Hi there. Sorry I've been such a bad blogger lately. We are moving soon and my life has been consumed by the details of getting out of this house and getting into a new one. Plus, all the parties. Parties for the end of t-ball, parties for the end of kindergarten, birthday parties, end-of-preschool parties, Mother's day, Father's day... I'm about to puke from all the celebrating. Could we just not have a party and say we did?
I'm being a bit of a party pooper, I know. I will admit that I had a lot of fun planning Charlie's campfire birthday party. We rented a campfire ring at our local nature center and roasted marshmallows and hot dogs (not in that order) and threw rocks in the nearby creek. If your five-year-old boy ever complains of boredom, just take him to a creek and instruct him to throw rocks at it. You will be amazed at the amount of time your son can do something that doesn't involve a cape, or wheels, or a guy named Mario.
And my time for blogging may just be up because Teddy does not stand for people being on the computer these days. Or people playing with toys or people eating in big-kid chairs while he is stuck in a booster seat or people drinking out of regular cups while he is drinking from a sippy cup. He thinks he is so big-time. In the pro-Teddy category I have to include the fact that he is basically potty-training himself. (!!!!) I noticed he was dry when I was changing him after long periods of not changing him, so I started putting him on the potty and voila, pee pee! Now, I just put him on the potty every so often and he pretty much always goes. He even wears underwear around the house. Seeing as I thought Charlie would go to college with pull-ups, I'm pretty much in awe of Teddy's potty giftedness. I chalk it up to the cloth diapers. Even if you don't believe in global warming, I still recommend you use cloth diapers (and check out the movie An Inconvenient Truth). They have proven to be very economical, pretty easy, and a means to facilitate early potty training.
I just had to take a Teddy potty break...He went #2!!! Could I be any prouder of my boy? No, I could not!!!! I realize I sound like one of those annoying braggy mom bloggers right now. Sorry, can't help it. And I realize I just wrote #2 in a post. I am just shameless today.
Back to parties....I'm curious about something....what do people think about the whole "no gifts" trend at kids' b-day parties. I'm an old-school birthday party thrower. I think there should be gifts and sweets and candles blown out while guests sing happy birthday. I even think it's okay for the b-day boy or girl to open the gifts in front of people. Am I totally behind the times? I recently went to a party that I could've sworn was a no-gifts party and didn't bring a gift. Then sat in horror as gifts were opened and one of the kids asked, "what did you bring?" Oops!
In my opinion, requesting "no gifts" is totally confusing and not helping anyone. I know people think they're being kind when they say "no gifts," but really all they're doing is playing this b-day party mind game. Does "no gifts" really mean no gifts? Or does it mean contribute to a charity in the name of the birthday boy? Does it mean bring a card with sticker sheets in lieu of gifts? Does it mean bring a big, showy gift to show you are really just too generous and lousy with free time and money to go to a party without a nerf blaster in hand?
I tend to agree with Miss Manners who says that no mention of gifts should be made on an invitation, period. It's tacky to presume that someone would bring a gift in the first place, so to instruct them not to bring a gift is arguably equally tacky. Plus, it's actually fun to pick out a gift for someone you care about. Why deny our children this pleasure? It's also instructive for the child being celebrated to learn how to open and appreciate gifts graciously. Plus, getting gifts on your birthday is pretty much the whole point of having a birthday. I still wake up on my birthday full of anticipation and excitement. And that's not because I love turning another year older; it's because of the gifts!
Teddy is not at all pleased at how long I've been on the computer. Gotta run!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Resistance Training
Brandon has just left to go running. Outside it's the greenish purple of evening in the late spring. Everything is so lush right now. When you go running on the trail behind our house, you smell honeysuckle and see cardinals and lizards flying and darting around. The kids are in their beds. All three are still awake, having their conversations. It's precious to listen to them. Or, it would be precious if, say, I were a stranger just hearing them for the first time. I'm not a stranger, though. I'm the opposite of a stranger to them. I am the person they know so well and are so close to, that they can barely untangle their own identities from mine. And I'm pretty much the same way with them. So, I don't find them so precious at the moment. They sound like birds tweeting or the white noise of crickets that you don't really notice until someone says, "listen to those crickets."
I am tired from doing resistance training all day. I'm not referring to some new workout regime. Well, it is sort of a workout. I'm talking about toddler resistance training. The muscles in my arms are aching from keeping Teddy out of harm's way--from falling down the stairs, falling out of the computer chair and onto the sharp-edge of the desk drawer that holds the keyboard. I have imagined him hitting his head just so and piercing his eye with the edge of the drawer. It's my weird way of steeling myself for the worst-case scenario. I think it helps me to feel better about the rest of my day.
Teddy is almost 19 months-old now, and he is in full-blown toddler mode. It's like he watched some documentary about how to be a toddler and is now practicing his new skills. I don't think I have sat down all day. If he is awake, he is testing the limits of everything. If I try to send an email, he is hitting the shift key over and over again, so that my computer has to be rebooted in order to work properly. At lunch he hurls his food over the banister into the sunken living room, where it lands on the white couch. At the library he pulls the books off the shelf, runs with abandon through the fiction section. He is happiest at the playground. But any second he could step off the ten-foot drop-off next to the slide. Why do they put these drop-offs on playgrounds??? Can we just have one place where we mothers of toddlers can rest for a second? I follow him around the play scape, hitting my head on the entryway to the slide.
I know this part of childhood is relatively short-lived. In just six months from now, he'll be less of a handful. In a year, he'll be scaling the climbing structures at the playground while I stifle a yawn, seated at a nearby bench. I'm in the thick of this toddler thing and I know that this too shall pass. But it's still exhausting.
I'm looking forward to the kids finally getting quiet upstairs, to Brandon coming home from his run in the almost-dark. I want to sit and read a book in peace for as long as I can. Until I can't possibly hold my eyes open another second.
I am tired from doing resistance training all day. I'm not referring to some new workout regime. Well, it is sort of a workout. I'm talking about toddler resistance training. The muscles in my arms are aching from keeping Teddy out of harm's way--from falling down the stairs, falling out of the computer chair and onto the sharp-edge of the desk drawer that holds the keyboard. I have imagined him hitting his head just so and piercing his eye with the edge of the drawer. It's my weird way of steeling myself for the worst-case scenario. I think it helps me to feel better about the rest of my day.
Teddy is almost 19 months-old now, and he is in full-blown toddler mode. It's like he watched some documentary about how to be a toddler and is now practicing his new skills. I don't think I have sat down all day. If he is awake, he is testing the limits of everything. If I try to send an email, he is hitting the shift key over and over again, so that my computer has to be rebooted in order to work properly. At lunch he hurls his food over the banister into the sunken living room, where it lands on the white couch. At the library he pulls the books off the shelf, runs with abandon through the fiction section. He is happiest at the playground. But any second he could step off the ten-foot drop-off next to the slide. Why do they put these drop-offs on playgrounds??? Can we just have one place where we mothers of toddlers can rest for a second? I follow him around the play scape, hitting my head on the entryway to the slide.
I know this part of childhood is relatively short-lived. In just six months from now, he'll be less of a handful. In a year, he'll be scaling the climbing structures at the playground while I stifle a yawn, seated at a nearby bench. I'm in the thick of this toddler thing and I know that this too shall pass. But it's still exhausting.
I'm looking forward to the kids finally getting quiet upstairs, to Brandon coming home from his run in the almost-dark. I want to sit and read a book in peace for as long as I can. Until I can't possibly hold my eyes open another second.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Holding Boys Back from Kindergarten
I've been listening to the book Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell this week. We have it on CD. I don't normally "read" books this way, but I have been amazed at how much I've enjoyed listening to it. I'm not sure I would feel that way about every book, but I plan to listen to more books this way in the future. I just started it on Tuesday and I finished it today. All that "reading" took place while I was making blueberry muffins and folding laundry and driving around in my minivan. Pretty efficient.
I highly recommend this book. It will really make you think about the ways in which our background and culture inform who we are. The book looks at success and tries to figure out if there is some kind of pattern that success follows. Guess what, there is! There's not necessarily a recipe for success that you can follow, but there are certain circumstances that breed success.
One section of the book is about hockey players in Canada. It turns out that, almost without exception, the best hockey players in Canada are all born in the first half of the year. That seems pretty weird, until you realize that January 1st is the arbitrary cutoff birthday for signing up for hockey. Gladwell explains that the players who were born closest to the cutoff date of January 1, are the best players because they are the oldest players on the team. Because they are the best players, they get picked for special travel teams, practice and play more, and get the best coaches. By the time they have gone through many years in the hockey system, they have been groomed to be best players, and therefore are the best players.
Gladwell then explains that this is the case in most school systems as well. In kindergarten, the oldest kids generally do the best and are put in the advanced reading and math groups where they get special attention and praise for their work. They continue to be tracked in these advanced groups and over the years, the gap between them and their peers grows larger, rather than smaller. They are being groomed to be the best and they live up to that expectation.
Of course, you have to take all this with a grain of salt because this theory of Gladwell's cannot be applied in every case. I'm sure there are plenty of cases of younger kids in a classroom being in the advanced groups. But, I think it is safe to assume that if your child is the oldest in their class, then you are definitely stacking the odds in their favor. Can't hurt, right?
Another book that informed our decision to hold Charlie (our boy who will be five in June) back from kindergarten next year was It's a Boy by Michael Thompson. We have been really questioning whether or not to hold Charlie back. He's ready for kindergarten in so many ways, but he's admittedly not the most mature child on the block either. He doesn't always follow instructions. He struggles to do things like put his socks on (or acts like it's a struggle so you will come help him). He's emotional in good and bad ways and I could see him getting frustrated to the point of tears if something in school didn't come easily to him.
With Emma in kindergarten already, I have a pretty good idea what goes on academically. I have no doubt that Charlie could rise to the occasion and be just fine academically. He wouldn't be one of the top students most likely, but he would be somewhere in the middle. Charlie is very smart, don't get me wrong. But so far he's not exceptional in the things that count in kindergarten (reading, writing and sitting still). If you need a robot built out of stuff found in the recycling bin, then Charlie's your guy.
So, I turned to the It's a Boy book to find out if Michael Thompson had some helpful info on boys and kindergarten. Turns out he did! He's pretty opinionated about this subject, in fact:
Wow. So, I wasn't crazy for giving this so much thought. The age at which a boy starts kindergarten will affect him for the rest of his life?? This is serious business. To me, Thompson is effectively saying the same thing as Gladwell. Whether it's hockey or school, those who have the advantage at the very beginning will continue to have an advantage their entire career. And according to Gladwell, the advantage doesn't stay the same, it grows over time.
Thompson also goes on to say that kindergarten, in it's current academics-focused form, plays more to a typical girl's strengths than a boy's. (Notice I'm saying "typical" here.) In his book, Thompson quotes Jane Katch, a teacher and author of books about kindergarten. Katch says that kindergarten
Later, Thompson says this about the difference between girls and boys in kindergarten:
For the next post, I'm hoping to divulge our plan for next year! I'm very excited about Charlie's "gap year." What a gift to have an extra year with my sweet boy! :)
I highly recommend this book. It will really make you think about the ways in which our background and culture inform who we are. The book looks at success and tries to figure out if there is some kind of pattern that success follows. Guess what, there is! There's not necessarily a recipe for success that you can follow, but there are certain circumstances that breed success.
One section of the book is about hockey players in Canada. It turns out that, almost without exception, the best hockey players in Canada are all born in the first half of the year. That seems pretty weird, until you realize that January 1st is the arbitrary cutoff birthday for signing up for hockey. Gladwell explains that the players who were born closest to the cutoff date of January 1, are the best players because they are the oldest players on the team. Because they are the best players, they get picked for special travel teams, practice and play more, and get the best coaches. By the time they have gone through many years in the hockey system, they have been groomed to be best players, and therefore are the best players.
Gladwell then explains that this is the case in most school systems as well. In kindergarten, the oldest kids generally do the best and are put in the advanced reading and math groups where they get special attention and praise for their work. They continue to be tracked in these advanced groups and over the years, the gap between them and their peers grows larger, rather than smaller. They are being groomed to be the best and they live up to that expectation.
Of course, you have to take all this with a grain of salt because this theory of Gladwell's cannot be applied in every case. I'm sure there are plenty of cases of younger kids in a classroom being in the advanced groups. But, I think it is safe to assume that if your child is the oldest in their class, then you are definitely stacking the odds in their favor. Can't hurt, right?
Another book that informed our decision to hold Charlie (our boy who will be five in June) back from kindergarten next year was It's a Boy by Michael Thompson. We have been really questioning whether or not to hold Charlie back. He's ready for kindergarten in so many ways, but he's admittedly not the most mature child on the block either. He doesn't always follow instructions. He struggles to do things like put his socks on (or acts like it's a struggle so you will come help him). He's emotional in good and bad ways and I could see him getting frustrated to the point of tears if something in school didn't come easily to him.
With Emma in kindergarten already, I have a pretty good idea what goes on academically. I have no doubt that Charlie could rise to the occasion and be just fine academically. He wouldn't be one of the top students most likely, but he would be somewhere in the middle. Charlie is very smart, don't get me wrong. But so far he's not exceptional in the things that count in kindergarten (reading, writing and sitting still). If you need a robot built out of stuff found in the recycling bin, then Charlie's your guy.
So, I turned to the It's a Boy book to find out if Michael Thompson had some helpful info on boys and kindergarten. Turns out he did! He's pretty opinionated about this subject, in fact:
"The age at which a boy starts kindergarten, his developmental readiness and the experiences he has there will affect him for the rest of his school career, and perhaps for the rest of his life. In the first three years of formal schooling--kindergarten through second grade--he forms a view of himself as a successful boy or a failure. Research confirms what most parents and educators see every day: that how well a boy performs in these earliest years of school affects his self-image and later performance."
Wow. So, I wasn't crazy for giving this so much thought. The age at which a boy starts kindergarten will affect him for the rest of his life?? This is serious business. To me, Thompson is effectively saying the same thing as Gladwell. Whether it's hockey or school, those who have the advantage at the very beginning will continue to have an advantage their entire career. And according to Gladwell, the advantage doesn't stay the same, it grows over time.
Thompson also goes on to say that kindergarten, in it's current academics-focused form, plays more to a typical girl's strengths than a boy's. (Notice I'm saying "typical" here.) In his book, Thompson quotes Jane Katch, a teacher and author of books about kindergarten. Katch says that kindergarten
"doesn't work for boys. What happens is that they come into school thinking they are okay and they immediately discover that the things that are valued by the teacher are the things they are worst at: fine motor coordination, word/sound discrimination skills, hearing the beginning, middle, and end of words. They can't come up with them or recognize them. They will in six months, but they can't now. They aren't as good at coming up quickly with answers to questions, so they don't raise their hands. It is much harder for them to sit still, so they're told they're restless...And we've cut out everything they are good at. Boys at this age have terrific skills at making big things happen together, as a group--cooperating, communicating, being a constructive group together to make exciting things work."
Later, Thompson says this about the difference between girls and boys in kindergarten:
"Because reading, sitting still, and taking school seriously are so strongly developmental, the boys on the younger end of the development arc are most at risk for difficulty or failure in an academic kindergarten, although all children are shortchanged by a curriculum that pressures them to move forward too quickly."So, there you have it. Our case for holding Charlie back. This has been a decision I have agonized over. It's hard to buck the system and do something a little different from what other people are doing. I think it will turn out great for Charlie, though. It certainly can't hurt him.
For the next post, I'm hoping to divulge our plan for next year! I'm very excited about Charlie's "gap year." What a gift to have an extra year with my sweet boy! :)
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Rocket Birthday Party
With a kids ages 6, 4, and 17 months, birthday parties are quite the hot topic at our house. I thought it would be fun to post about birthday parties we've either had or have thought about having or would like to have in the future. Please feel free to share your own party ideas. I'm almost as birthday-party obsessed as my kids are and I would love to hear your ideas!
For Charlie's 4th birthday, we had a rocket/space-themed birthday party. It was a blast! (ha ha)
Here's what we did:
Decorations: I displayed space books around the kids' playroom (where most of the party took place). Books are a fun (and cheap) way to decorate and they double as a quiet party activity. I also had little astronaut figurines and any other toys having to do with space out on the playroom shelves for kids to play with at their leisure. The big centerpiece of the party was the cardboard rocket playhouse my parents gave Charlie as a birthday present. We let the kids color it with crayons and play inside it during the party.
- Activities: For parties, I always set up different centers for the kids to pick from when they arrive. I know I can feel uncomfortable when I go to parties...and I'm a grown up. I figure kids feel this way sometimes too, so it's nice to give them a choice of activities to get them feeling comfortable and in the party mood. Plus, when you're talking about young children, you can never make them all do the same activity at the same time. It's too hard. Giving them options is the way to go. For this party we had a playdough table, a craft table, books and space toys scattered around the playroom and the playhouse rocket. I was also brave and put the computer on a kids' space website for tech savvy kids to explore. Our computer is in the middle of the kids' playroom, so it was easy to monitor their use of the computer while the party was going on. I made sure to expand the screen on the computer so that no other toolbars/windows would be accessible to a preschoolers' wandering mouse. To do this, just go to your browser's toolbar and click "view" and then click "full screen."
Playdough table!
Craft:
We made planets by coloring round coffee filters with water-soluble markers and then spraying them with water. After our planets dried, we glued them to black paper and added star stickers. Too bad this picture is so bad, because this craft turned out really cool. Using blue and green markers makes the planets look like Earth, using red and orange can make them look like Jupiter? Mars? Who knows...the point is, they look planety and that's what you're going for.
Food:
Rocket sandwiches with baby carrot rocket boosters, stars and planets cheese and crackers.
Cake:
Your basic chocolate cake decorated to look like space. Adding plastic space guys and a space shuttle hopefully distracted from my less than professional cake decorating skills.
Grand Finale: We walked to a field near our house (one without lots of power lines or low-flying planes) and blasted off a real rocket! I had no idea these rockets even existed until one day when I was at Michaels getting supplies for the party and saw an aisle there labeled "Rockets." I was giddy with excitement to go down that aisle, let me tell you. These rockets are serious business and not for people like me who are afraid to open up a can of biscuits. Thankfully my husband was not scared to light the tiny little sticks of dynamite that are required to launch one of these babies.
Here's a video of our rocket launch:
Party Favors: Astronaut ice cream, of course! And I made a mix CD of songs about space using iTunes' "genius" feature. Just go on the iTunes website and it's pretty self-explanatory how you can find music that is about certain themes. I had fun picking the music for our "Space Jams" CD and it was great background music for our party as well. Here are a list of the songs on our CD if you're interested:
- Rocketship Run by The Laurie Berkner Band
- Nine Planets by Justin Roberts
- Backyard Spaceship by Justin Roberts
- Rocketship by Justin Roberts
- Great Big Sun by Justin Roberts
- Blast Off by Mikey's Band
- The Solar System by Joel Media & Crew
- Blast Off! by Rocknocerous
- Pluto by Rocknocerous
- Fly Me to the Moon by The Laurie Berkner Band
- You Are My Sunshine by Elizabeth Mitchell
- Twinkle Twinkle Little Star by Elizabeth Mitchell
- Down to Earth by Peter Gabriel
- Outer Space by Relax Kids
Did I mention that this is when my secret music crush on Justin Roberts began? Sigh...
Here's a picture of the actual Space Jams CD. I took a picture of some of Charlie's space toys and made a cool personalized label. Can you tell I live for this stuff?
Here's a video taken during the party when one of the space jams was really pumping. This will give you an idea of the space party milieu, if you will. That's me with the baby and the wet hair.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Query Letters
So, I finally finished editing my manuscript and it's in the in-boxes of my fabulous writing group ladies. By the way, if you are a writer and you don't have a writing group, let me urge you to run out and get one as soon as possible. I don't know what I would do without mine. They are such a source of strength, encouragement and laughs.
So, now the time has finally come to start researching literary agents. Yippee! I started by looking at the Agent Query web site, typed in "women's fiction" in the search bar and then that gave me a whole database of agents who are accepting submissions for women's fiction. Woo hoo! I think I have spent about two hours looking at this stuff and so far I've made it through three agents' web sites. One agent had a really helpful blog with "must read" posts about writing query letters, submitting, etc. I found it really helpful. Here it is if you're interested.
So, the first thing I need to do is write a query letter. All agents pretty much require that you send them that first. And then they ask to see your manuscript if they like your query. Here is the definition of a query letter from the afforementioned Book Ends Literary Agency's blog:
So, now the time has finally come to start researching literary agents. Yippee! I started by looking at the Agent Query web site, typed in "women's fiction" in the search bar and then that gave me a whole database of agents who are accepting submissions for women's fiction. Woo hoo! I think I have spent about two hours looking at this stuff and so far I've made it through three agents' web sites. One agent had a really helpful blog with "must read" posts about writing query letters, submitting, etc. I found it really helpful. Here it is if you're interested.
So, the first thing I need to do is write a query letter. All agents pretty much require that you send them that first. And then they ask to see your manuscript if they like your query. Here is the definition of a query letter from the afforementioned Book Ends Literary Agency's blog:
Query: A one-page letter sent to agents or editors in an attempt to attain representation. A query letter should include all of the author’s contact information—name, address, phone, email, and Web site—as well as the title of the book, genre, author bio if applicable, and a short, enticing blurb of the book. A query letter is your introduction and sometimes only contact with an agent and should not be taken lightly.
Basically, a query is your one-page pitch that will entice a literary agent to want to see more of your manuscript. It should read like the blurb on the back of a paperback book.
SO, this week I'm going to write a query letter. And make a list of agents that I want to send said query letter to. There is even this cool little query letter tracking device that you can use to track all of queries! Can't wait to start filling this baby in!
Anybody out there have any tips on finding an agent? I'd love to hear them! Right now it feels a little needle-in-a-haystacky trying to find the right person to send to.
I'd love to spend all morning on the internet reading up on literary agents, but, alas, we are out of milk. Gotta run!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Fairy Houses
Trying to write with kids in the room is like trying to french braid hair in the middle of a hurricane. You need these precise words and images to do what you want them to do. You almost lay your hands on them and fit them into a sentence. The image or line of dialogue you want is just within reach. You are about to pluck it out of thin air, when you hear "Mooooommmmyyyyyy?????" Everything you had in your hands is blown away and scattered, not to be retrieved until after bedtime, if you're lucky.
Don't you love a good french braiding simile?
I feel like I'm in a daze half of the time these days. That's nothing new, you're thinking. You're always writing about feeling that way. You may have a point, but I think I accidentally called the director of Charlie's preschool my main character's first name the other day by mistake. I feel foggy and removed from real life a lot. These are either by-products of the writing life or it's the prescription adult acne medication I'm taking.
I'm so tired.
The times I have to write are the times when normal people would be watching TV or taking showers. I feel like I'm trying to fit this thing into my life that just won't fit. It's frustrating, like trying to stuff Charlie's extra-wide feet into a pair of Chuck Taylors. Brandon knows what I'm talking about.
There's this new fad going on in the hipster mom world. Have you heard of it? No, it's not bento boxes, but those seem like lots of fun too. It's fairy houses. All the cool moms are encouraging their kids to get outside and make little houses for fairies out of sticks, leaves, rocks, pine cones, etc. You can get as elaborate as you want to. You can turn your fairy houses into some kind of Ikea showroom floor for fairies by making furniture, wall decor, little acorn sconces, peacock feather throws...the sky's the limit.
I love the idea of these fairy houses. I will have to get out there and start making some with the kids now that the weather is nice. I like the conceit of creating this miniature world for people that presumably don't really exist. (Sorry, I may be a weirdo in other ways, but I'm not a believer in fairies.) Unlike playing transformers or slogging through a game of Chutes and Ladders, this is the kind of play I can get into.
On good days, writing feels like how I imagine building fairy houses feels. It's just that instead of bark and feathers, I'm using words to build homes for my fairies to live in and get messy.
I used to feel like a fraud when I told people I was a writer. Similarly, I would've felt like a fraud if I went around telling people I was an ice skater. I would write the way I'd ice skate: shakily and infrequently, but with moments of glee. Now, I don't feel like a fraud telling people that I write. I do write. I fit it in even though it is almost impossible with three small children. I do it almost daily. A lot of times I do it badly, but I still do it.
I'm looking forward to the time when I can write without the distraction of children. Does that sound terrible to say? I'm not wishing their childhood away or anything. Teddy does this thing right now where he walks backwards when he gets really excited. He looks like a tiny Michael Jackson in Robeez. I don't want to lose all of that. But maybe a nice long writing retreat...a whole weekend to write without someone hurtling grapes at me or asking me to make them a sandwich. That sounds pretty great.
Sorry to those of you who thought this post was going to be a how-to on fairy houses or that it was going to have something to do with bento boxes. Maybe next time.
Don't you love a good french braiding simile?
I feel like I'm in a daze half of the time these days. That's nothing new, you're thinking. You're always writing about feeling that way. You may have a point, but I think I accidentally called the director of Charlie's preschool my main character's first name the other day by mistake. I feel foggy and removed from real life a lot. These are either by-products of the writing life or it's the prescription adult acne medication I'm taking.
I'm so tired.
The times I have to write are the times when normal people would be watching TV or taking showers. I feel like I'm trying to fit this thing into my life that just won't fit. It's frustrating, like trying to stuff Charlie's extra-wide feet into a pair of Chuck Taylors. Brandon knows what I'm talking about.
There's this new fad going on in the hipster mom world. Have you heard of it? No, it's not bento boxes, but those seem like lots of fun too. It's fairy houses. All the cool moms are encouraging their kids to get outside and make little houses for fairies out of sticks, leaves, rocks, pine cones, etc. You can get as elaborate as you want to. You can turn your fairy houses into some kind of Ikea showroom floor for fairies by making furniture, wall decor, little acorn sconces, peacock feather throws...the sky's the limit.
I love the idea of these fairy houses. I will have to get out there and start making some with the kids now that the weather is nice. I like the conceit of creating this miniature world for people that presumably don't really exist. (Sorry, I may be a weirdo in other ways, but I'm not a believer in fairies.) Unlike playing transformers or slogging through a game of Chutes and Ladders, this is the kind of play I can get into.
On good days, writing feels like how I imagine building fairy houses feels. It's just that instead of bark and feathers, I'm using words to build homes for my fairies to live in and get messy.
I used to feel like a fraud when I told people I was a writer. Similarly, I would've felt like a fraud if I went around telling people I was an ice skater. I would write the way I'd ice skate: shakily and infrequently, but with moments of glee. Now, I don't feel like a fraud telling people that I write. I do write. I fit it in even though it is almost impossible with three small children. I do it almost daily. A lot of times I do it badly, but I still do it.
I'm looking forward to the time when I can write without the distraction of children. Does that sound terrible to say? I'm not wishing their childhood away or anything. Teddy does this thing right now where he walks backwards when he gets really excited. He looks like a tiny Michael Jackson in Robeez. I don't want to lose all of that. But maybe a nice long writing retreat...a whole weekend to write without someone hurtling grapes at me or asking me to make them a sandwich. That sounds pretty great.
Sorry to those of you who thought this post was going to be a how-to on fairy houses or that it was going to have something to do with bento boxes. Maybe next time.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Shhh honey, Mommy's blogging about that funny thing you said yesterday.
This article is exactly what bugs me about mom blogs these days and why I rarely go cruising the internet looking for mom blogs to read. I've always had an "if-you-build-it-they-will-come" philosophy about my blog. I don't have a tracker that counts how many people visit my blog. I have no idea who's reading this thing. I keep meaning to get one, but then there are other pressing things to do, like, oh, I don't know hang out with my kids.
I feel like if the writing is decent and strikes a nerve, people will read this. All this crazy marketing of oneself makes me very uncomfortable. I have been trying to give Twitter the old college try. It is a good way to connect with other writers, especially other moms who are writing. I really like that about it. But I hate the narcissism that it breeds. Every time I get a new follower (and it is not often), I actually am fooled into believing that it means something, that my stock has just gone up a tiny bit.
This kind of thinking is dangerous. I recently got a new follower and they even put my Twitter "handle," "mommytown" in the line of one of their tweets. They said something like, "mommytown, you'll love this." I was blushing from head to toe. I had a secret admirer! And they were basically shouting their devotion to me from the rooftops! Alas, they were just trying to sell me on their ad agency specializing in social media. Of course. That old trick.
How many minutes of my life did I waste on that stupid tweet? What did that emotional roller coaster ride do to my psyche? What fun kid activity and how many loads of laundry could I have done with that precious time? I'm all for moms doing creative work and getting paid for it, but when that work involves turning the hilarious shenanigans of your kids into a brand that you try to sell to the highest bidder, then that sort of makes me want to puke a little. Go sell it somewhere else, sister, because this mommy isn't buying it.
Harsh? Read the article and see what you think. First five commenters get a brand new Fleurville diaper bag and will be entered for a chance to win a trip to Disney!!!!!!*
*; )
I feel like if the writing is decent and strikes a nerve, people will read this. All this crazy marketing of oneself makes me very uncomfortable. I have been trying to give Twitter the old college try. It is a good way to connect with other writers, especially other moms who are writing. I really like that about it. But I hate the narcissism that it breeds. Every time I get a new follower (and it is not often), I actually am fooled into believing that it means something, that my stock has just gone up a tiny bit.
This kind of thinking is dangerous. I recently got a new follower and they even put my Twitter "handle," "mommytown" in the line of one of their tweets. They said something like, "mommytown, you'll love this." I was blushing from head to toe. I had a secret admirer! And they were basically shouting their devotion to me from the rooftops! Alas, they were just trying to sell me on their ad agency specializing in social media. Of course. That old trick.
How many minutes of my life did I waste on that stupid tweet? What did that emotional roller coaster ride do to my psyche? What fun kid activity and how many loads of laundry could I have done with that precious time? I'm all for moms doing creative work and getting paid for it, but when that work involves turning the hilarious shenanigans of your kids into a brand that you try to sell to the highest bidder, then that sort of makes me want to puke a little. Go sell it somewhere else, sister, because this mommy isn't buying it.
Harsh? Read the article and see what you think. First five commenters get a brand new Fleurville diaper bag and will be entered for a chance to win a trip to Disney!!!!!!*
*; )
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