud (instead of loti… laugh on the inside).

“I wrote it for moms in the trenches,” Robin says. “Because what we do can be so isolating that you start to feel crazy.” Can I get an amen? “I think anybody who likes to laugh will enjoy it, though. My self-syndicated humor column, Robin’s Chicks, has a really varied demographic and I love when I get an email from a guy in his 20s telling me that he and his childless girlfriend read my column out loud every week. I guess it’s good birth control.”

Speaking of birth control, Robin is the mom of three young girls and says she and her husband are done. And she offers this wise (and sanity-preserving) advice: “The only expert opinion that matters is your own. Everything else is a guideline. You know what’s best for your kids.”

She adds, “Laugh at the sheer absurdity of parenting and at the curve balls your kids throw your way. It really is better than fiction.” And ketchup is actually a fruit. According to Robin, it’s a fruit smoothie if you want to get technical.

Want a FREE copy of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Themselves? Leave a comment for a chance to win. Contest closes tomorrow (Tuesday) at 6am Eastern time. 

You can also buy the paperback or Kindle Edition on Amazon. (Kindle version is free to Amazon Prime members). If you’d like to purchase a signed copy click here.

I need to take a moment and brag on my friend, Robin O’Bryant. This week, her book Ketchup is a Vegetable:  And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves was the top rated parenting and family humor book on Amazon.com. Number freakin’ one. And it just went on sale, like, yesterday or something like that. (Robin, I see you with my x-ray vision doing the cabbage patch in the middle of your living room.)

I met Robin two years ago, when she lived in Charleston. A friend who worked at the Moultrie News told me about the paper’s new humor columnist and sent me the link to her blog. I hopped over to Robin’s Chicks and quickly fell in love with this stay-at-home mom who said she had written a book. She openly professed her dream of being a published author. In fact, I think at the top of her blog, there was a tab labeled “My Dream.” I emailed Robin and told her she was my new hero. Robin’s enthusiasm had given me courage to finish my own book.

Robin emailed me right back and suggested we get together sometime. Fast-forward a couple of weeks, and we’re having our first “date” on the elliptical machines at East Shore Athletic Club. Meeting at the gym was Robin’s brilliant idea because *hello* they have childcare. After our workout, we enjoyed more grown-up talk and drank protein shakes in peace. Here’s what I specifically remember: Robin was very clear on her mission as a writer. “My purpose,” she said, “is to make people laugh.”

So now that Robin is living her dream, we’re having part two of that conversation:

Robin: I realized my purpose was to make people laugh after people started reading my stuff and that’s what they did. I didn’t set out ‘to be funny,’ I just wrote and that was the reaction I got. Apparently, there’s a literary booger in my nose.

Angie: (Robin is bringing sexy boogers back.) How do you balance the humor with all the bad things that happen in the world?

R: I’m not a Pollyanna. I have my moments where I am totally overwhelmed by the hardness and harshness of life. I call my husband, my mom, my sister or my best friend and cry. I’ve simply learned that if I write about dark things, I think about dark things. I don’t want to capture the crap. Can I say that on your blog?

A: Yes, you can.

R: Should we put that on a t-shirt?

A: Yes, we should.

R: I want to capture the wonderfulness of every day. The little moments with my husband and three girls, that while simultaneously making me recite every curse word I know, make me thankful to be alive and be part of their family.

A: Do you have any advice for someone who needs more laughter in their life?

And come back Monday for your chance to WIN a copy! It’s Christmastime and Robin’s feeling generous.

Today in the comments, we’re saying no to crap! Do you remember a time that laughter saved you?

Each day after school, after Dillon has a snack and sufficient dose of mind numbing television (think Pokemon and Spongebob), he comes to the kitchen counter to do his homework. Then he goes outside to play. See, aren’t we so well-rounded?

During homework time, as he records his entries in his composition book, my main job is to make sure he’s following the instructions and forming letters correctly. I can’t tell him how to spell anything. He has to sound it out. Dillon’s class uses what’s known as invented spelling. The idea is to get them writing their thoughts quickly and easily in a first draft, without becoming bogged down with “getting it right”.

That sounds like the conversations I’ve had with my editor recently. She encourages to me to get into the flow of the story and worry about editing later. Which is a constant issue for a perfectionist like me. But the system totally works. Many times I go back to the writing and am surprised at how well the ideas have come together, because I’ve given them space to flow. Self-editing too soon blocks that flow.

So back to Dillon. He’s really getting the hang of it. Each week, I savor the papers that come home: Dillon writing about how much he loves me. How much he enjoyed our family trip to Universal Studios. And just how stinkin’ happy we are.

And then one day, I got this. See if you can figure it out:

Do you need a translator? My adorable snuggle puppy louded me out for forcing him to wear jeans. And I’m not sure what’s going on with the picture. Am I the big monster-sized person with ginormous hands? Or the strange vulture human hovering above? Either way, his account is correct. I was about to sell a kid that day. And his dad, too, when he told Dillon he could change into shorts. Don’t worry, they paid. When Mama’s not happy, nobody’s happy.

Anyway, I don’t think Dillon has a problem with the whole “getting ideas out on paper” thing. You?

So there you have it. It’s not always hearts and flowers in happy land. And I’m really so proud of that kid. He keeps me humble, for sure.

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