Welcome to Author Rachel McClellan
Once upon a time, in a wonderful and carefree world, Rachel McClellan fell asleep in a warm and spacious bed, her long hair in great locks around her, and not a single blemish upon her face. Outside her window, bluebirds sang and the cloudless blue sky was full of promise.
However, when she awoke she discovered gum in her now ratted hair, a tiny, chocolate fingerprint smeared across her forehead, and four very wiggly children crowding her bed. There were no bluebirds singing outside her window (or perhaps she couldn’t hear them anymore), only a tornado, pulsing with thunder and lightening. Her world was in chaos, a raging storm on all fronts.
But what a perfect storm it was…
Find Rachel
Confessions of a Cereal Mother
by Rachel McClellan
In this humorous memoir you’ll discover several mind-saving
rules, which include:
- Don’t throw your pregnancy test away before the full three minutes is up.
- Unless there is a rush on the grocery store pending a zombie-virus outbreak, never take your kids shopping.
- If your toddler is going to chew on a Band-Aid, hope it’s one found inside the community swimming pools chlorinated pool and not one found in their locker room.
- Never throw up in a cookie sheet.
- Things can always get worse. You could discover your child playing with a used tampon applicator. It’s not a whistle, sweetie.
- And most importantly, the moment one of your children is seriously ill, forget about everything else. You have the greatest honor in the world – being a Mom.
- Don’t throw your pregnancy test away before the full three minutes is up.
- Unless there is a rush on the grocery store pending a zombie-virus outbreak, never take your kids shopping.
- If your toddler is going to chew on a Band-Aid, hope it’s one found inside the community swimming pools chlorinated pool and not one found in their locker room.
- Never throw up in a cookie sheet.
- Things can always get worse. You could discover your child playing with a used tampon applicator. It’s not a whistle, sweetie.
- And most importantly, the moment one of your children is seriously ill, forget about everything else. You have the greatest honor in the world – being a Mom.
What others are saying:
"A realistic and humorous take on motherhood. Are you in my house?" --Robin O'Bryant, author of Indie Best-seller, "Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other lies Moms Tell Themselves."
"Delightfully humorous with factual truths about
motherhood and womanhood. You’ll immediately be hooked with her fun
story-telling and hilarious hooks. A truly fantastic read that will not only
lift your motherly spirit, but remind you what motherhood is truly all about…
and it’s all worth it." --Karie Elordi, author of the popular blog "The Dating Divas"
Guest Post
Guest Post
Sometimes holidays are rough
on Moms who are often so busy ensuring everyone else is having fun that they’re
often forgotten. But it’s not just holidays.
How many of us Moms have
prepared a meal, then dished the food up for our kids, ran to the kitchen to
get the milk we forgot to put on the table, recovered the fork from the floor
(seven times) after our toddler repeatedly throws it, and on and on until, when
it’s finally our turn to eat, there’s barely enough food left or no one left to
eat with as they are all finished and have already scattered to the four
corners of the home? Wow. That was a really long question.
In this short excerpt from
Confessions, the mother has just had a rough Mother’s Day. When the husband,
who had to work a graveyard the night before and had slept all day, realizes
it, he promptly takes the kids out of the house to give mom some alone time.
But a mother should never
assume she’s alone…
Aaron gives me a kiss on
the cheek. “Have fun doing whatever you want,” he says.
Whatever I want? I hear
the door close. Then . . . nothing. The sound is new and foreign. It is so
sweet, a single tear escapes from a buried emotional reservoir.
Very slowly I move
forward, afraid to disrupt the silence. Whatever I want. I don’t stop moving
until I’m in front of the stereo in the living room. I open the CD drawer and
reach to the very, dusty back and pull out the first thing I touch. Music
begins to play, bringing memories back from the days I was carefree. In a
complete daze, I turn up the volume. Sounds that don’t involve singing
vegetables or rapping dinosaurs flow into me, igniting me with new life.
I undo the button of my
pants and unzip. My jeans fall off me like old skin. In one swoop my shirt
comes over my head, and in a move my husband would kill to see, I snake the bra
out from under my tank top and fling it across the room. It lands in the
garbage.
Finally free, I jump on
the couch in time with the beat of the music. My hips begin to move and arms
wave in some ancient primal dance. I’m in this current trance, when I hear a
throat being cleared.
I freeze and slowly turn
to the back door. There stands my husband and all four kids. Poor Baby looks
like he’s going to cry.
“We forgot jackets. It’s chilly outside,” my husband
says, trying not to laugh. “Kids, go back to the car. I’ll get your stuff.
I step off the couch with the grace of Elizabeth
Taylor, attempt to pull my tank top down over my underwear, and pick up my
jeans. “I’m doing laundry,” I say.
When the kids don’t move, Aaron says, “Go!” They bump
into each other as they try to escape the frightening scene before them.
Purchase Confessions of a Cereal Mother
Want to know about Rachel’s young adult books? Go HERE.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Tour Giveaway
5 ebooks, 5 paperbacks, a chapter critique and a $10 Amazon gift card
