Mystery Unfolding

Tonight, the supervisor at one of my volunteer jobs asked me if I had ever considered writing a book. She said she thought I seemed like someone who had a lot of stories to tell. This was particularly striking because, prior to this evening, in the eight months I have known her, I don't recall ever having much of a conversation with her beyond what my assignment was for whatever shift I was working. I'm not sure how I've made this impression on her.

I shared with her that I have been drawn to writing for as long as I can remember, but that it was something I have rarely allowed myself to do--outside of a few brief periods of freelancing frenzy and a short-lived blogging obsession--because I don't seem to have the courage.

But the Universe has my attention now. I'm willing to show up...and to see what happens next.

The Call

 

And so I return, once again, with the intention of pursuing my desire to put my thoughts, ideas and experiences into some sort of story form. My love/hate relationship with this medium of expression remains a mystery to me. But I cannot deny that my desire to string words together in some sort of meaningful way will not go away. No matter how far or how hard I try to push it.

Today I think it's fear that keeps me away. Fear of judgment (mine and yours), fear of losing track of what I "should" otherwise be doing, fear of not having enough time, fear of not being "as good as...", fear of making a commitment that I might not be able to keep...

Today a check came in the  mail for $4.18 for advertising revenues from a blog I deleted five years ago. I'm taking it as a sign that this is where I belong.

I hope this is me coming home.

Conversation Pieces

Mommy: Sissy, just make sure you don't marry a guy who still lives with his parents when he's 35.

Sissy (age 6): I will not do that.

Daddy: Wait, I thought you were going to marry me!

Sissy: Daaaaad! You didn't think I was going to marry someone old, did you?

State Fair

Today the kids found out first hand why it is that I always refuse to go on amusement park rides. This morning the kids and I found ourselves at the State Fair without another adult who could ride down the Giant Slide with Sissy, who tearfully claimed she was too afraid to ride all by herself. I was nervous after a 20 year hiatus, but I soldiered on for my little girl.

The experience was far worse than I had imagined it would be. With Sissy sitting on the burlap in front of me, I proceeded to make horrible involuntary and uncontrollable retching noises with each drop of the slide; my poor darling girl asking, "Mommy, are you okay?" all the way down to the bottom. I'm certain she was fearing that I was going to vomit in her hair. I'm also certain she'll want to ride down by herself next year.

Mean Kids

I realized this afternoon that, these days, when I am picking out clothing, sports equipment, and the like for Snacks, I automatically ask myself, "Will Malik make fun of this?" A truly sad state of affairs...

First Day of Kindergarten

Today would be Sissy's first day of kindergarten if we were sending her to school. As we watched our neighbor get on the bus early this morning, John and I agreed we couldn't imagine putting our baby girl on a school bus and sending her Who-Knows-Where. But then she came downstairs and started whining and scowling at me and I thought that maybe I could imagine it after all.

My Big Fat Do-over

As I mentioned, oh say, a year or so ago, I have really been missing this blog and I keep meaning to get back to it. I keep meaning to get back to writing in general and I keep meaning to keep a log of my children's growing up, which I have mostly been a failure at doing. Somewhere along the way I got the notion in my head that I couldn't write a blog post if it wasn't a perfectly written essay, (which I have been pretty much incapable of writing for the past several years). I'm not sure how this happened. But then, out of the blue the other day, I realized the irony of the fact that my blog is titled Running from Martha, referring to Martha Stewart and her perfectionism. Ha ha ha, the joke is on me.

So now I am going to feel free to post completely inane things like this again:

Today my beloved green 1998 Honda CRV reached 222,222 miles and I thought that was pretty cool. Among other things, the check engine light is stuck on; the driver's side window doesn't roll down; the locks work only when they feel like it (so sometimes I get locked inside); the CD player, the clock, and the rear wiper haven't worked for years; the heat only works if the car is in DRIVE; and the cold air from the AC only comes out in a trickle (which is especially annoying since I can't roll my window down). BUT I still LOVE my car!

So I'll be back to recording my notes as my blog description says, and hopefully my children will forgive me for the Lost Years...!