Be Gentle With People's Bodies

The title is my new mantra. I say it at least twice an hour through the day, to varying degrees of effect. Occasionally it changes to simply, Be Gentle With Bodies, because cats are involved. Does she understand me? Yes, the words are familiar enough and she knows what each means. Does it make a difference? Sometimes. We'll see the results eventually; maybe I'll even get to say it fewer times during a day.

Too many late nights and 5:30 wake-ups have led me back to the way I felt when she first arrived home 2 years ago. Life is good as long as I don't make the mistake of trying to have an adult life too. If I go to bed within an hour after she does (ie, by 8 pm), then I might be able to function normally. The later I stay up, the grumpier and less patient I am the next day. But, if I always go to bed at 8, then I begin to only be awake when Bumblebee is.

I think I need to find a mantra for me...one that goes something like: find a balance, it doesn't have to be all or nothing. But, compromise has never been a strong suit. The question remains: how do I fit in the things I want alongside the things she wants and needs?

Writing as a craft; writing as a job...

It is one thing to write when the muse visits, when inspiration strikes or a scene bursts forth fully formed...it is entirely another to attempt to turn writing into a daily task. I am working on a novel. I'm in love with it, but I am needing to end it and struggling with the reality and finality of it. Usually I follow the characters and let them drive the car, per se, but now I need to convince them to compromise and let me drive the last 10 miles. They aren't so keen on that. It is slow going.

Today I settled in at Borders with a cup of coffee and my laptop. I'd done some intense brainstorming with my favorite writer friend last night and felt ready. Boy, was the universe not interested in that. I did manage 1400 words; I also managed to move the scene along to the next logical conflict...but not without eavesdropping on what appeared to be a group therapy session, and some juicy local gossip that had nothing to do with anyone I know or have ever known. Basically, I couldn't get the focused brain going even though I knew where I wanted to head.

Frustrating. Now I am home with pretty window crafts baking in the oven. I find myself hoping that I can harness the energy from last night when Bumblebee goes to bed and crank out another 1500 or so words.

Ever arm wrestled a muse? Tricky stuff, that.

Bumbling back

So, recently I realized that I enjoy perusing the blogs and websites of interesting women--often moms--who make art, read books, love their children like mad and view the world through a lens that could be considered slightly askew. After many hours spent reviewing and considering their sites two things happened: my favorites list bloomed out of control and I acknowledged that what I like in them is what I want for me.

It is time for me to find my way back to my musings. I've been writing like a mad woman, trying to get a novel finished, but what about everything else?

2006-that was the last time I sat down and wrote. I was barely pregnant, about to start my third year of teaching and wanting more creativity. Three years later, I have a two-year-old and still desire a more creative life. So, why now and why here? Two reasons really: Now, because there is no better time to hold myself accountable to the things that make me happy and here, because I'd already started something three years ago. I'm a big fan of returning to projects that didn't take off the first time I tried them. This time, my creativity is my project.Vision: recipes, craft projects, writing, life in general.

Bravely ahead, then.

it all changes...

when the kids come back. Last year was chaotic at best. I was tense when the year started. We didn't know then that I had health issues that were making it hard for me to deal. I assumed it was related to a particularly rough group of kids. I cried a lot, caught every cold or infection that walked into my classroom, and missed a bunch of work. I seriously considered that my second year of teaching may be my last. Then a smart doctor caught what my own PCP had not: my gallbladder was functioning at about 14%. This may or may not seem like much of a big deal to anyone reading this...but I will tell you, when your immune system is suppressed due to ongoing inflammation and then you can't eat because of nausea, it becomes a HUGE deal. I had surgery, the year was slightly better.

This year I am focused. The kids are great. I feel peaceful in my classroom; even though I am painfully disorganized. That doesn't change from personal life to professional life, sadly. Ah well, I can live with it. I've done so for a very long time.

I'd like to post more here, but I probably won't. My days call me away to focus on other people's words. This year my eighth graders love to write...it makes me feel wonderful to type that. I also won't be writing much more here because I have already been neglecting friends, both near and far, that I love. It isn't that this blog takes time (three entries prove that)it's just that I often don't remember it exists. *sigh*

Off to play with cats, grocery shop and get ready for a birthday party for an 87 year old Grandpa.

Suddenly, school year...

As I bumbled along through my summer, I didn't realize how close it was to ending! Yet, I go back to meetings starting this Thursday. I feel as if I didn't have much down time. I guess, in reality I didn't. I participated in the National Writing Project this year: five weeks, thirty teachers, so much paper (I tried to stick with recycled paper as I felt all the trees around me cringe when we entered a room). It was fantastic. I've never written so much in a concentrated time. Sadly, I haven't written much since I left. I have a million excuses, but it comes down to laziness. We heard many authors speak, my personal favorite said, "Find fifteen minutes a day to write, if you don't have fifteen minutes to do it--change your life." No kidding. I loved that. Except, now I have to change my life. I need fifteen minutes to write and thirty minutes to exercise. Anybody out there have those two things they could spare?

I'm ready for my eighth graders this year. Last year I was sick, literally, and it made the year begin on a sour note. After surgery and patience, I was well...but the year never took off as the one before had. This year, I am excited to see their smirking faces (c'mon, if I'd said smiling and given into the cliche, you'd have thought I was being sarcastic...they're eighth graders after all...) and delighted to get them writing. You'd be amazed what eighth grade kids can come up with if you push them. And I do.

So with just a few days left, I commit myself to posting here once in a while (weekly?) and writing on my own. I am meeting with a writing group that is remnants of the one I connected with at the NWP...I wish all the participants would be there, but life intervenes. I am going to write a story for the meeting. Perhaps I'll post that here just for the heck of it.

Foray Into the Unknown

Wisdom leads me to believe that it was only a matter of time before I ended up blogging. Perhaps it will be longer before I lead anyone to my page.

I'll spill ink and share stories. Interested? Keep reading... Not interested? Thanks for stopping by...