Although I’ve written two comic memoirs and plenty of television and film -- I’ve always wanted to write a children’s picture book. They meant so much to me when I was young, and as a parent, I saw how much they meant to my daughter. In one colorful page after the next, they were teaching her how to make sense of the world, how to express her feelings, and how to laugh at herself. She WAS the pigeon who wanted to stay up late, and I will forever be the overly competitive Nutbrown Hare who loves her to the moon and back.
In all of my writing, I try to say things people have trouble articulating. My last book (The Longest Date: Life as a Wife) was a painfully honest and humorous look at marriage and the five-year baby quest that finally ended with the adoption of our daughter.
What her father and I felt (and wanted her to know) from Day One was that we couldn’t imagine a more perfect child for us, and that we were so glad we waited for her.
Many of my friends and colleagues -- straight, gay, married, single, and divorced -- could relate to that feeling, having experienced their own long and winding road to parenthood. After years of trying to find a partner, we found ourselves in a choose-your-own-adventure of fertility treatments, surrogacy, egg donor, sperm donor, foster parenting, adoption, or all of the above.
I longed for a picture book that captured this marathon of waiting -- one that was magical and lyrical, that welcomed ALL children home whether they arrived in the typical mummy’s-tummy way or not. So I wrote this book (and Emily Hamilton lovingly illustrated it with the same agenda): to celebrate what an epic journey it can be to create a family, and to tell every child that no matter how long it took or how many mountains had to be moved -- you were worth waiting for.
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