Savor the Success - Business Network for women entrepreneurs

About a week ago, just before my literary agent started contacting publishers about my memoir, I played wishbone tug of war with my daughter. I'd had the wishbone on my desk for months, ever since STS member Deena Burgess gave it to me attached to a holiday card. I was saving it for this special occasion.


But I should have known, you know? It's one of the universal laws of life. Parents do not try to beat their children at ANYTHING, including wishbone tug of war.


I should have never ever in a million years considered breaking that wishbone with my 4 year old, especially considering that I wanted the wish so badly. All I can say is this: I was a little manic over the prospect of the book---the very book I've been writing and tinkering and editing and obsessing over for two years---finally going out to publishers. I wasn't thinking clearly. No, I was not.


I suppose you can guess what happened. My daughter ended up with the big end of the wishbone. I asked her if she would let Mommy have the wish. If she'd known the expression, "Mommy you must be on crack," she would have said it. Instead, she just said, "No" and, before I could wage an argument, she wished for a new Pokemon.


Normally I'm not the type of person who believes in superstition. Normally getting the short end of a wishbone would not bother me in the least.


But this was not a normal situation.


I immediately posted a status update to Facebook asking for help. I asked, "Can anyone help me resurrect any semblance of good luck?" Someone suggested I toss some quarters into a mall fountain.


I considered that.


Then I went to Women Entrepreneurs Rock the World this week. I saw Payson Cooper, an STS member. I've lusted after Payson's jewelry for a while. 


That we were both in the same state at the same time? It seemed like a divine intervention.


I fondled every piece of her collection, finally settling on a necklace with the words "Love, peace, courage, and trust" inscribed on it.


As soon as I put it on, I felt blessed.


Then today, at a playground, my daughter and I happened upon an entire field of dandelion parachute balls. My daughter calls them wish flowers.


She started plucking one dandelion after another.


"I wish that all kids were big enough for everything," she wished.


"I wish I could climb trees."


"I wish I could ride a motorcycle."


"I wish I never had to go to school."


"I wish for a Transformer."


She plucked one and said, "Mommy, you can have a wish," and she handed me the flower.


"Thanks sweetie," I said.


"I wish that someone will appreciate the kind of writing mommy does and will want to pay her for it," I said as I blew the dandelion.


"I don't think that wish is going to come true," she said.


At first, my heart sank.


"Why?" I asked.


"Because, I don't think anyone is going to know you made that wish," she said.


Then she stood and thought about it for a while. After much thought, she said, "No, maybe it will come true. It might."


"I hope so," I said.


She plucked more flowers and made more wishes.


"I wish I could drive a car."


"I wish I was tall enough for everything."


"I wish I could ride a school bus."


I watched her as she made one wish after another. I felt the cool breeze blowing through my hair. I noticed how the evening sunlight made the white dandelions glimmer.


For the first time in many weeks, I felt calm. I touched my necklace. I thought about the word, "trust." It will be a few weeks before I find out whether or not my wish comes true. I can be patient. I can trust.


My daughter thinks dandelions---both yellow and white---are the most beautiful flowers in the world.


I think she might be onto something.

Alisa Bowman offers free marriage help and advice at Project: Happily Ever After. Her memoir of the same name will be published sometime next year. Her wish will come true. She trusts that is the case.