My name is Mrs. D. and I am an author of children's books. Currently, I’m juggling many projects including several new books. I love to write. I love this beautiful language. I write because I have something to share. I write because maybe someday, someone in this world may need my experience. I write for one simple reason. I love how it makes me feel: free.
We’ve all been there with our kids...
cluttered desks, things on the floor, boxes under the bed, clutter on the
shelves, messy closets, and rooms looking as if a tornado had just traveled
through them. How many times have we told our youngsters that if they do
not clean their room, something bad might happen? They just smirked, gave
us a strange look, or simply ignored our warnings.
“Just wait!” We bite our lips, not
having any idea how to replace the cutest smirks on their faces with an ugly
fear. Some of us gave up and let them drown in their own mess, but some like me
were determined to find the solution to the messy room.
Often, children learn lessons when we
least expect them. That was what happened to my young heroine in my multi-award-winning
children’s bookRunaway Clothes. This
book was based on an event that happened in my home many years ago.
That day was no different from any other.
“A mess again,” I said, walking into
my daughter’s room. She looked at me with her angelic blue eyes, stopped
playing with her dolls, and started stuffing her clothes in the closet on top
of her shoes.
“That’s not how I taught you to clean
your closet.” I pulled her clothes from the closet. Losing my patience, I
started folding her new and now wrinkled clothes.
“I’ll help you tomorrow,” my
daughter said sweetly, as she picked up her doll from the floor.
“There is no tomorrow. We must
clean it now.” I made a strict face, determined to teach her once again how to
take care of her stuff.
“I’m busy, Mommy. Can’t you see that?”
She kept playing with her dolls.
“Time out! Rules start now!” I walked
her to the corner in the hall. That was the first time I punished my child, and
I was serious about making it clear who was in charge. Having grown up in a place
and family where violence took place every day, I did not believe in
punishments that degrade a child and harm his or her self-worth.
I checked on her in a few minutes. “Are
you ready to say sorry and go back to clean your room?” I asked.
“I’ll have to think about it.” She
turned away her cute face. Watching her playing with her fingers and talking to
herself, I felt terrible.
“Rules must be obeyed,” I said, as I
walked away, convincing myself more than my child. I checked on her again in
half an hour, but she said she was still thinking.
“OK. Think a little bit longer.” I
left her alone for another half hour.
“Still thinking?” I asked when I
“I like thinking,” she said quietly,
looking at her fingers. Another half hour passed, but she still refused to clean
“I love my corner,” she mumbled,
looking down. Three hours passed and she was still standing in the corner.
Worried, I was wondering how I could finish this teaching ordeal graciously and
still make her understand that it was a serious punishment, not a
game. Debating with my motherly feelings for another half hour, I was
ready to apologize for placing her in the corner.
“One day your clothes will run away
from you,” I said casually.
“Where they will go?” she asked, not
turning her face from the corner.
“To our neighbors, or maybe your stuff
will find another girl who will take better care of it.” I came up with the
first excuse that popped into my head.
She thought for a second and then
simply said, “Our neighbors have boys. They don’t need my clothes.”
Not sure how to handle her answer, I
said, “Bad things happen when you least expect them.” Losing my battle, I removed
her from the corner and tried to change the clothes conversation to something
else. The rest of the day, I felt as if I had punished myself.
There must be other ways to get through her. I searched for the right resolution day after day. Weeks
passed, but nothing changed. I pleaded, I explained, I bribed, I complained,
but her clothes were still jammed in the closet.
But one day everything changed. The
night before, I rewashed all her clothes and put them out to dry on the
clothesline behind the house. In the morning, she knocked on my door.
“It happened, Mommy,” she said,
“What happened?” I looked at her sad
face, ready to cry.
“All my clothes ran away,” she
sniffled, heartbroken. “Just as you said.” She cried.
“Clothes have feelings too,” I said,
hiding a smile. I told her that if she doesn’t respect her stuff, her toys
might follow her clothes.
“I guess they will.” She sobbed
“You better hurry,” I said casually.
“OK, Mommy,” she said, walking away. My
distraught girl had learned her lesson without me trying or preaching. I went
outside to fold her clothes.
Writing this story, I saw a great
opportunity to help families learn how to deal with an issue that drives every
parent crazy. Going back in time, I always analyze my behavior and reactions
that taught my children and me great lessons. Now, looking back on
their mischievous misbehavior and the rules I tried to apply, I see things
that I wish I had done differently. Like many parents, I naively thought I
would have perfect children, just as I saw on the front page of parenting
magazines—happy, smart, and well-behaved. The reality proved me wrong. There is
no perfect child or parent. Parents and children learn from each other on a daily
basis. Raising my girls, I learned that not every rule is written in stone, and
that sometimes, unplanned lessons are the best teachers.
Memories of my children have always been
my golden treasures when I write children’s stories. Every time I dig out some
event from my children’s childhood, I discover something new, something I did
not see in the past, something I overlooked. Now I can honestly say that over
the years, the best lessons I learned were the ones that my children taught me.
These lessons helped me to raise my girls into determined and ambitious young
women, and I hope they will help other parents too.
The older I get, the more memories I
collect. Some of them vanish with time, but some never leave. Happy or sad,
funny or disappointing, they are part of my life and my stories. With age, I grew
wiser and looked at things differently. The stuff that once drove me crazy and seemed
so important then, appear funny now. As my grandfather would say, learn as you
Runaway Clothes is a beautifully illustrated, award-winning children’s book
that will entertain and educate children without them realizing it. It was
awarded Mom’s Choice Awards, Readers’ Favorite International Awards, has earned
the Literary Classic Seal of Approval, and is recommended for home and school
libraries. It is a great read for any age. If the children are too small to
read it independently, the detailed illustrations will tell them the story of
the runaway clothes. The beautiful book trailer below will provide insight into
what this book is about. Runaway Clothes
is available in print in hardcover and softcover form as well as e-book form.
You may order Runaway Clothes on Amazon, B&N, and through Dog Ear Publishing.
Please see the links below:
Do you have a young lady in your home who is a less than perfect housekeeper?
This book might be just what the doctor ordered. An instructive story with a