This Messy Life

The vision in my left eye is blurry. It’s the pollen. That lovely burst of gold-green at the end of each tree branch — such a welcome sign of spring — means that “itch” will invade my eyes and ears until, well, it doesn’t.

The car windshield has had a small but irritating crack for weeks. It’ll be there until we get it fixed. Eventually.

This afternoon, a gymnastics party fell smack into the middle of my regular writing time. I took the kids but since I am, above all, a creature of habit, I fretted there and back about when I would tackle the mountain of writing (my latest story has me stumped and my second novel is . . . languishing), research (second novel, again), blog reading (and tweets), queries for the first novel, and the inauguration of this bloggity blog.

All of that led to thoughts of what my “brand” should be. Who I am, anyway, on line, in this virtual space? A friend said, “Can’t you just be you?”

It’s true that there really isn’t any other way. I am what I am in this messy life. There will always be spider webs in the corners, pages half-written, and mystery food in the fridge. Laundry piles will grow and totter. As I sit down to write, my 4-year old will ask for a play date and my 7-year old will wonder about beavers and wolves. I’ll never have all the answers.

This messy life is . . . me. There’s not a lot of spit and polish. Something is generally cracked. Pieces are usually missing. I always drop at least one of the balls I’m tossing in the air. You know, I never really learned to juggle and the on-the-job training — for a mom, for a writer — is trial by fire, in any case.

I’m not sure how long my left eye will stay blurry, but I don’t think any of us ever sees completely clearly. There’s always that speck of pollen, that persistent mote of dust. Without the mess, though — without that little bit of blindness — the page wouldn’t even be half-written. It would simply be blank, a waiting emptiness.

I’ll take the mess. Though it would be nice if I could find my keys . . . .

11 thoughts on “This Messy Life

  1. When you said “brand” I was thinking of one of those hot pokey thingys that stick poor cows with. Sorry I ended a sentence with a preposition. Anyway, it would be fun to be “branded” with a little stamp of you on me. But that might hurt too, so I’ll have to think about that some more. And I carry you always in my heart as it is. Thanks for the lovely time out for my brain and soul. Love your writing. Keep it up!

  2. Happy Blogging! You are rapidly becoming the official voice of mommyhood for me- not the giant lie to which we all aspire and fail to achieve, but the real multi-tasking life that we each live every day. What I have realized in the last three years is that no matter whether you are at home or at work or some combination of the two, we all revert to the same basic fears about our children and the job we do as mothers. It’s just nice to hear someone else acknowledge the situation, embrace it, and move forward. Thanks for sharing your fabulousness with the world!

  3. Yay, Lisa! My keys are ever-missing, my windshield is cracked, and my nose itches. This must be why we are friends. Your site is lovely. I hope your visit with our four-legged friend is fun and easy. =)

  4. Thanks for the lovely blog love. Two days later and my eye is still blurry, but I know where my keys are!

  5. You birthed a blog with a blurry eye, mountain of writing, the impending doom of a play date and a nature lesson? Hot damn. You’re good. I’m anxious to follow along…

    • Ha! Thanks Tracey! Like any writer mom (I imagine), I write in my head a lot. Or maybe that’s just the voices? 🙂 The blog was birthed in the car on the way to the gymnastics party. Oddly, I can drive fine with one good eye. The mountain didn’t crush me (yet), the play date involved a lot of dirt, and the nature lesson was saved for another day!

  6. YAY, Lisa! I am so proud of you! You know that I love to read everything that you write! Keep on plugging and chugging and good things will come your way! (I think I read that in a fortune cookie once!)

  7. I unburied my computer from a pile of empty mugs, teething toys and French books to read your blog. Mothering, writing, teaching, living – it’s all messy, but imagine if it weren’t??? Okay, I can’t actually imagine that, and thank goodness. Thank goodness also for your voice – strong, honest, from and to the heart. Thanks Lisa.

  8. I just love how you make it all seem so eloquent in a chaotic sort of way. Motherhood is real….tangible, but you bring it into 3D, if that makes sense, even with the blurry allergy eye 🙂 I’m so excited to read your next submission. Keep it coming and don’t worry about the little distractions…as you know, their contributions are endless, and thank GOD for that.

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