It's a toss-up

It was a toss up today as to whether to write about my dad or my husband. So I'll take the opportunity to brag on them both.

Trust me, to that end, this blog post could go on forever...or at least to novel length. I'm on deadline this week so this post will be kinda short. Speaking of deadlines though, hubby knows that I am writing on a tight deadline this week. In addition to being brave enough to conquer Mount Laundry for me this week, he brought in two (2!!!) HUGE cups of McDonald's Sweet Tea yesterday...

When did he figure out that I love to sip on it (in between water bottles) when I write? And I have two days until deadline. That he takes enough interest in my writing to make making deadlines easier means so much. But the sweetest thing about yesterday wasn't exactly the tea.

It was when I took a stretch break and wandered into the living room to see my husband in the middle of the couch, all three of my girls cuddled up next to him watching Hanna Montana. I could tell by the wry humor on my husband's face that watching Hanna Montana was a real stretch for him. LOL! But that was one of many sweet images to add to my mental photo album...and the look on his face as he met my gaze was the sweetest thing of all. Because I know that man was thinking, "I'm doing this for you, so you can concentrate on writing the best book possible."

My June book, A Soldier's Reunion, that's in stores now was challenging for me to write in that the heroine's father wasn't really there for her, which led her to have trust issues later in life. My husband is such a great father and my dad was such a great father that one of my biggest challenges as an author is writing about characters who have a hard background as far as their parents.

I write military stories for the time being. My dad served as a Marine in Vietnam and they went through so much, not only during the war but once they came home. I have often wished the U.S. would make a day and have a redo of when those guys came home. And this time that the country would welcome them. My dad was pretty tough on us as far as when we'd say we couldn't do something. He'd prove to us that we could. I learned the courage to do many things because my dad wouldn't let me believe otherwise. He said that it's okay to fail as long as you did your best, but it wasn't okay to sit back and not try just because you think you can't do something. He said that to me when he and mom taught me how to ride a bike without training wheels. He said that to me when I broke and trained my own horse the first time. When I learned to use a firearm after him teaching me gun safety. When I learned to use a bow and arrows. When I learned to play chess and ride a motorcycle at age five. All those things and a gazillion more.

I came home once crying from school because my PE teacher and the class gave me a hard time and made fun of me because I couldn't do a push-up like a guy. Yes, I know I'm a girl and I tried explaining that to the PE teacher. But she was like a drill sergeant and refused to let girls do girlie push-ups. We had to do them like a guy. Only I couldn't.

So when my dad asked me what was wrong, I told him I was upset because they made fun of me because I couldn't do a push-up. Did he pull me in for a hug and tell me he was gonna go beat up the PE teacher for me as I'd hoped he'd say?

Nope. He smiled. Nodded and pulled me in for a quick hug then jabbed a finger at the floor and said, "Get down there and do a push-up."

Then he got down in the floor beside me and showed me the best way to build my arm muscles. Every single day he worked with me on practicing push-ups until I could do them. I was so mad at my dad at first...MAKING me do push-ups. But now, I understand that what he was trying to teach me. Failure is not an option. Well, it's an option but refusing to try because you think you'll fail is not an option.

Had it not been for my dad's manner of teaching and not allowing us to shy back from anything, I may not be the writer I am today. May not even have had the courage to try to be published. Nor would I have lasted the seven strenuous years and the seven manuscripts it took me to finally break in.

Likewise, if my cute, rocker dude husband didn't love me enough and wasn't willing enough to subject himself to shows like Hanna Montana, I'm not sure I'd have the privilege and honor of being able to blog with the rest of the Craftie Ladies of Romance. Such an honor and I'm so thankful to have men in my life who champion my dreams.

I pray that you do as well.


So, Cowboy Dad and Cute Rocker Dude...if you guys are listening...thanks!

Cheryl