Sunday, April 29, 2012


Laundry, sink full of dishes, puppy peed in the foyer, blahblahblah…story of my life.  Pickle jar spilled in the fridge, backed over my new sunglasses with the car because I was rushing, cell phone is so broken it requires duct tape, blahblahblah…story of my life.  The Father is traveling, my only adult contact occurs on Facebook, nobody is everfreakin’ home to help me when I run out of toilet paper, blahblahblah…story of my life.

This week I didn’t feel like I had much of a story.  The roaring declarations of last week’s post were a barely audible squeak.  Freaking out by Wednesday that I had to write an essay inspired by the word ‘story’ and certain by Saturday afternoon that I had nothing.  I actually had a bunch of stuff.  A bunch of junk.  Fits and starts.  Rants about Cinderella’s story and meditative thoughts about life’s chapters.  Looking everywhere for inspiration from the word ‘story’.  Nothing.  Too much.  Not enough. 

I spent all week looking for the story.  Thinking.  Wondering.  What’s her picture going to be about?  Where is she looking for her inspiration?  How is she seeing ‘story’ this week?
So that’s the story.  On the week when the story of my life was not a bestseller.  The story is about two busy women, sisters, mothers with their hands full, wives with often absent husbands…who are apparently crazy because they agreed to write a blog together, on top of everything else they have to do.  The story is about two crazy women who go about their week and occasionally think about the same word.  The story is about how you can search in very different places for the same thing.  Story.  Inspiration.

Love this quote.
“Shoot many arrows.  Where they land, call that the target.”  Tom Quinn

That’s kindof what I did this week.  Just send them all up.  And see where they land.  With a yeah I meant to do that attitude.  And on a Saturday afternoon, when you’ve got your headphones on and your children plugged into a movie so you can have a few moments to yourself to peck out a blog post on the computer you get interrupted by a child…blahblahblah…story of my life.

“Hey Mom!  Mom!  Maaaaah-mmmmmmm!”

“Yes Love?”  No, it doesn’t matter that I was in the middle of something else…I’ll stop what I was doing and listen to you now thankyouverymuch…sigh…

“Hey Mom!  What building on Earth?  On Theee.  Whole.  Planet?  Has the most stories?”

“Oh seriously…I have no idea.  It’s probably in Dubai or someplace like that with a lot of sand.  Is your movie over already?”

Eye rolling from the 8 year old…seriously who teaches them this stuff?

“Alright fine.  I don’t know.  What building on Theee Whole Planet has the most stories?”

“The library Mom.  Duh.”

Heh.  Ok, she got me.  I didn’t see that one coming.  Funny kid...story of my life.

Right on target.

1 comment:

  1. it seems its always that way, the stories overwhelm- so that the laundry loses its luster as its very own story, and we are swamped... good, nancy, good...