I have got to finish my book – since that wonderful week of writing I haven’t yet finished sorting out the mess called a manuscript.
I tried to write all last weekend. What happened was I ended up cooking, cleaning, entertaining, going for walks, drinking vino, sleeping, watching British comedy and stressing, a little.
The day escapes me. By the time the gorgeous duo are in bed I’m almost ready for bed myself. Although I’m trying to enjoy the babyhood of Vroom Vroom and have fun/stop growling at Bunkeroo. There’s very little time to write.
I’m not sure if I need a boot up the backside or a live-in nanny. I pretty much know the answer, actually. Still… mums of 3 manage more than I feel I do.
The photo above is of a bootie – made for Vroom Vroom by a friend of my mother-in-law. We lost this bootie two weeks’ ago on a stroll through the main drag of the village when Vroom Vroom had a foot out of her blankie. I was quite sad to be one of those mums who loses handsewn gifts and I berated myself for not even noticing Vroom Vroom was bare-foot in autumn.
Then, on another walk, the girls and I found the bootie. Sitting on a low wall in front of one of the real estate agents’. This is the second lost thing restored to us in the last fortnight… I went for a walk with some important papers (for the pharmacy) stuffed in my back pocket (not the smartest of me) and after an hour hiking up and down the hillside I realised I’d lost the papers. I berated myself bigtime as the papers mentioned dates of birth, bank account details, social security numbers, all good stuff for identity thieves. Within an hour the papers were popped into our letter box.
After living in Paris for a decade, this sort of thing is very strange to me. I can’t quite believe how decent and kind people can be. But the folks around here seem to be just that.
Today, dropping Bunkeroo up at school for the afternoon, she started crying as she approached the gate.
‘Why are you crying?’ I asked her, dropping to her level so she’d feel better. Vroom Vroom dangling in the Baby Bjorn.
‘Because I’m so happy.’
I personally believe the kid was very tired and should’ve eaten dessert as I’d offered. But I wiped her nose (on my shirt, I had no tissues), she blew the biggest bright green booger out, which I had to consign to the concrete path as I had nowhere to put that – I don’t know how she breathed through it.
‘Can you stop me crying?’ she asked.
I wiped the tear off her cheek and zipped up her jacket. When I asked if she was O.K. she said she was great and carried on into the playground where some older girl came to collect her to go play.
We all have these moments. Suddenly we feel like crying when there’s nothing immediately wrong, it’s just all a bit much for us. This is how I feel about Draft 6 – it makes me want to cry but I’m also happy with it – except for the crap bits – and I’m O.K. but I just need a moment to clear my head and then I can go on.
The other day was 11/11/11 and astrologers informed me it was the day to reboot our lives.
Reboot. Lost booties found again. Books that keep being rewritten and rewritten.
I think it time to just get the book out. Like that big bright green alien life form in Bunkeroo’s nose. Sorry that’s a terrible simile. But, maybe, applicable.