Back to my original reason for posting, sorry, I was getting lost in memories of days of sweet baby smells. Now I get, "he farted on me!" Charming I know. So here is how my summer has gone thus far: I have started four books- and I have probably only written 15 thousand words collectively. This is sad times folks. I wake up before my kids do with every intention of writing something-anything before they awaken, but then social media beckons me. And like the sheep I click on my email, my Facebook, Twitter etc. Then before I know it I have lost two hours. Two hours I could be writing something magnificent or a total piece of shit, but at least I would be writing something. Sigh.
By the time I get my shit together and start my spotify and crack open my next masterpiece, I cringe, just as my fingers are ready to stroke the keyboard, I hear, "I'm hungry, what's for breakfast?" Some mornings I really have my act together and get breakfast ready before I sit my ass down at the computer, but that is rare, so I sigh, and grumble under my breath and fix breakfast. Once their tummies are getting filled, I sit down thinking okay, I've got this, but then I think well now I have lost my mojo, I'll just check my sales or Facebook and then I lose another precious hour.
I scream at myself, mentally...not aloud, I am not that crazy, yet. I open my WIP back up and then I hear, "It's my turn! MOM! He's hitting me. Well she's pinching me!" then a scuffle breaks out. We go through this for the next thirty minutes or so until I can get them to see how ridiculous they are being.
We flip a coin to see who gets to play a video game first- becasue they can't be bothered to play together. I sit down again. Then my phone rings. I take my call and go back to my fantasy land that is waiting for me. My characters are shouting for me and waving. They are starving for my attention too but then comes, "I'm hungry! I need a snack, What are you making for lunch?"
"I hate that. I don't want that. You hate me. You want to make me eat stuff I don't like."
After lunch I try again to write and then I get, "Why are you on your computer so much? You never do anything fun with me." Here comes the guilt train all aboard. I start thinking about what was the last fun thing I did with them, granted it was the day before that I had spent the day playing chess and chutes and ladders, but I still feel guilty. Am I not giving them enough of my time? I remember back to my childhood...did I count on my parents so much for entertaining me? No I didn't. I was outside. I was riding my bike, roller skating, playing basketball. But still my guilt remains so I try to entertain them until it is time to cook dinner. Then I get sucked back online and after watching Alf reruns on Hulu until we fall asleep, I do it all over again the next day. This is my life and I wouldn't change any of it, except maybe I would get my shit together and get us on a schedule. Happy writing folks.
