Inside My Head

If you are like me (apologies offered if you are) then you often do things in your head that never make it to real life. 

One of the things I do is write blog essays.  I say "essays" instead of "posts" because these are things that I would like to take more time to write, and that I would like to have actual meaning. 

Some of you my know that I write novels at home.  These are primarily fairytales - because I like to read fairytales, and because creating fairytales provides the same kind of fun escape for me.  Once I was writing a more serious novel whose main character I had - like many authors - fashioned on myself.  (Incidentally, when I had peer readers look at some chapters they remarked that this character seemed to have some mental problems.  Hmm.)  After working on this for some time I became irritated and turned the story into a fairytale.  That is what my novel writing is for me.  A break from the yucky stuff. 

Still, in one of the alternate realities of my life...

(If you don't have these, you should.  In some of my alternate realities I am a professional ballerina, a world traveler, a farmer, and a member of the crew of the Enterprise.)

... I am an essay writer.  And the essays I write in this imaginary world have some cohesive meaning that comes to a point and makes sense.  You know, like things used to do before I had four children and lost most of my memory and many of my critical thinking skills.

Now that I have separated my family blog from my musings, I have decided to make some of these essays actually exist.  As to how often this might happen, I am not particularly sure.  After all, I am just barely managing to upload pictures of soccer lately.  But, I figure it is worth the effort.  To help me with this I bought a small notepad I could carry around and write my thoughts in.  (Would you believe that all these amazing essays I compose while wandering through my day are usually forgotten within 45 seconds of my "composing" them?  Oh, you would?  Well, then.)

This is what I wrote down this week:

Apple Slice vs. Whole Apple
Toys Upstairs
"Real" Mama

I have also thought about a topic I would refer to as:

Happy Together and Apart?

The last topic, I would actually like to work on.  It has some real thoughts in it.  The former three... are mostly about silly things my children have done.  (I do plan on posting some of that here.  I just am going to keep the zillions of photographs of my children on a more restricted site.)  So, now that I've rattled on forever already, I will impart the great wisdom of these three items to you.

Be prepared.  There is not great wisdom.  I apparently had an un-wisdom-ish week.

#1 - M will NOT eat apple slices.  But she will eat an entire apple.  Does it taste different?  Really?

#2 - Every day, at least three times, I must inform my children that "the toys stay downstairs."  This has been true since we moved here.  We have no toys in their bedroom, and we only have baby toys on the main floor.  This is because I am slightly compulsive, and need at least part of my house to seem clean.  Still, despite the fact that we have lived here two years, every day they bring toys upstairs.  And when I say "toys stay downstairs" they look at me in genuine surprise.  "The toys?"  "They go downstairs?"  Really.  I am not sure whether they forget, or whether they think I am so stupid that I will forget.

#3 - GQ will often be playing and call for "Mama".  When I answer, he replies:  "No, I meant my real Mama."  Meaning M, of course.  Boy he loves that girl.

Obviously none of these items were really "essay" types of topics.  But I'm warming up, and just trying to make myself do this.  And I'm thinking about that other one.  We'll see if I get anywhere with it.

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