I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my values, hopes and wishes for my family and how they match (or don’t) up with the reality I’m helping to create for them.

A lot of that, of course, is just the normal relaxation of standards that can and probably should happen as your kids get older. After all, we aren’t living on an organic banana farm grinding our own wheat and avoiding all commercial media like I once dreamed we’d be doing, and that’s more than okay by me. A lot of the standards I created for myself when my kids were little just weren’t realistic or sustainable or even all that suited to my personality.

But it’s possible to relax your standards too much, and realize one day that the values you hold dear–the things that really matter and are important to you about how your family members eat, spend their time, interact, live, play–are worlds apart from the reality, and the biggest thing standing in the way is you.

There’s a big difference, after all, between letting your kids occasionally use the TV as a babysitter, and realizing one day that they’re averaging 2-3 hours a day of TV because it’s easier for you to let them than it is to make them turn it off and listen to the whining and “Mom, I’m bored!” complaints.

Mind you, I say “you” but I really mean “me”. Your values and my values are probably different; and our comfort level with TV, computer games, or whatever is likely different too, and that’s just fine. I truly am not judging anyone else’s lifestyle when I say that I don’t feel good when I let my own personal standards relax too much. It’s not a false feeling of guilt–after ten years of parenthood I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing false guilt and chucking it to the curb. It’s more like a realization that something is out of whack, and that my life doesn’t much resemble what I think my priorities should be. Everybody slips up, and everybody’s life gets too chaotic or out of balance at times, and there’s no use feeling bad about it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth taking a closer look and figuring out how to get back on track.

Maybe it’s just the February blahs talking, but I feel like I’ve reached one of those points, and it just doesn’t feel good. My kids have spent far too much time on the computer, bickering over the computer or talking about being on the computer lately. Not enough time outdoors, not enough time spent together. I’ve been inefficient with my babysitting time, meaning I’ve had to use more and more kids-at-home time for work. And maybe it’s the fact that my eldest is ten-going-on-eleven, but I’m starting to feel a sense of urgency about the time we all have left living under one roof. It seems more precious lately, and I’m more determined to make the most of it.

I think this is a thread that’s going to weave through a lot of my writing and reading in the weeks to come. I know I can’t be alone in doing this every-so-often re-adjustment of priorities. Anyone else out there want to weigh in?

Want a chance at winning a prize? Want to read about the fibs I tell my kids–and why I think it’s (sometimes) OK for parents to tell little white lies? Want to see a super-cute picture of my youngest boy? Head over to the latest installment of Disney’s Family.com Comment Mania Contest and check out my essay: Mom’s a Liar!

In the comments, "WriterMeeg" asks:

"Do those who take on more than minimal freelance writing have childcare help? I’m stuck at the point of deciding whether to get help to write more, but be forced to make enough money to pay for that help, or just be OK with occasional writing gigs and full-time mothering."

Good question, and one I’ve grappled with myself! The short answer is "it all depends." (I know, I hate that kind of answer, too.) I managed to successfully build a full-time freelancing career without ever using full-time childcare, but a) it took many more late nights of working than I like to admit, especially in the beginning, b) my husband was home for the whole of my busiest year, after the birth of our fourth child, and c) who knows? I may have just gotten lucky.

From my experience talking to a lot of writer-mothers, it seems most of us cobble together some kind of child care. It’s not always full-time childcare, because for a lot of us the reason we aren’t working in an office is because we’d rather not use full-time childcare. So that leaves us with a dilemma: we want to earn an income so we can mostly be at home, but if we don’t get some child care here and there, we won’t be able to make money, meaning we won’t be able to be at home….rinse, repeat.

But there are a lot of creative ways to patch together child care so that it works for your family. And your needs, and your kids’ needs, will fluctuate. Right now, I have no regular child care. My husband just started a new job, in another state no less, after being home with the kids for over a year–it’s been quite an adjustment! But since I’m in a lull between finishing my first draft of a book and waiting for the revisions to come back, all I’m regularly doing is writing my weekly column, and working on no more than one magazine feature at a time right now–plus stuff like updating websites, blogging, etc. That means that I can patch together time to work during naps, on the weekends when my husband is home, and by using occasional sitters. I do interviews with expert sources while I have the sitters, and I write while while the baby naps and everybody else is at school. Right now my days have a pretty good "flow"–I’m only working on a few projects at a time, my kids take regular naps and the older ones are in school–so I can really take advantage of the time I’ve got.

But it can be very difficult to do interviews, meet tight deadlines and just carve out the time and space to concentrate without some kind of outside care–especially when you’re just getting started. For a lot of women, regular child care is a necessity for a successful career and their own sanity! But when you’re just getting started, it can be hard to justify that cost, but I really think that is when you need it the most! Like Meeg mentioned, there is a catch-22: how can I justify the cost of child care if I’m not making any money yet? But I’ll ask her to reframe that question: how can I expect to make money if I don’t invest in my business? Freelancing is a business, and that’s the most important thing to remember as you’re considering the child-care dilemma. If your intent is to earn an income with your writing, you have to plan accordingly. And if your husband gripes about paying for childcare so you can write, ask him if he’d rather take the kids to work with him. That might put it into perspective.

Again,I don’t necessarily think all writer moms need full-time childcare, or even regular part-time childcare. But you do need time. Whether you get that time by using daycare or a sitter, or swapping babysitting with your sister or friend, or heading to the coffee shop in the evenings when your spouse gets home, or getting up early, or staying up late, or forfeiting your free time on the weekends, something has to give to make room for writing. Some writers decide that it’s worth it to them to pay for child care so that when they are home with their kids, they can concentrate on just being a mom. Some would rather be physically near their kids all the time, even if it means they’re distracted a large chunk of that time. Some choose different kinds of child-care for different phases of their careers or at different times in their kids’ lives.

If you have limited funds for child care, use what time alone you get wisely. No screwing around. No checking message boards or e-mailing friends. When your kids aren’t with a sitter, find ways to grab a few minutes here and there to work. Having a laptop is a lifesaver: you can put your kids in the tub (this distracts my little ones for up to an hour) and sit on the toilet to work, or work while snuggling with them in front of the TV, or let them run around the backyard while you work with one eye on them. You’ll have to get good at multi-tasking with your brain fully focused on your work…but it will come with time. (Hey, you’re a mom, multi-tasking is probably already a big part of your life!)

If you’re doing the kind of writing where you’ll need to talk to sources, child care becomes more important–especially if you’re easily distracted or your kids are at an age where they’re loud, clingy, or can’t be distracted by the TV for a few minutes. Even when you have child-care, though, things can fall through, so it’s wise to be prepared and ready to think on your feet. I’ve done interviews sitting in my minivan while the kids napped in their carseats. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom to call a source when I didn’t have enough warning to arrange childcare. I’ve pulled the occasional very-late-nighter making a deadline. And I also think, depending on the kind of work you’re trying to do, that there is more room for acknowledging your role as a mother than you might think. I used to be very nervous about calling anyone–editors, sources, even other mother sources!–when my kids were around, even when they were quiet. I thought that it would look unprofessional if anyone knew I had children in the house while I write. But you know, I’ve gotten plenty of calls from experts who have to interrupt the call to talk to their own kids, and editors who call with the sound of co-workers in the background. It might look "unprofessional" to some, but I nowadays I am much more likely to call an editor or a source with the sound of kid noise in the background. I don’t make a habit of it–mostly because it’s a harder way for me to work–but I refuse to apologize for being a mother. Hey, this is my life, this is my family, this is how I work, and I do darn good work in spite–or maybe because?–of having kids.

If you’re determined to create a freelancing career while using minimal child care–or have to for financial reasons–I firmly believe you can, but you’ll have to make sure your expectations are realistic: of yourself, your kids, and your career goals. (for a great perspective on defining "success" check out our interview with freelancer and author Diana Burrell) Freelancing is fluid, and you’ll have the freedom to make mistakes, adjust your approach, and figure it out as you go. Don’t let worries about child care keep you from jumping in with both feet–just make sure that if your efforts suddenly pay off with five major assignments all due the same week, you have somewhere to turn for help.

Good luck and happy writing!

–Meagan

Readers: What kind of child-care arrangements do you currently use? How has it changed over the course of your career, and how do you expect–or hope–it will evolve in the future?

As you may have noticed, here at D2D we’ve moved away from following certain themes and topics, so that we could maintain a more conversational, casual flow of discussion here.

It was a great idea, really. Before, when we were posting based on specific themes, I’d see of all kinds of fantastic resources and then kill myself trying to think of a way to fit them into the topic of the month. Or I’d have an idea for a post that seemed especially timely or helpful, but then I’d file it away to post about later, when it fit the theme du jour. (I never did. They never did.)

Several years ago, before I’d gotten serious about my freelancing career, I was talking with somebody about whether or not I REALLY wanted to write for magazines.

"I mean, I love to write," I said. "I’d love to write for a living. But I want to write about what I WANT to write about, not what somebody ELSE tells me I have to write about. I don’t want anyone else telling me what to dooooooo." 

Somewhere along the line, though, I gave in, and now have even become so accustomed to writing for others that writing for myself no longer comes as naturally as it once did. Perhaps I simply don’t have the time, brainpower or creativity left to let a flood of ideas flow from my fingertips after filing how-to stories on contracted, assigned topics.

Once upon a time, I was a prolific blogger (long before D2D or any of my current blogs, I had a regularly-updated personal blog). My entries were fun and off-the-cuff and plentiful. And essays; I was forever starting (and sometimes even finishing) essays about a variety of topics. And I dabbled in poetry and half-written short stories and even plays. On the other hand, I had a very hard time coming up with ideas that anyone else might like to buy. I had a hard time tailoring my early articles to the markets I was writing for. I was overflowing with stuff I wanted to write. The only problem was that much of it wasn’t publishable.

There’s that tradeoff thing again. Most of us already know that the life of a working writer–especially a working writer with children–doesn’t usually mean a life of luxurious creativity, choosing only the projects one feels passionate about, and having plenty of time for everything else in our lives–being there for our children for all of their waking moments, practicing yoga for two hours a day, and perhaps a hobby, like breeding and training hairless guinea pigs for profit. We can have SOME of these things, and on a good day, we might manage to squeeze it all in, but day in and day out, something’s gotta give. And so it goes with our careers. Last year I was giving a talk to a group of college students in a writing for publication class, and I told them "When you’re first starting out, you have to make a choice: Either you can write only what you want to, when you want to, on the topics that you want to; OR, you can make a living at this." Okay, so it’s possible you could make a million dollars off your first novel, but you’d STILL have to put in a lot of time before you see a dime. There’s always a tradeoff, and I think we have to be prepared to make it when we are getting started. It helps to know, very specifically, what your career goals are. Somebody who wants to make a name for herself writing serious think-pieces for the Atlantic should probably choose a different path from someone who wants to pay the bills by writing advertorials. And if you’re moving your career along in a certain direction, the tradeoff is that you may just not have as much time or energy left for other things.

But isn’t it great? We can choose! And we can have the writing life and career that works for us right now and a year from now, whether that means we want to pen the occasional story when we can take a moment out of raising our families, or whether we’re hoping to build a career writing for magazines. If tomorrow I decided that I was tired of writing as my main source of income, I could get a different job and still write essays and stories and even magazine articles only on topics that move and excite me. I’m a writer for life, but I can choose the way writing fits into my day-to-day existence right now and change it later.

I don’t know about you, but I think that’s exciting. It means I can be many things during my lifetime. It means that the novel I have always felt is in me somewhere has time to percolate until I’m in a place in my life that I can get it down. Making a choice sometimes feels like giving something up, but I like to think that I’m just making room in my future life for whatever I can’t do now.

And look–I managed to write a whole blog post, without anyone telling me what to do. See? Turns out I’ve still got it

–Happy writing!

Meagan

I loved reading Meagan’s thoughts on what’s great about the freelancer’s life. Here are some of the things I love about working as a freelance writer:

1. I’m attending a PTO meeting–my very first–with our school’s principal tomorrow. At 9:30 in the morning. Without having to ask anyone for the time off.

2. Because I hire in-home child care assistance (and oh boy could I blog about the business benefits of doing this!), I’m always there if the kids need me. This might be a more chaotic arrangement than some writers can stand, but it’s perfect for my kids and me.

3. I can work at 5:30 a.m. and/or 10:30 p.m. if I want or have to. And help guide the 2-year-old into naptime while the 4-year-old waits for me to build a Thomas the Tank Engine railroad empire in his room once the "baby" falls asleep.

4. I’ve always loathed cubicles, and while my office is a chaotic mess of (slowly but steadily shrinking) piles, I get to feather my nest just the way I want to. The walls are painted a soft sage green and are adorned with artwork by my kids and talented friends. Plus, there’s no need to guard my lunch from pilfering in the break room (though I do have to share any and every snack I consume with the kids, whose hearing is finely attuned to the sound of mom in the kitchen).

5. My success or failure are all up to me. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid. If I don’t pitch, I don’t break into new-to-me markets.

6. I’ve learned to ask for–and accept–help. My mother-in-law is coming to stay with me over the next three days while my husband is away on business so I can conduct some telephone interviews with sources for two current assignments. Instead of gritting my teeth and "toughing it out," I call and ask for help when deadlines loom and the promise of checks to come hovers above me like a cartoon bubble.

For those of you working in the business now, share some of your thoughts in the comments section. For those of you just starting this journey, share some ideas for what you hope to gain as your writing business and career begin growing.

Next time, I’ll write more about what I’m learning as I get my office routine in shape. I’ll even share "before and after" photos. Maybe.

This summer was a study in crazy-making for me. After the ASJA conference at the end of April, I came home and began pitching like crazy. But May, she is a busy month for families with kids in school, and before I knew it the month was over. Then the kids were home from school, and I just wanted to hang out with them, but work began piling in. In June, I took on a book project with a less-than-three-month deadline. Then we travelled three weekends–and many weekdays too–in a row, in the midst of which was the One-on-One conference in Chicago. When I finally got home, I was wiped out. But it was just in time to start on the book, the deadlines for which were growing ever-nearer. August included back-to-school shopping, lots of whining from the kids, and several days in which I worked from 9 AM until 11 PM, stopping only to feed the baby and yell to my husband that the kids had broken through the barricade (again).

Now I’m sitting here taking a breather. I made my book deadline, I have a couple of weeks before I have any big deadlines, and since the big boys are spending most of their day at school now I have some time to just hang out with the younger two. And though I can’t seem to make my brain function well enough to post something truly helpful or informative, I did want to take a moment to remind myself (and let readers know) why I love being a freelancer with kids, even in spite of those occasional 9 AM - 11 PM days. See, I think freelancing gets a bad rap sometimes as being "too hard", and it IS hard. But it can also be a pretty great way for a parent to make a living. Here are five reasons why:

1) For every 9 AM - 11 PM day from hell, there are weeks when I blow off early to take the kids to the park, sleep in, or go shopping. If I work fast and hard, I don’t have to put in nearly as many hours as a typical full-time office employee must.

2) Yes, paychecks are often slow and unpredictable, but it makes 3 PM–that’s when the mailman comes–a hopeful bright light of my day. My husband and I have a game where we try to be the first one to the mailbox. When the checks DO come on time or just when they’re needed, the two of us do a little dance of joy. It’s just so much more fun than a regular payday.

3) I choose my work. Sometimes I regret taking on certain assignments, or wish I hadn’t chosen what I did, but I ultimately know that whatever I’m doing, I’ve chosen to do it. That can be frustrating when I make a bad choice, but is also ultimately freeing. It makes me take on a lot of responsibility for making good choices and as a result I run my business a lot more efficiently than I ever worked for an employer.

4) If a kid is sick or needs me, I can stop working and tend to him. I can snuggle with my two-year-old while researching a story or nurse the baby while typing. I can work late at night or early in the morning to make up for time missed for a school event.

5) I choose my hours, and they’re rarely 9-5. For example, my brother is here with my nephew Jack for a visit. So even though it’s only 3:30, I’m ending my work day right now.

Happy writing!
–Meagan

Fall is in the air, and with the impending change of seasons come changes here at From Diapers to Deadlines, where we’re going to bring you a steady stream of content, perfectly seasoned with new interviews with writers who craft a living by honing their craft, sleeves rolled up and wagons hitched to their particular stars. So look for more regular posts each week from Meagan and me in the coming months, and please let us know how we’re doing, and what topics or features you’d like to see here in the future.

Living in the Midwest, the temperatures are heading south in anticipation of autumn’s showy arboreal displays. Family vacations are already relegated to a folder of digital images (carefully backed up, of course!) that you need to get around to printing one of these days. By now, most kids have started back to school, leaving many moms filled with a bittersweet combination of missing them dearly and feeling *finally* able to get stuff done.

When that "stuff" includes your work as a writer, losing the bitter and hunkering down to enjoy the sweet often comes quickly. With apologies to moms of preschoolers, why not use that extra time you might have to reassess your business and how it’s working (or not working) for you? Before we know it, autumn will become winter which will fold into a new calendar year, another time for reassessment and goal setting. What seeds can you plant now that will flower over the next year?

I look forward to reading your responses, and Meagan and I will offer up some suggestions to help fine tune your business goals and increase productivity.

–Toni

How many times have you done one of the following?

• Put off getting childcare you desperately need to work because you can’t justify the cost. No, you’ll just find a way to write that 2,000-word article after everyone’s gone to bed, when your eyelids are hovering at half-mast
• Found yourself interrupting your work to tend to requests for snacks or break up a squabble–when your spouse is also in the house, watching TV or reading the newspaper
• Apologized to your spouse for asking him or her to watch the kids while you make a deadline

July’s theme is Taking Yourself Seriously. I’d like to tell you something I learned the hard way: nobody is going to take your writing seriously until you take it seriously yourself. Not your husband or wife or partner, not your kids, not your mother, and certainly not the editor you’re trying to impress.

It can be really difficult to do this, whether we’re just starting out or have been established for years. When we aren’t widely published or making a lot of money from writing, it’s hard to justify the time we spend working on it. Sometimes, even when we are well-established, it can feel like we’re letting somebody down if we’re taking time away from family needs to work–even when we’re squeezing writing into the hours nobody else wants from us (usually sometime after midnight). Hiring child care or household help can seem like a luxury we neither need nor deserve. Asking the spouse to help out in the off-hours just seems unfair. After all, doesn’t he (or she) deserve a break, too?

But here’s the thing–if you’re serious about having a writing career, it’s illogical to try to cram writing in after every other commitment in your life. It simply won’t work. There has to be an investment made in your role as a writer, whether it’s financial, or time, or even emotional–the mindset that you deserve to have it and that it’s valuable not just to you but the whole family. Think of it this way: if you were working outside of the home, it’s not as though you’d look at childcare, or a work wardrobe, or a business-related trip as an expense you couldn’t justify. And I’ve never heard of a single mother expecting her husband to tote a toddler to the office with him.

I’m not arguing that every writer needs or has to have child care when they’re just getting started. I didn’t for a while, for a variety of reasons. Often, money is so tight that the budget simply won’t allow for child care expenses, no matter how badly you want a sitter. In those cases, you have to improvise for a while. Some people make a commitment to keeping their children at home while they work, and I respect and admire that. But if they’re going to gain momentum–without completely losing their minds and burning out after a few months–there’s still going to have to be compromises made in some other area. It’s not about child care, specifically–what you really need is a mindset that your writing is a priority. It’s not shoved to the bottom of the list somewhere after vacuuming the drapes. If that means you have to get somebody else to vacuum the drapes, so be it. If you don’t want to use a sitter, then your partner or spouse might have to take over for you in the evenings and on weekends so you can write. Don’t apologize for it. Your career is not unimportant, and it’s not selfish. Even if you aren’t making money yet, the time you’re putting in now is building a solid foundation for income later. That’s what owning your own small business–and really, being a working writer is running a small business–is all about. You put in a lot of hours at the beginning for a payoff down the road.

It’s not always easy to convince the people in our lives that what we’re doing is important and valuable and that there will be a return on investment later. That’s why you have to convince yourself first. If you aren’t certain that you deserve or need the family to invest in your career, fake it until you make it. Don’t apologize for your work. Don’t grovel or beg for scraps of time. Figure out what you absolutely need and arrange to make it happen. Expect some resistance, but don’t give in. Just re-state what you need over and over until it sinks in.

This month at D2D we’ll be talking about taking yourself seriously. We’ll tackle some of the age-old writing-parent questions: how can I afford child care when I can’t afford child care but I need child care to work? How do I get my family on board with my plans? How do I get them to respect my working time and space? How do I get editors to take me seriously when it’s obvious I’m an at-home writing parent? We’ll offer practical tips and inspiration, but one thing that’s going to pop up again and again is that it starts with you. Take yourself seriously. Start right now. What is one thing you can do to invest in your business? We’d love to hear about it in the comments, below. And look for more posts about giving yourself–and your writing career–the respect both of you deserve.

Happy writing!

–Meagan

We work-from-home moms tend to place fashion pretty far down on the totem pole of priorities. It’s not because we’re lazy, don’t care, or have simply given up. It’s just that other things tend to carry more urgency than whether or not our shoes match our purse (assuming we even have a purse and not just a diaper bag). Also, there’s the practical side: if you’re being spit up on all day long, or spend your days with blueberry or chocolate hand prints all over your capris, you eventually come to think, "What’s the use? It’ll just get dirty anyway!"

Our pre-kid, more structured garments just don’t fit our postpartum bods like they used to. If you’re no longer working outside of the home, there’s no need for nylons or blazers or even business casual wear. And going by the "spit-up and grimy hands" prevention rule, clothes tend to become more durable, simple, and wash and wear (and wash, and wear, and wash . . .). Busy moms don’t need expensive designer clothes and accessories, so it’s often the last thing we put on our "to buy" list, especially if funds are tight.

But then it starts happening. You’re netting more assignments and networking with editors, clients, or agents more often. A big writers’ conference or book signing appearance comes up, and you frantically search your closet to find: 2 stiff, outdated, formal suits that juuuust fit two sizes (and kids) ago, a couple of maternity jumpers, and a plethora of long- and short-sleeved t-shirts in various states of stain-dom.

It’s time to shop! And it’s time to reassess what your new style will be and how it will reflect upon you as a professional. It might be time to choose blouses that discreetly camouflage a different tummy but also discreetly highlight the new breastage. It’s time to set a budget and to find creative ways to combine simple pieces that will accompany a hectic writing mom’s lifestyle. And if it’s been eons since you wore makeup, it’s time to invest in some new cosmetics since the pre-kids ones are likely serving as Petri dishes in your makeup bag.

Our upcoming interview with style and beauty maven Rachel Weingarten, author of the newly released "Hello, Gorgeous! : Beauty Products in America, ’40s-’60s," will offer tips on how to present yourself professionally with ease and savvy. Look for our interview with Rachel next week. In the meantime, visit our message boards, where I’ll ask some questions to get you thinking about your current wardrobe and where it could use some improvement.

Toni

Meagan and I seem to have lost an entire month here at From Diapers to Deadlines!

The good news is, it’s because we were swamped with work. The bad news is, no new monthly theme emerged here at D2D. So, we’re just going to hop over to April, whistling innocently in that "move on, nothing to see here" manner.

But before we do, I’d like to share some thoughts on when things get extraordinarily busy in your writing life.

I’m not going to use the "b" word here (balance), because that’s not really what March was about for me. It was decidedly out of balance, and just a hair too busy for my liking at this time. I worked quite a bit around the kids, sans child care, because my sitter wasn’t available for more than her usual 8 hours/week. And quite frankly, I can’t afford to pay for more child care at this time. I also worked a few late nights and denuded vast swaths of our family time over the weekends. I’d managed to draw a bright line where work ended and family time began with dinnertime, and to also take at least one full day off of work, even though I work part time right now, to clear my head and also be fully present for my family and just plain have fun. I didn’t mind crossing that bright line for a bit to get things done, since I knew it was temporary. But it was a nice affirmation of why I work in the way that I do, and why I set those boundaries in the first place.

I also came to realize that although I’m meeting my financial goals for 2006, I took two assignments that just didn’t work for me on many levels. So I’m going to cut that work out of my future, because for me, it no longer pays to take work with a high PITA factor. I’m not suggesting that by freelancing, we should be filled with boundless joy and have sunshine blasting out of our backsides 24/7. But if it feels like pulling teeth the whole way through, consider letting it go with the faith that something better will be able to come and take its place.

Finally, I’ve come to learn that having that many deadlines all at once will not work with my life as it’s structured right now. So in the future, I may have to turn down work if it comes to me all at once as it did this time. Deadlines are often negotiable, and most of these weren’t, unfortunately. Lesson learned for next time.

If you’d like to discuss ways that you cope when you’re really busy, stop by our message boards and share what works (or doesn’t) for you:

We’re about to kick off April not by playing any April Fool’s jokes on you, but by starting a theme of "Putting Your Best Foot Forward," with tips on presenting yourself with professionalism and polish. And hopefully, not abusing your use of alliteration.

See you next month!

Toni