Summertime and the writing is NOT easy

When did parks getting boring?

When did parks getting boring?

School’s out, and so is full-time writing. Starting today, I’m a full-time mom and part-time writer – a part-time writer with a deadline for a second novel.

And that’s fine. My laptop will be with me forever, but my kid will not. We’ll be a duo of summer slugs until she flies out the door for a friend. She’s only eight, but that door’s already in constant motion.

Last summer, her budding social life carved out writing time for me. But it wasn’t the flurry of productivity I expected, and this summer’s going to be no different.

It will go like this:

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I set up our craft table. We color and cut and glue and giggle. Then the doorbell rings, and she’s either out the door or taking a friend to her room.

The inventor of glitter has some explaining to do.

The inventor of glitter has some explaining to do.

So the laptop and I settle into my office. I’m on a hot streak and then … interruption.

Mom! The glitter bottle exploded and it’s stuck to the glue on the floor and the glue got on the floor because the glue bottle exploded.

How’d these bottles explode, Samantha?

I don’t know. We didn’t do anything wrong. I think YOU tipped ’em over or those bottles had too much carbon dioxide or maybe ants ate a hole in the bottom.

___________________

My daughter and I resume work on the ultra cool Harry Potter game we’re making. The doorbell rings, and she’s either out the door or taking a friend to her room.

Me. Laptop. Office. I’m on a hot streak and then … interruption.

(Sniff, sniff) Mom, I fell off the trampoline across the street. I think I broke my leg. So I jumped over those bushes and I ran home. I need an ice pack. (Sniff, sniff) Mom, can you take us to the gymnastics studio?

___________________

We plan a lazy movie morning with breakfast popcorn.

Doorbell. Me. Laptop. Office. Hot streak. Interruption.

Mom, will you take us to the Mall of America to look at American Girl Dolls?

No. I’m not driving to the city for dolls. Think of something else to do.

Can we go to the beach?

Not now. Pick a day next week so I can plan lunch and stuff.

Can we go to the Wisconsin Dells?

Are you serious? Really?

Fine! You never let me do anything!

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My daughter and I set up her favorite game, Life. (The board game Life is longer than actual life, and Life inevitably makes me a broke mechanic living in a mobile home with so many kids they can’t fit into the tiny Life car. I love life. Hate Life.)

Doorbell. Me. Laptop. Office. Hot streak. Interruption.

Mom, I’m starving. Can you make pizza for lunch?

Sure.

She shouts downstairs that it’s a yes, pizza for all, and a group of kids whoop. A group. There’s one pizza in the freezer. Clearly I’m still in winter grocery mode, but my cell phone holds the phone number for every pizza place in town. Problem solved.

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And the body language says ... sooooo bored!

And the body language says … sooooo bored!

Another day. Daughter-Mom Activity. Doorbell. Me. Laptop. Office. Hot streak. Interruption.

Mom, we’re bored.

It’s the second week of summer. Are you kidding me?

We’re soooooooo bored! Sooooooo bored!

I knew this day would come. I’ve got this list for you and the gang. It’s “Ten Fun Summer Things Mom Did When She Was a Kid.” Don’t even whisper the word bored until you’ve done everything on the list.

And so she gets the magic list, which I will blog tomorrow. Summer cliff hanger!

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