Now you all know how it is that I get so very much done. I have a lot of help. He's good, isn't he? He's an amazing Papa, fabulous creative thinker and sounding board, perfect morning bed-peeler, and so very much more. Thanks for hosting him for the week - I think he liked it (enough that he's promised me he'll return in a month for my final deadline push). In the meantime, while I continue to work away on this manuscript, how about some back to normal crafts and a lot of photos around here for the month? Good, good.
The Creative Family was written almost entirely out and about - coffee shops, libraries, and anywhere else I could bum free wifi. But this second book - being primarily a craft book - has me running from cutting table, to sewing machine to computer constantly. And so home is where I'm writing, a couple of days a week. It is a lovely place to work, I will say. Home is good, but home is not without it's interruptions. Bless the man outside the door who creatively engages, plays, feeds and acts as goalie. But sometimes - one slips by him. Three, actually:
Calvin's interruptions usually involve sitting down quietly with me for a minute (they each have an ongoing project in my room for just such visits). And then...in the quietness of the studio and with the handwork of his embroidery, we have some really amazing chats about, well, life. Six year olds know a lot about life. Oh, yes they do. But then...sometimes he's also the bearer of the 'staff-splitting' questions (as we call them), such as, "Can I ride my bike without my helmet if I'm just going on the grass? I think Papa said I could." Uh-huh. Right.
Ezra - in the perfectly middle child way - first peeks through the keyhole of the door, then sneaks in (not so sneakily), standing in this little corner with a grin on his face until I acknowledge that he's there. At that point I'm usually met with a wonderful Ezra story, or a puzzle, or a question to ponder with much debate. Such as, "Mama. Would you rather be a pirate, or have a really really really big foot" Hmn...I'll think on that one.
Adelaide's specialty is a strong and fast push of the door open, a thundering of her usually naked body across the room to me, followed by a sweet, coy and hopeful (I swear those eyelashes are batting at me), "Milkey, Mama? Milkey? Now?" O-kay. If that doesn't work for her, she usually settles for a swipe on her way out the door of the size 50 knitting needles (really), chanting the pirate 'arghhh!' all the way.
Sometimes, I will admit, these little interruptions are frustrating, and working at home can be really, really hard on all of us. And I am eternally grateful for those moments when everyone is whisked away to the skate park, the woods, or to visit the grandparents and I can work in solitude. But sometimes? Working at home and all of it's many interruptions -
is amazing. Amazing and full of good little unexpected moments that inspire me, make me
laugh, and give me energy to keep going.
It's true. I've got a lot of help.
