Incompatible Realities

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June 21, 2013 by Angel Pricer

touchstoneThere’s nothing like an absence of incessantly bickering brothers and a brooding teenaged daughter venturing forth into adulthood to amplify just how much time and effort they consume.  Ah, such is the nature of raising children…or is it?

Today is the second full day that the kids have been away, and I made a commitment to myself to take full advantage of this time to write.  In some ways, I’ve set it up as a J.O.B., with breaks and such, but always getting back to the task.  That’s worked well, but it’s only been two days AND I don’t have to deal with the looming mental toll that accompanies the anticipation of rambunctious feet running through the door, launching armed paper airplanes into my carefully maintained state of mind.

These days have afforded me a glimpse into what is possible, at least in terms of the evolution of my writing.  And yes, by golly, I CAN sit my butt in the chair through the uncomfortable moments!  And thanks to fellow bloggers like Andra Watkins and her Cootchie Mama Crew, I’m making new friends and finding ways to balance social connections with solitary productive time.

But I am also looking forward to tiny faces smeared with jam, missing teeth, watching replays of Minecraft videos and being the trusted confidant for unfolding teenage drama.  Quiet nights are nice, but so is cuddle-story time.

Must I relinquish the dream of writing every day come Monday when the maroon Dodge Caravan returns my browned beach babes?  A week ago I’d have grudgingly, realistically said “yes, Angel, you silly woman – the kids are going to be home all summer and you’re on duty!”  Maybe it’s the rekindled love affair with my temporarily childless husband, or the visions with which the Summer Solstice Sun has tempted me, but I feel like I can have both.

How, then, do these two seemingly incompatible realities unite in a way that leaves neither lacking; a symbiotic nurturing of both roles?

There is a character in The Night Circus who uses a touchstone to draw forth the power necessary to keep created illusions intact.  I see no reason why such a feat needs to be confined to imagination, and I’m all about manifesting the impossible.  This morning, I made a small purchase.  One that will filter colorful beams of light into my kitchen as a daily reminder that I can write and raise kids and be a contented lover of both.  In the world I weave, equally enticing realities need not be mutually exclusive.

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