Sometimes my brain is frenzied, ideas and inspiration buzzing like the traffic on a just-drenched anthill.
The never-ending birth of characters and the twists and turns of their puppet lives sometimes leaves me exhausted. Spent.
{Falling behind my} self-imposed writing goals and deadlines leaves me knotty inside. Which would be easily remedied, of course, were it not for the insistent here and now.
The here and now beckons constant: bills to pay, the unbalanced checkbook, appointments to schedule, vacations to plan, chores that need doing, ohandthelistgoeson.
And then there is the gravity of my first-and-foremost. My little people. My big one.
Jayce–with his wide ocean eyes–so patient, just needing my focus. Wanting to paint. Exploring the garden. Questioning how to spell his sister’s name. Always wondering something.
The wondering gets me.
The sound of his baby voice–the knowledge that his is the last that will echo here–stops me. Catapults me to the present. Freeze-frames the characters I’m busy puppeteering. There they stay, eager to hear the conflicts I’m planting, the stakes I’ve dreamed up.
One more year. Just one. And then he’s off to kinder.
Just one.
So many moments to savor in the meantime.
Oh, but the tug! The urge. The drive.
There is no question as to which way this scale tips. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
It’s so hard, isn’t it? I always feel like I have words and thoughts burning at the end of my fingers, but oh, the TIME to answer that urge.
I feel it too. Most days I shut it out. Summer is too short. And the kids grow too fast…
Exactly what I was thinking… except kinder is here, and I’m not writing a book.
The writing can always wait. But you already knew that. Spend as much time as you can with that little guy.
I feel that tug all the time too. The tug between chores, bills to pay, errands to run, work, my personal hobbies, a good book, phoning friends, and so much more. Then I look over at my ten year old and wonder, why I don’t leave more moments for just us. Time to play a game, build a Lego creation, ride a bike, hike a trail, catch a firefly, build a campfire, bake a cake. Your words really sum up that tug! Enjoy your little man!!
I think we all feel that tug, one way or the other. Enjoy your last year with the little guy!
Oh, I should not have read this just now! I was already having guilt because Catie asked me why I never play with her. :(
This time next year we’ll both be crying the blues as Alex will be starting Kindergarten, too. Makes my heart skip a beat just thinking about it. =(