My kids call me the Mental Mommy. We even made matching t-shirts to commemorate it. The nickname could have evolved because there are four of them and only one of me, and since they outnumber me, some days Mommy goes a little…well, mental. But when I asked my oldest where they came up with it, she told me it’s because of my books, since they know I write stories about domestic drama, particularly mothers and their families. I remember sighing with relief when my daughter shared that…and then she elaborated that it fascinates them that their mom writes about murder and motherhood. I’m sure I’ll be paying for their therapy over it someday.
One Perfect Morning
Motherhood is tough. It stretches you in ways you never imagine—both in how it fills you with a sacrificial love more limitless than the skies and pushes your buttons more than a trigger-happy child on an elevator. But we rarely see the darker side of motherhood in fiction. In most books, moms are always perfectly patient with their kids, and children rarely seem to bother them. In real life, kids are noisy, messy, curious, always talking over you, screaming a thousand “Mommy’s!” a day. There’s a lot of drama that comes with being a parent—whether your child is little or big—and to me, it makes a more exciting family dynamic in fiction.
If you’re a parent, you know exactly what I’m talking about. When your toddler paints his bedroom in poo. Or when your five-year-old plays hairdresser and cuts her sister’s hair in a style even the 1980s would disown. You may even have a Houdini on your hands who escapes your grasp the moment you let go to adjust your purse—just for a second, but one second too long. The next thing you know you’re frantically searching for him, screaming his name, the police now on speed-dial, only to find out he was standing two feet away from you the whole time. Yes, that really happened.
From there, the problems grow bigger, like when your pre-teen first learns how to talk back or swear (they certainly didn’t learn that word from me!). By the time they hit puberty, lying is an art form. I’m sure the sex talks are super fun at that age too. Don’t get me started on the drama amongst teens. It makes me faint just thinking about it. (Thank God I still have a few years until my own reach that terrifying age.)
In every domestic thriller I write, I insert parts of my own parenthood into the drama, because life with kids is full of it. Kids are little rebels, always wanting their own way, always watching the world around them, wondering how they can tame it for their own. So, I feature those rebellious children, angsty teens, and miniature spitfires (loosely based on my youngest child, whom the principal of our school fondly describes as a spitfire). I also have an autistic son, and I’ve learned so much from his personality and uniqueness that I like to pass on to some of my younger characters.
I remember telling the kids about the new book Mommy was writing, One Perfect Morning, and how it featured two mothers who are best friends. Taking out a piece of paper, I asked them for ideas on what kinds of bad things kids might do in a story (not in real life, I added—never in real life).
“Sneak out of school,” one said. “Get in a fight,” another replied. “Steal,” they added. “Eat Mommy’s special candy,” said the spitfire. (How did she find my secret candy stash, anyway?) After jotting down their ideas for how to add realistic kid drama, I had a page full of devious deeds that could shatter a family. And I used them to tear apart—and reunite—a pair of best friends in One Perfect Morning.
Then I wrote this at the bottom of the page:
“I will never act like any of Mommy’s characters” and asked each of my kids to sign below it. I’m sure that will hold up in court, right? Anyone with kids knows that the day-to-day drama with children can drive you homicidal. From one Mental Mommy to another, I won’t judge you, but feel free to tell me about your child’s antics and you might just see them in my next book!