It’s a Conspiracy

I tell you…it is indeed a conspiracy. What the true motives are, I cannot fathom. But the truth is out there…

My kids are devoted, dedicated, and driven to…

Drive me nuts!

Today, I need to write. And by “write” I mean “write, edit, write some more, edit…repeat”. I’m on a deadline, and yes, this article wasn’t the one with a deadline so technically, I’m procrastinating from my original deadline of edits for a short story I’m contributing to an anthology. Story is done, just need the edits finished so I can send it to the editorial committee.

My goal was to take care of all that this weekend. Who was I kidding? The kids are out of school on the weekends!!!!!

Now usually my weekends are insane. There are games, matches, swim meets, parties, …. With 5 kids, I’m quite busy. But THIS weekend was supposed to be a smidge different. So I incorrectly thought… Oh, I can get stuff done that didn’t get done during the week due to various reasons (mostly, kids’ doctor appointments, kids’ this, that, and the other – in other words, the usual stay-at-home mom tune).

Two of the five rugrats are at the NC State High School wrestling tournament with Dad. Down to three. The teenager on crutches got a friend to pick him up, so that makes two. Oldest is barricaded into the attic teenager man cave with the Xbox, so that’s down to one. The baby girl.

She’s not a baby anymore (she’s 12), but still knows how to work the baby vibe with a bit of preteen angst thrown in for good measure. Despite being out late with a group of friends for a make-up swim team party (they all missed the original one due to illness so another mom and I felt bad and threw them their own little party), she is… wait for it…

and…

So, evil mom (see Cruella pic above), I’m complaining about being interrupted for the zillionth time from edits that I don’t really want to do instead of making the poor starving creature another meal. Eventually, the kids will make their own food.

Not feeling guilty about it, by the way. Yes, she’s bored. I get it. Been there. Done that. It may shock everyone, but I was once 12 years old too. And I was an only child so I never had brothers or sisters to help entertain me. Her brothers are out of the house (except zombie boy with the Xbox), so I get her angst. I do.

But before you start feeling bad for the little poppet, she does have a friend coming over a little bit later. I planned ahead because I knew I needed today to edit. I’m not totally heartless. She just has to make it through the next hour.

But I digress…the real point was that my kids seem to always know when I have something non-child-related important to do. And they always work to mess with that. Closed office door means nothing. Hell, closed bathroom door means nothing to them either.

I already know how the rest of the day is going to go. It’s been an episode on rerun every weekend that I try to write. Oldest will inevitably need to go somewhere, need money, need more food (seriously how does he eat so much and remain so skinny?). Second oldest will call/text needing me to pick him up from wherever and take him and friend to wherever else or “Can we all just hang out at our house?”. Middle two will be home mid-afternoon with Dad who will be tired from all the driving, but they will be hungry…very, very hungry. And sweet angel-blossom daughter will want me to take her and her friend somewhere or both will open the office door with that face…you know the one. The one that screams, “We Are Bored!” By the time I get even halfway done with edits, it will be uber-late and a tired writer is a crappy editor.

So, dear writer friends…good luck with your writing and editing today. My brain will be with you in spirit, but physically I’ll either be in the kitchen or in the car.

Ciao! I need to find out what is burning downstairs in the kitchen…

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s