Okay, I’ll have lots of baby details, but not now. Easton Wayne was born March 19 and I’ll have the story tomorrow. I have lots of things I want to do in my life. I have a hard time with the small things. I think I’ve written about that before. Here is my attempt to do something different.
I don’t get up when I need to in the mornings, nor do I go to bed early. I need to get up despite how rough of a night we’ve had. I need to write every day. I need to be honest with myself and others no matter how I think others will feel or what they’ll think. If I have a problem, I need to address it and not hope it goes away. I usually forget what my problem was in the first place. I need to quit being a puss.
One thing I’ve learned from my last required bullshit class (turns out it wasn’t a bullshit class!) is that I can’t let life interfere with my “art.” I’m no artist, but hopefully one day I will be able to make a living by writing. I must write to be a writer. I’m writing…I need to be more child like. Children are passionate and not afraid of failure or trying something new. Children are also brutally honest.
I need to be honest when there’s conflict. Jeff is the only person that I am not afraid to say what I think and feel. I’m not afraid of hurting his feelings. There is such a trust and love there that I need to tell him exactly what is on my mind. Sure, I try not to be hateful and say things in the most loving way, but I am completely honest with him. I can’t say that about anyone else. I am mostly honest with my mom. There are some things I hold back so that I avoid conflict, but I’m mostly not afraid of the truth with her and Bob. I’m honest with my kids, but try to keep certain truths age appropriate.
Okay, there’s a few things I need to work on. Oh yeah, I need to floss more and take my vitamins and watch what I eat. I need to be my best. I can put away my clean clothes as soon as they are folded. Jeff’s nice enough to do the laundry. I should put it up and not let it pile up. I need to write. A writer writes. I’m writing.
What do you think about this poem? I’m a crappy poet, but am working on the craft. Here it goes, I’m putting myself out there for honest criticism. I got my feelings hurt when I got a low score, but I am a writer working on her craft. Here’s me being crafty! This is a villanelle style poem, which is why two of the lines repeat:
Dreaming of the Way Things Were
I shut my eyes wishing for sleep
Trying not to listen for muffled breaths
I have never counted so many sheep
Hours dive into pool of night, deep
Drowning and suffocating our sanity
I shut my eyes wishing for sleep
Half awake, from his room I creep
Finally falling into dreamland’s depths
I have never counted so many sheep
From my blissful reprieve I leap
Maybe a nap, later, to refresh
I shut my eyes wishing for sleep
Isn’t it your turn, I dare think
My staying home you didn’t appose
I have never counted so many sheep
Daylight through my blinds seep
Precious bundle only needs to be close
I shut my eyes wishing for sleep
I have never counted so many sheep
