Sunday, November 16, 2014
It's been months, and my original plan was to write here no matter what. But life is a funny thing that gets busy messy and the only time I really have left at the end of the day is to fall asleep. In a heap. Tonight, I'm writing to the tune of Dora, because if my child sat on my head one more time I was gonna lose it. Lokisdottir, that is. Surly as ever. Bright and beautiful and all those things moms are supposed to say. CoyoteCurls is kicking butt in second grade, but hasn't lost her sparkle. I like that. They both keep me going (slightly insane, but at least I'm going somewhere). I won't lie. I'm beat. And everything creative about me is focused on making it to the end of any given day. But I can't say I don't love every second, because there're armies of moms who will beat the "You're Lucky" drum. And I get it. I do. They don't have it easy either. But once in a while I envy them. Here I am staring at the clock. It's 7:10. And I barely have enough to get me to bedtime, so I know there will be no creative venture tonight into my dark little world of fiction that sounds like more fun than it actually would be. See, here's the kicker. I'm stealing some time while my kids are engaged in something NOT me...and CoyoteCurls wants to sing me a song because I seem lonely. I say no. I am a horrible person. But she's been singing to me for three days, even through the bathroom door. It's sweet, and I appreciate it. I do. But for a commute. In a car. Alone. In traffic. So I'm off to listen to yet another song sung from the heart.