“Can you play with me?”

That’s what my little five-year-old asked me yesterday. I was smack dab in the middle of ripping my hair out over marketing and spreadsheets, but I said, “Ok.”

She ran and got a couple of her stuffies, then plopped down on the bed beside me with a grin and handed me Mr. Bunny. Mr. Bunny got saved by Squishmallow Spider-Man, and then we looked for his “lost” mask, made birthday cakes, and had tea.

At first, I was growing inside because there were so many other things I could have been doing. But as we played, I saw her eyes light up and I actually ended up having fun too.

I’m reminded of the song at the end of The Greatest Showman:

For years and years
I chased their cheers
The crazy speed of always needing more
But when I stop
And see you here
I remember who all this was for!

That’s why I decided to be a self-published author instead of pursuing traditional publishing. I don’t have to write to somebody else’s schedule, or leave for weeks or months to attend cons and leave my children behind. And I can still be the pseudo-single parent I need to be when my husband gets deployed for months on end.

Is it rough having to learn everything from marketing to book formatting? Yup. Sometimes I want to throw a book through my computer screen. But then my kid comes up to me in the middle of that mess in the middle of my “work day” and asks “Can you play with me?” And all the frustration melts away.

This is what it’s all for.