April 8, 2017
Ok. I missed two days. One of them was my birthday when I
turned wouldn’t-you-like-to-know. The other day was the day after my birthday.
What can I say, it was a big day, but I’d
allowed myself only two days to miss and I’ve gone and missed two days right in
row. So, today will probably be little more than jibberish, but a thousand
words it will be. It’s been a big week for me. A few days ago my daughter
asked me point blank whether or not there was a Santa Clause and my husband and
I had already agreed if she ever asked us point blank we’d tell her. She’s a
beautiful little believer in magic and fairies, Santa’s and Easter Bunnies and
I’ve always felt that’s just as it should be. A child’s imagination is so full
of magic already, having adults reinforce fantasy must magnify the potency of
such power. And we have, at every turn, gone out of our way to show her real or
possible magic in the world. After all, I still believe in fairies, too. I
imagined that when we had the Santa conversation it would just be confirming
something she already suspected, something classmates may have been trying to
tell her for a couple of years now, but that’s not how the conversation went.
Instead, she burst into tears and said, “So you’ve been lying to me all these
years??? It’s a trick???” And I through my arms around her and said, “No,
honey, not a trick!” And I started crying because the full impact of what was
happening really donned on me. The monumental milestone when my little girl,
who has always believed in Santa Clause, no longer does. And I saw how it could
be seen as a trick. Before this happened, Darren had asked if we ever have to
tell her at all. “Won’t other kids tell her?” He’d asked. But I knew they had
already tried and it was we who used loopholes to reinforce her belief.
Besides, I didn’t want her to find out from others and feel betrayed that we
hadn’t told her ourselves. It was a tough night for all of us. In the end, I
made homemade hot cocoa with real milk and real cocoa and we all cuddled up on
the couch sipping cocoa and listening while Darren read from our new favorite
family book: The Wind in the Willows. It’s weird sharing this…because for all I
know someone else may actually be reading this. You might be reading this. But
I can’t let that get in the room with me while I write because one of the many
goals of this thousand word a day thing, the purpose of writing in this
no-correction, stream-of-conscious style is to unclog…me. To clear out craft
and be more authentically from my heart. That means getting some skin in the
game. This could get hard some day. Right now: This is pure
keep-the-keys-clicking fodder so I can get in my thousand words before my big
date tonight.
Okay, what else happened this week. Well I turned wouldn’t-you-like-to-know
and that could be a big deal. But it’s really not. For the first time possibly
since I was 10, I just got excited about the presents. Is there something
happening on the subconscious level? Probably. But ever since I’ve been on my
own at 16 and had to fight for my right to be met on my own merit and not be
defined by something as arbitrary as a birthday, I’ve worked hard to not let
that define me in any way. Not by me. Not by you.
I had a woman in a store who happened to have the same birthday ask me how old I turned and I just smiled and said, “I don’t share that information.” She kept pressing, and I kept refusing to answer. I found it rather rude, actually. She was getting angry and offended that I wouldn’t tell her, something I kind of get a kick out of, a lot of people seem to become irritated that I won’t tell them. I mean they get UPSET! It’s baffling and amusing at the same time. Doesn’t anyone remember manners? Doesn’t anyone remember it’s actually rude to ask someone how old they are, how much they weigh, how much money they make, etc. etc. Yet they are the one’s getting upset. Shrug.
I had a woman in a store who happened to have the same birthday ask me how old I turned and I just smiled and said, “I don’t share that information.” She kept pressing, and I kept refusing to answer. I found it rather rude, actually. She was getting angry and offended that I wouldn’t tell her, something I kind of get a kick out of, a lot of people seem to become irritated that I won’t tell them. I mean they get UPSET! It’s baffling and amusing at the same time. Doesn’t anyone remember manners? Doesn’t anyone remember it’s actually rude to ask someone how old they are, how much they weigh, how much money they make, etc. etc. Yet they are the one’s getting upset. Shrug.
Okay 744 words so far. Less than 300 to go and I have five
minutes. Can I do 300 words in 5 minutes? Told you, gibberish. Okay, so next
interesting and personal thing happened this week. I got my period!!! Yep! For
your info: I thought I might be pregnant. I was two months late and I’m never,
ever late. Unless I’m pregnant. I’ve taken four pregnancy tests and they’ve all
been negative but everyone I know, including my doctor and nurse practitioner
knows a story of someone who tested negative a zillion times but delivered a
baby somewhere between 7 and nine months later none-the-less, so we’ve been
kind of sweating over here. On the one hand, it could really be cool to have a
baby again. To raise it with my daughter. To raise it with all that I know now.
To be less afraid, doubting and clueless than I have been for the last 7 years.
This is really no fair to anyone reading this right now. I’m literally just
trying to tap out …less than a hundred words now. Apologies. Hopefully I’ll do
better next time, but that’s kind of the cool thing about this process. You
never know what you’ll find and I never know what I’ll write. Maybe it turns to
a gold story I sell and use the money for a trip to Mexico, maybe it’s absolute
crap. Okay twenty words to go. Anybody got any ideas for the 20…now twelve
words. Wait, my word counter isn’t working anymore, what the hey??? 1002. Done!
No comments:
Post a Comment