“Why didn’t you give them money?” my seven-year-old asked. When the cashier at a fast food restaurant had requested a donation to their charity of choice, I’d said no. That’s what I usually said when strangers caught me off-guard asking for money. Suddenly, my child’s kind, blue eyes made me feel guilty.

I tried to explain: “There are lots of good causes and we can’t afford to give to all of them. I believe you should think about which ones you want to support, then donate to them.”  

For a long time, I simply didn’t have the discretionary income to share with others. Now that I’m more comfortable, I still have a list of things for which I need to save money: my child’s college tuition, a house with a backyard and retirement. On the other hand, I want to teach my daughter to appreciate what we have and to care about those less fortunate. That’s why we donate outgrown clothes and toys to Goodwill. That’s why I slip some money into the Salvation Army’s bucket at Christmas time. That’s why we end each night by listing all of the things we’re thankful for which includes food, shelter and good health.

But is that enough? Case in point: my daughter's school recently collected new and used supplies for the animal shelter. I suggested she gather up cat toys she could find around our house since our ten-year-old tiger cat would rather sleep than play. My daughter wasn’t satisfied with that. I told her if she wanted to buy items, then she could spend her own money on them. Without hesitating, she ran upstairs and opened her piggy bank. She had $9.78 left from her birthday money.  I didn’t want her to regret this tomorrow, so I reminded her of the things she could buy with her savings: doll clothes and books about fairies.  She suddenly thought those things were trivial.

At this point, I gladly took her to the store so she could select pet toys, collars and tiny cans of tuna-flavored food. She remembered how happy our striped kitty was when I let her lick the can after I made tuna salad. My daughter decided she wanted to buy some Fancy Feast for our Cat Chow cat, too.

I was so proud of her. She cared about the animals at the shelter just as much as she did about her own grumpy cat. 

Is it more important to say “no” or “yes” when you’re a mom? I recently read a parenting book that suggested we should try to find a way to say "yes" more often. When a child asks to go to the zoo on Monday, instead of saying, "No," ideally the mom would say, “You may go on Saturday.” Unfortunately, this doesn’t work very well in my family. My young daughter would remain upset today, but remember my offer once Saturday arrived. I’ve learned this the hard way:  avoid promising anything later because it’s too hard to predict the future. How can I guarantee a weekend zoo trip when someone could get sick or it might rain?

I think previous generations doled out a firm “no” easier than some of us today. In fact, a stranger walked up to me and my baby in the mall one time and offered an odd bit of advice (as people often do to new moms). The old woman said, “The most important thing you can do as a parent is to mean it when you say, ‘No.’” I smiled and nodded, wondering if this was a personal regret of hers or a general criticism of parents today. Naïvely, I assumed I’d have no problem giving my child boundaries and sticking to them.

But I admit, I have been guilty of saying “no” as a reflex then second-guessing myself. Kids ask so many questions, it can be overwhelming: “Can I have a play date?” “Can I have some ice cream?” “Can I watch TV?” They want things and we hold the power to grant their wishes. I hate it when I initially say "no", then reconsider and realize I can say "yes." Therefore, my favorite answer (and one I remember my own mother giving) is to say, “Let me think about it.” Magically, time gives me perspective and strengthens my resolve. Somehow stepping away from the topic also seems to help my daughter accept my answer. Or best of all, she actually forgets what she asked for.

So, I’m torn on the yes/no issue. The other day I told my seven-year-old to hang up her clean clothes. This is a task I usually do for her, but am trying to transition onto her shoulders. She asked if I would help. Because she has trouble squeezing the levers on the pants hangers, I decided that I would. She brought me the empty hangers, I placed the clothes on them and then she hung the outfits in the closet. In fact, she smiled as we worked together. Before I knew it, the laundry was put away. Afterwards, I felt good about the compromise.

Until my daughter said something that I couldn’t quite decide how to take. She said, “I love you, Mommy, because you always say yes.”

Does that mean I’m a good mom? 

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop is a way of connecting readers to writers around the world. I would like to thank Kelly O'Dell Stanley, who just signed a book deal, for inviting me along. You can read about her original idea here: Praying Upside Down.
I will answer some questions about my writing then link you to amazing authors I think you'll like. 

1. What is the title of your book? On the Verge

2. Where did the idea come from? I once worked for a man whose wife was in a car accident that completely changed her personality. He said she "wasn't the woman he married." This ethical dilemma intrigued me so I wrote a book where a head injury interrupts newlywed bliss. (My boss, by the way, divorced his wife. In my book club discussion questions, I ask if a man or a woman is more likely to stay married if his/her partner becomes gravely ill.)

3. What's the genre? contemporary fiction or women's fiction

4. Which actors would you choose to portray the characters in a movie? Ginnifer Goodwin from "Once Upon a Time" for Val, the main character, and Cindy Crawford for Joely, a secondary character.

5. What's the one sentence synopsis of your book? Newlyweds struggle to repair a 1920's house while trying to rebuild their relationship after a personality-changing head injury.

6. Was this independently published or represented by an agency? It was independently published after consulting with my agent. My next novel will be represented by the MacGregor Literary Agency.

7. How long did it take to write? It took about 6-8 months to write.

8. What other books would you compare this to? "The Vow"

9. Who or what inspired you to write this book? A friend of mine lives in a 1920's Spanish-style house which I've always admired. Her stories of restoration joys and nightmares inspired the On the Verge house and is featured on the book cover.

10. What else about your book might pique the reader's interest? The Midwest Book Review wrote this: "A thoughtful tale about difficult human problems with no easy solutions, On the Verge is highly recommended." 

If you like contemporary women's fiction, check out Kaira Rouda, who Claire Cook, author of Must Love Dogs, said "is like getting together with one of your best friends--fun, fast and full of great advice." For historical fiction, I highly recommend New York Times bestselling author, Tasha Alexander, and for inspirational fiction and non-fiction, read Peggy Sue Wells. 

I am not good at playing games. Years ago I won at bowling and was so ecstatic, I jumped for joy. When my future husband pointed out that I wasn’t a graceful winner, I apologized and explained that I’d never won before. Not bowling, not mini-golf, not anything. Growing up, it seemed my father always won the games we played. If it were just my older brother and I, I still couldn’t compete. I told my fiance that I had plenty of practice losing. “I’m a good loser,” I promised.

The other night, however, I wondered if this were true. My husband and I had bought the board game Clue for our seven year old daughter. In elementary school, I’d played it a couple times at a friend’s house and enjoyed it. After all, it had colorful characters like Mrs. Peacock and Professor Plum, miniature revolvers and candlesticks, and it offered the chance to play detective.  I was excited that my daughter was finally old enough to play a game I’d truly enjoy. No more Candyland or Don’t Break the Ice for me.

She requested we play every night and more often than not, my husband set aside the papers he was grading and took his place around the table. It surprised us the first time our daughter solved the mystery. Then she won again. And when she didn’t win, my husband did.

Wait a minute.

I noticed a pattern developing. My husband won because of his exceptional deductive reasoning skills. My daughter won because she wasn’t afraid to guess and be wrong. But me—I waited to accuse a suspect until I was 100% sure. By that time, someone else would beat me to the punch.

Last night my daughter wanted to play again and I suggested we take a break. This game that I’d fantasized about as a child turned out to be yet another one in which I had no skill. Then my husband teased me, “Momma doesn’t want to play because she always loses.”

Here the Mommy Guilt kicked in. Everything I say and do is setting an example. How could I expect my little girl to smile and say, “Good game” after she lost when I didn’t?

So I took a deep breath and agreed to participate. Right away I could tell I was going to lose again. I rolled plenty of ones and twos. I got trapped in a room I didn’t want to be in. The fates conspired against me. Too soon my daughter bragged that she knew the weapon and the guilty party. All she had left was to figure out the location of the crime. My husband said he had it narrowed down to 25%. Ugh! I told them both to be quiet or people wouldn’t like playing with them. (And by “people” I mostly meant me.) My husband “Awwww” ed in my direction.

That’s when I realized that after plenty of experience, I hadn’t even mastered the art of losing gracefully.

Sensing that one of my opponents would soon win, I was frustrated that they seemed closer to a solution than I was. But I did have a pretty good guess. I decided to take a page from my daughter’s playbook. For the first time ever, I dared to make an accusation without 100% certainty.

Fate smiled upon me and I was right. I’d won! Finally I felt the rush of victory. I reminded myself not to smile too broadly. Good sportsmanship (and good role modeling) take effort.

What amazes me is how well my daughter handles it when she guesses the answer and is wrong. Patiently she waits for the game to end, giddy because we are doing something together as a family. She doesn’t let her mistake stop her from taking a chance the next time, either. Perhaps those who excel at games, like in life, are those willing to risk failure.

Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. What matters is that we had fun along the way--together.

Are you a good loser? I'd love to hear your comments!

If you'd like to be the first notified about book giveaways and new releases, please click here and leave your e-mail address. I plan on giving away several copies of my novels soon!

If you’ve got a strong-willed child like I do you’ve probably thrown your hands in the air more than once shouting, “Why bother?” Seems like no matter what you do you’re not going to change them.

I have a twelve-year-old daughter that’s already planning for her debut in the corporate world. She has a master plan and nothing’s going to stop her; not even my requests to take out the trash. She’s a straight A student, and the model classroom attendant. But as soon as she walks through that door it’s on! We are in constant tug-of-war mode to each get what we want. And I’m not just talking about listening, following the rules, etc. I’m talking personality traits, views, morals. I want her to see things the way I do. To care about others, to make a contribution. I know what you’re thinking. She’s just a child, right? Yes that’s true, but her desire and determination to get exactly what she wants without regard to those she’s trampled on along the way leaves me visualizing a future cut-throat, corporate attorney…or Courtney Love.

Then one day I was watching a biography piece on Angelina Jolie. It covered her early life experiences with men, drugs and pure rebellion. She suffered bouts of depression and began cutting herself. Then there were the tattoos and the controversial marriage to Billy Bob Thornton. Her life couldn’t have been further from the loving humanitarian mother that raised her. It was not until Jolie was almost 30 years old that she transformed into a devoted mother and philanthropist. She left behind the wild side and took her place in a family and as an advocate for those that couldn’t speak for themselves.  About her mother she was recently quoted on CBS saying “I will never be as good a mother as she was. She was just grace incarnate. She was the most generous, loving – she's better than me.”

I have to believe that somewhere inside her that influence from her mother was always there, just waiting to surface. Everything we say and do, all of our actions and reactions are taken in by our children. It’s all in there and though it may take a while to show up, I’m confident when the time is right it will make an appearance. At least that’s what I’m banking on with my own children.

Guest blog by Lia Fairchild. Lia Fairchild is a writer and the author of the novel, In Search of Lucy, and the new mystery series, A Hint of Murder. Look for more on her at http://www.liafairchild.com/  or http://www.ahintofmurder.blogspot.com 

YOUR TURN TO COMMENT: How old were you when you really listened to your parents' advice?