For the last 262 days, I have written at least 1 page of fiction each day.

That would be really impressive if it was all part of the same work, but, alas, about 90% is unrelated little vignettes, snippets of someone’s thoughts, pieces of their lives, utterly unconnected.

I wish I could make an art project out of them or something, perhaps a huge apartment building and behind each window would be this string of thoughts from one person or another, or perhaps a conversation between the apartment’s inhabitants.

I’m not sure if I have the desire or the ability to write a novel, or even the book of short stories that I have been toying with but I do know I can write shreds of the fabric of people’s lives.  I wonder if I can make a quilt out of them?

I started Taekwondo (hereafter TKD) in September (the same week as AAMP’s big arts festival, the first days of school – it was all new all the time and totally overwhelming) and I’m enjoying it even as it is driving me crazy.

I had anticipated it being tougher on my body, but I’m finding that I can take that part in stride. The challenge is making my body pay attention to the instructions.

Coordination and quick reaction times are not big factors in my life, I’m working on them, but it’s uphill all the way. So, stepping out with my left foot while punching and then stepping back while blocking is brainfrying. Absolutely brainfrying.

I’m sure it will be good for me overall, but it’s damn hard to accept feeling stupid for an hour at a time twice a week. I’m sure it’s soul enhancing or something, maybe it creates humility?

All I know is that I am proud of myself for not shying away from the feeling, usually that sort of discomfort and uncertainty makes me back off. And sometimes cry. But so far, I’m sticking with it and my eyes are dry.

Let’s see how far I can take this.

In November of 2001, The Boy arrived 7 weeks early, a few days after we moved in to our new house, while we were still housesitting for my inlaws.  I spent a week in the hospital after he was born, and came home to our new house, leaving him in the NICU for another week.  That week was one of the most surreal weeks of my life.  I was no longer pregnant, yet I had no baby home with me.  I had to go back and forth to the hospital to feed him, but I was supposed to let him sleep as much as possible so he could grow and come home.*

So I was in this weird space between one state and another, and I spent a lot of time sitting in my new house, which barely felt like mine, listening to music and reading and wondering about how things would unfold from there.

Today I dropped TLG off at morning kindergarten and I am finding myself with the same category of feelings. I’m alone in my house, between being a stay-at-home mom (who squeezes writing and volunteering in when she can) and a mom of full-time school kids (who works from home), and I’m not sure how things will work.

TLG has been in Kindergarten for a couple of weeks now, but in afternoons.  And as anyone with a kid in afternoon K knows, the afternoons are no time.  By the time you get home (or back to work or wherever) and get settled in to a project, it’s time to go back and get them.  Add the fact that I was run off my feet for the first week, and then he was sick and then I was sick and the first days of Kindergarten passed in an absolute blur.

This morning, however, I left him at school at walked home with the morning stretching in front of me and I felt, well, weird.  Like I was shirking my responsiblities. And I felt a little anxious.  I want to make the best use of this time, so I feel a little less torn when I am hanging out with the boys later but I’m not sure what ‘the best’ is.

I figured writing something was a good start.

It’s 9:33, I’ve got 2 hours and 10 mins left.  Wish me luck.

*Depending on who I talked to.  That week I spent a lot of things doing things ‘wrong’, it’s hard to learn to mother with 6 nurses assisting.  Sometimes I was told to keep him awake as much as possible, other times I was told to let him sleep.  I was told to come to nurse him as often as I could, but I had no daytime transportation and no one told me I could stay in the parents’ room.  It was damn guilt inducing.  They don’t make people who have other kinds of abdominal surgery (I had had a Caesarian birth) face that kind of guilt.

This is the first day of The Boy’s summer vacation,  so by all rights things should be hectic – no schedule, two kids instead of one, and so on but this has been a lovely morning so far.

Sure, the kids are entertaining themselves with a computer game, so that’s something, but my peaceful morning has little or nothing to do with that.  It has to do with the fact that I could pretty much set my own pace for the day, and I have gotten a ton of stuff done already and it’s only 9:15.

I am soooooo not a morning person, but one way for me to conquer that is to get up and get going, doing a bunch of mindless but necessary task before I get my breakfast and then sit down with a bagel and tea and do some reading or writing.

I can’t do that on school days, unless I get up at 6 and that’s not happening.  A school day schedule means either that the boys wake me at an ungodly hour in a  bad mood, or that we all get up an hour or so before we leave for school,  we get breakfast, get ourselves dressed,  get teeth brushed, hustle and bustle our way to walk to school (or drive if it is really raining out) and then me and TLG come back to the house by 9.  By 9 I’m fully awake, and it’s too late for the mindless housekeeping/organizing tasks but they need to be done anyway so I’m puttering through them, feeling like I should be playing with TLG and he interrupts the flow of my tasks constantly so they take way longer than they should.  And then I settle into playing with him but he is usually desperate to play a video game by that point and then blah de blah it’s time to make lunch,  after lunch it is only an hour and a half before it’s time to pick up the boy, and so on and so on (no need to bore you with all of the details – too late!).  My day is all chopped up into bits by the school schedule and The Man’s lunch schedule, and homework and it’s so far from the natural work rhythm of my brain that I feel like I am swimming upstream all the time (and unlike the proverbial salmon, I don’t get a reward for my efforts).

But in summer I can move closer to my own rhythm, finding ways to entertain the boys first thing in the morning so I can get the shitwork out of the way and then match our activities to my brain.  It doesn’t ALWAYS  work, but it works often enough for me.

When I started this blog I called myself the mombie because I was seriously sleep-deprived (as in less than two hours sleep at a time for YEARS). Obviously things have changed since then, and both of the kids sleep much better now (upwards of 10 hours most nights – I never thought the day would come) and I sometimes feel like my blog title is no longer as dead-on as it once was.*

Today, however, I am totally a Mombie.

I haven’t been sleeping well for the last week or so. No big worries, nothing weighing me down, plenty of time to sleep, but I’m just getting poor quality sleep all around.**

I know this will pass, but in the mean time I am driving myself batty.

For example, today I sent out invites to my annual Canada Day party. Correction: I created a facebook event for my party, and somehow managed to not invite anyone. I only discovered that when I asked The Man to log on to facebook and accept the invite so I wouldn’t be the only one attending (I hate that!) and he started to laugh because he hadn’t been invited to a party at his own house. Mistake the first.

I didn’t find out about my second mistake until I went to pick up The Boy from school and my friend G asked me how my party was going.

Turns out I facebook-scheduled the party for today instead of Canada Day and when she accepted the invite, her phone sent her a reminder that she should be on the way to the party – TODAY.

Luckily I am a writer and not a surgeon (I just typed sturgeon – ack!), or things would be going seriously wrong right now. 🙂

*For the record, my online ID varies between Ms. Strident, Smartmouth Mombie, Mombie, and my latest: isekhmet – they all fit for different reasons and different contexts.
**I had dream the other night about vampires who could only attack in dance formation, luckily I was dealing with the ones doing the hustle and I only had to dust them one at a time – I may be watching too much Buffy lately.