My kids were gone all week for Spring Break and you can't believe how much my hubs and I were looking forward to the time alone. With each other. And away from them. We were going to eat what we wanted, watch what we wanted, and maybe even get frisky without locking down the master bedroom like Fort Knox. But, here's the funny thing.....we hated it. We hated the no-kidness of the whole week. The house was lifeless, with no color or happy vibe. I prowled back and forth from their rooms, peeking in just in case I forgot to send them to their grandparents and Nanny's homes and they might still be there, casually lounging on their beds, playing a pink or black DS, depending. Hubs walked around the house bitching about how quiet it was, much in the same way he bitches about how noisy the kids are. But he missed it.
Another nasty by-product of the deafening silence in the house is that Musina took a powder. Nowhere to be seen. Va-moosed. I thought I would be thrilled to write in the lovely peace and quiet. I couldn't have been, in my son's words, "wronger," Not a single word came out of my head or my fingers this whole week. I had no original thoughts, no fabulous story lines ripping around in my empty spaces, nothing bubbling or percolating at all.
But it was temporary, Thank the Muses, and changed the second my kids were on my radar.
Swear to God, I stepped into the shower this morning, which is my "idea-zone" and the good ones began pelting me harder than the shower stream. I had to jump out of the shower and pound notes about the gems furiously into my iphone before they left my head for good. I needn't have worried. The stream of killer topics and projects have been constant and non-stop since I woke up and realized this was the day the babies came home.
So, I learned something important, besides how much I love those kids.....Musina loves them too. And apparently, we can't write unless they are around. Even as I write this, one kid is practicing his Cabbage-Patch dance in front of me, and the other is flitting about in her pajamas like a lost moth. Both of them are in my orbit. And because of this, I'm writing. So fast my fingers can barely keep up. And they ideas keep on rolling in. Topics include haunted makeup, supernatural trees, harried and weather-beaten cabbies, strippers, scary banjos, creepy ambulance drivers and, believe it or not, a kind of shit-monster. Yup. You read it right. An idea, by the way, my son completely LOVES. Big surprise.
So, there is really no lesson to be learned from this post, no big "A-ha" moment. No heartfelt advice I am doling out in the hopes of helping aspiring writers. I'm just so chuffed my kids are home, I wanted to shout about it. A writer's equivalent of shouting out? Blogging, baby!
Oh, and from a person whose child calls them "freaky, but in a good way", enjoy your Friday the 13th! I sure am.