Hard to believe it’s been 40 days since I last posted. A common axiom is “time flies when you’re having fun,” and while we’ve all experienced that, I can’t blame my blog absence on fun.
A more true corollary is “time flies when you’re busy.” Think about it. No matter the job or situation, if you’re busy with assignments or “to do’s,” time slips by as quickly as a the perfect bloom. I could even use the clichéd “where does the time go?” but that would make me sound old. And after a recent birthday, I don’t need any more reminders about my age, thank you very much. In my heart, I’m still a 20-something with goals as big as mountains and unending determination and ability to scale those mountains.
Being busy is a basic truism in American society. We’re all busy. Many writers are busy juggling assignments among media, genres, and audiences. And the lucky few who make a living solely from writing novels are living two lives, the life of their characters and their other life.
Even busier are parents (and yes, I’m biased). For at least 18 years, and perhaps longer, a parent has given a large part of their heart and soul to a magnificent being. And at times, all of our minds as well. School assembly at 1; swimming or soccer practice after school, followed by music lessons of some sort, and an attempt at family togetherness over dinner before buckling down with reading and bedtime or serving as a sentry over older children while they do homework, projects, or study for tests. And that’s a slow day!
And if you’re by chance a parent and a writer, you’re juggling so many balls in the air, that you’re going to miss occasionally and get clobbered in the head.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing women who are mothers. You are truly super heroes.