Big Night for Youngest

Tonight was a big night for Youngest--his very first swim meet. He missed the first meet because he was sick, so the anticipation leading up to this was pretty big stuff. He said that having your first meet ever be against the strongest opponent of the season is not exactly a confidence builder. Of course, to have me believe that his confidence has been shaken, he's going to have to deliver that line without laughing....or following up with a comment about how he felt like he swam pretty well overall.

His events included one that Oldest has been swimming the past 2 years for the high school team and one that Middle swam most of this season. After a long high school season watching from the stands, Youngest was finally have his day in the sun...er, pool. He's been waiting for this for so long.

Youngest had informed his brother and sister that since he's been attending their meets for so long, he expects them in the stands for at least some of his. Middle was there tonight, and Oldest expressed what appeared to be genuine regret that he had another commitment and couldn't be there. He also seems pretty psyched that Youngest is swimming "his" event...something Youngest seems pretty proud of too.

I started thinking back to our very first season as swim parents, when Oldest was in 6th grade. Then our second first swim season with Middle. Youngest has been waiting for this for a long time. It's our third go at a first swim season...I have to say that it was just as much fun as the first and second were.

past my bedtime: a lament

Up late
again
is not a good thing for me.

I like
snuggling
into my covers much earlier.

My eyes
burn
from too many hours open.

Grumpiness over this thing
settles
in me.

Too late to make a change
peevishly
I persist.

Tomorrow will come early
waking
too soon.

I already know how this ends

It's quiet enough in the house right now that I can hear the ticking of the clock on the shelf. I've been listening to it for the past 5 minutes, thinking. Deciding.

It all started innocently enough. Friday night I was ready to start a new book, and picked up one that I've read at least 3 times before. It's not a long read, and I knew I could put it down and walk away from it when I needed to do something else.

Saturday I woke up early, and thought I might as well finish the book--after all, it wouldn't take long. Enjoy my coffee as I read to the end and then back on the shelf. But somewhere about halfway through the second cup of coffee, without really thinking about it, I let the just-finished book slide down my lap to the sofa as I reached for the never-read-before book resting on the end table and opened to page one. I didn't mean to, but it was too late.

Then later on Saturday, the never-read having become an already-read, I found myself in front of the shelf behind the big chair in the family room. Looking. I had done several of the small chores around the house and had spent a couple hours running errands with Husband. There was more to to. My hand was on book two of the series that the Friday book starts...yes, I know. I should never have started a well-loved series. I thought I could stop. I was wrong.

I'm now sitting here. Listening to the clock and looking back and forth. The school bags on the floor at my feet with unfinished work, and the unfinished-but-read-before-and started-again book three of that series on the arm of the sofa across from me. The end with the bookmark sticking out is facing me. It's already halfway to the end.

So, um...

Oldest and I are sitting across from each other--each on a sofa, laptops balanced on legs stretched far enough to reach the ottoman in the middle. He asks what I'm doing, and I tell him that I'm commenting on slices, and then need to write mine.

"I don't know why you do this challenge thing," he says, "it seems like a lot of work."

"I just enjoy it I guess," I reply, "and by the way, do you have any material for me?" Those who've read my slices during past challenges may remember that I shamelessly use my family to supply me with slice ideas. Don't judge me.

Oldest moves on to surfing a website with funny quotes. He laughs at one about how not to end a class presentation (So, um. Well.....yeah). "That's pretty much how all of mine end!" He reads a few more and looks up. "Still slicing?"

"Yep."

He continues to read random quotes and other bits of information. I tell him thanks--I'm done slicing and I appreciate his help.

So, um. Well.....yeah.

You know you're in trouble when...

You know you're in trouble when you can't find inspiration in a quiet morning, just-brewed coffee, and a doughnut from the local bakery.

Even after you've promised one young writer that this year you will help her create an online space to share her writing, you begin to worry that your own enthusiasm is missing in action.

Once you fired off not one, but three email reminders that it's that time of year again, you start to question the wisdom of reminding others who are going to ask about your work.

The panic though, settles in when you open the computer and there it is--the blank box and the blinking cursor, mocking you.

You know you're in trouble deep when it seems logical that you must have left the ideas behind when you crawled out of your warm bed, so you get up to back to find them.

I don't stand a chance

I'm so weak.
It's sitting there
on the ottoman I love, tempting me;
smooth, cool touch against my bare foot.

I can't.
It called me
from the shelf I passed, stopping me;
scent of ink and paper reaching my nose.

I mustn't.
It landed squarely
in the cart I pushed, knowing me;
promise of new words whispering in my ear.

I lean in.
It's mocking me
in my line of sight; knowing me;
colorful spine out, drawing my eye.

I wait.
It waits too
for the goal I set,  inviting me;
intentions slipping from my mind.

I don't stand a chance.

Excuses...

Um...hi.

You may have noticed that I haven't sliced for a while.

I could tell you that my ongoing spy fantasy has become a reality and I've been off saving the world from evil-genius types lurking in far-flung corners of the world. Actually, that's sort of true--maybe (there were a lot of spy stories on my summer book stack).

I could tell you that I've become addicted to Words with Friends and cannot tear myself away from my phone in case someone plays and it's my turn and I don't know it. Actually, that one's not quite accurate. I do find myself constantly checking to see if it's my turn when I play...but I only play occasionally.

I could tell you that I fell into the big chest freezer in the basement while bending over the edge as far as I could to see if we were really and truly out of ice cream again. Actually, this one could really happen, so I better not kid around. And maybe I'd better find a basement-ice-cream-check buddy just in case.

I could tell you that Husband, Oldest, Middle, Youngest and I have been on a fabulous family vacation to an exotic location. Actually, this is one I'd love to come true, but since it would require us to do things like get up off the sofa, I just don't see it happening.

I could tell you I've been busy doing things like reorganizing every cupboard and closet in the house or landscaping the yard or remodeling the kitchen. Actually, those are things I wish I'd do. But somehow, none of that happened....sort of like me keeping up with slicing....