I had two ideas for today's but I'm not going to write about either of them because I forgot them. They were really good ideas too but they are gone. I have spent the past half hour sitting in bed with my laptop trying to remember them but my methods for doing so defy explanation.
I roamed around in my blog dashboard, looked at my stats, looked at referrals and then looked at the search terms that led people here today. I noticed someone came here looking for "a fox made out of hearts" and I thought, "What a fabulous idea! I bet something like that exists!" and then I too Googled " a fox made out of hearts." I found one ugly fox made out of hearts and was deeply disappointed but then I saw a fox lunchbox that had hearts on it. So cute. I then convinced myself that I needed a fox heart lunchbox to take to work with me and then I remembered I work from home.
I remembered I write, remembered I was supposed to be writing.
This week has been hectic . Luisa has been out of town. VillageQ was down. I recapped The Fosters. I read all the Listen To Your Mother submissions and met with Tracy and Galit to plan for auditions. And then the kids - school, martial arts, soccer, valentines, a meeting at school. Every day has been carefully planned and, most days, I needed everything to run according to those plans. And, this week, I got lucky because they have.
Recently, Miguel has had trouble remembering to take his lunch to school. He has forgotten assignments at school and we've had to run back to get them or he's forgotten them at home and we've had to take them to him. There was a time when I wanted to let him live with the natural consequences of his disorganization but I know that he can't help it. It's the way his brain works - a million thoughts but not always the one at hand.
My brain doesn't work quite the same as his but sometimes it seems familiar. Sometimes, I am supposed to do one thing and I do another. Sometimes, I have so many ideas that I feel that my head may explode. Sometimes, I have so much to do and I work and work but seem to accomplish nothing. Sometimes, I sit down to write and end up looking at a lunchbox for which I have no use.
But this week was a good one. Things went as expected. I'm tired but everything that needed to be done was done.
And, my scattered little boy (who is no longer little at all) just came in and said, "Mom, go to sleep. You've been staying up too late and getting up too early."
"I will. I just have two more things to finish."
"Did you know that good sleep makes you live longer? At this rate, you'll die at 60!"
"I'll miss you," I said and laughed. He laughed too, thankfully.
I used to look at him and wonder where he came from and, now, I realize we're not so different, really.
Creative. Smart. Easily undone by a lunchbox.