Confession Saturday

It has been ages and ages since my last confession.  I am here to tell you that there are still plenty of small guilts and worries running around my little brain, but fewer of the Big Guilts.  Without further adieu, I confess:

~I am sometimes my own worst enemy when it comes to finding time to write.  It's hard for me to turn away from my mother/wife role in order to claim writing time for myself.  For example, this morning Husband offered to take all three children with him to do the grocery shopping so that I could have some time to write.  I said thanks-but-no-thanks, maybe we should all go together, that would be easier for you. Sometimes Husband knows what I need even more than I do.  He insisted on taking the children.  I confess, I'm so glad he did.

~Lately I have been telling the children "Mom has to work" instead of "Mom's going to write for a while." I confess, this seems to help them (and me) take my writing time a little more seriously.

~I confess, the Summer of Revision has been going along only in fits and starts.  I have not devoted as much time as I would like to re-seeing old poems, but I have been braver and more focused on revising the new work I've generated this summer.

~I have not put away the winter clothes yet.  At this point, it no longer seems reasonable to "change the closets" (as those of us in northern climates do twice a year) since winter is just around the corner.

~I confess, it's a little dramatic to say "winter is just around the corner" in August.  But, truly, it feels that way to me sometimes.

~I confess, as the year begins to turn I start buying what I think of as Peasant Vegetables in increasingly large quantities.  Cabbages, turnips, parsnips, squashes, rutabaga, carrots, potatoes.  The Peasant Vegetable urges have just begun; I bought a turnip yesterday.  The urges will increase in intensity until one day in January, when I will look into the cupboard and find six butternut squashes staring me in the face, at which point I will mutter, What was I thinking?

~I confess, I'm a peasant at heart.

~I grew up without air conditioning, so I'd like to think I could very well live without it.  However, I confess, when our AC unit starting making squealy noises on Tuesday night, it was all I could do not to burst into tears.  In my defense, we have had lots of very hot and humid weather in these parts.  (BTW, the AC unit is still plugging along....... fingers crossed).

~I confess, I sometimes feel more like a referee than a mother these days, as the Three Lovelies have become quite expert at finding a way to argue about almost anything, including who "gets to" set the table (Really?  They're arguing over who has do to a chore?).  There are times when I want to sneak out the back door amidst the fracas and see how long it takes them to figure out I'm gone.  I confess, it helps when I remind myself that This Is My Job right now.  A few years ago, it was my job to wipe posteriors and faces and the floor beneath the high chair 75 times a day.  Now, it's my job to teach them how to work things out with kindness and civility 75 times a day.  Breathe, Mama, breathe.

~I confess, the house is a mess and there are several loads of dirty clothes in the laundry room, and I am going to ignore all that and write some poems.