The morning started out promising enough. The sun was beginning to lighten the sky, hot coffee waited for me in the kitchen, and I had two hours to myself before the kids would be getting out of bed. Charis, my muse, had just shown up at the door, so I decided I would write. I had a new idea that I couldn't seem to get out of my mind, and I needed her inspiration.
|Image courtesy of Vorfay,
The moment I settled into my chair at the computer, all my dreams of a pleasant, peaceful, and productive morning evaporated.
Chatter from upstairs: the kids were awake.
Hands already poised on the keyboard, I decided to do what mothers all over the world do when they're in the middle of something and are certain that their kids aren't in imminent danger: I pretended I didn't hear them.
"Aren't you going to check on them?" Charis, who's not a mother, asked as she clipped her toenails with the clippers she had
"Shh! Let's just wait a few minutes and see if they go back to sleep. I need to work on this idea." I nodded toward the pile of pink half-moons littering the floor around her feet. "And make sure you sweep that up," I said.
Charis glanced at the floor and shrugged. "You know, they'd better quiet down because I don't work in these kinds of conditions. It's in my contract: no quiet, no inspiration. Got any polish?" She stared at my chewed-off fingernails. "Sorry. Stupid question."
I sighed. "Let's just get started, okay? Last time you said something about the main character and a letter..."
A loud cry from upstairs, followed by a scream.
"That's my cue," Charis said, tossing my nail clippers on the desk and grabbing her purse from the back of my chair. "See ya another day."
"Wait! What about my story? The letter... What does it say? Charis..."
But she was gone.
I sighed. So much for the story--and my quiet morning.
I trudged upstairs to find the reason for the crying: the littlest one had peed the bed. Wonderful. I love more laundry, especially now that the dryer has become a piranha that tears holes through random items of clothing. In the interest of keeping everyone clothed, I've been forced to abandon the modern-day convenience and instead use every available doorknob, towel rack, and curtain rod in the house as a clothesline. It's either that or we join a nudist colony, which I have to admit I've considered because honestly, it seems like a lot less work.*
|Always a silver lining.
Photo by David Wagner, Courtesy of Public Domain Pictures
• The kids had a lunchtime food fight. It's such a joy to step on grapes and peas with my bare feet.
• My other, never-seen child, It Wasn't Me, colored on the leather love seat and hardwood floor.
• Our insurance man called while I was cooking dinner and rambled on for a half-hour, during which time I forgot I had been heating some oil in a skillet. Result? Burned pan and a not-so-nice smell in the kitchen. I'm so changing insurance companies.
• Then the shark (piranha, whatever) nibbled a hole in my daughter's brand-new, never-been-worn leggings after I had tempted fate by deciding to toss clothes in the dryer rather than search the house for another spare doorknob. You know--the leggings she needs to wear tomorrow because they go with her already-clean-and-dry tunic that nothing else matches. Yeah, those.
By the time my husband came home and found me lying in the fetal position on the love seat (I was using my behind to cover up the crayon that I hadn't yet had a chance to remove), I was dazed, confused, and exhausted, especially when it occurred to me that I'd eaten only seven grapes all day and had a headache the size of...well, something really big.
I probably should have gone to sleep right then, but Hubs had put the kids to bed (bless him!), and it was writing time. So there's that.
You know, clouds and silver linings.
*[Note: the Home Depot guys are delivering a new dryer tomorrow. Yay!]
How is your day going?