How can I write when there are so many entertaining distractions at my house? Why just this morning, when I could have been writing or reflecting deeply on the meaning of existence, I instead played "Scattercat," a game very enthusiastically invented by my two year old. The game is initiated when she, while sitting in my bed, asks innocently, "Mom, will you be Scattercat?" If the answer is yes, then I get to take on the persona of a bipolar cat. She typically shoves me under the covers where I protest with growls and hisses.
Then she asks in a sweetly cooing voice, "Scattercat, are you okay? Are you being nice? Do you want to pat a ball? Are you ticklish?" Scattercat must, of course, respond to all of these queries using cat-language only, and the game will go on as long as I allow it. I realize that this all may sound completely torturous, and perhaps it would be apart from the fact that the inventor of the game gets so excited and seems utterly convinced that I have actually transformed into a somewhat psychotic feline. To be honest I think playing Scattercat provided more insight into the meaning of existence than quiet reflection would have anyway.
Keep in mind that the two year old inventor of Scattercat and other games, who sometimes brings me wrapped presents which are "NOT a dragon named Tyrone" because "that's too scary," is not the only source of distraction at my house. I also have some other kids. The middle one likes to print recipes off the Internet and busy herself in the kitchen making things like apple pie salad or happy hedgehog potatoes. While she is busy in the kitchen, she tends to turn on music and dance like no one's watching. She is a girl after my own heart, and I cannot resist getting in on that action. (Don't forget that I also have control issues when it comes to my kitchen, and on the rare occasions that I have allowed my kids to create in the kitchen while unsupervised, the results have been, in my opinion, completely disastrous.)
Then there is my oldest daughter who can distract me almost effortlessly. She has learned to put off bedtime by asking irresistible questions like, "Were the Nazis stupid?" or "Do you know who Lucille Ball is?" (Do I ever!?) or "Do you have any ideas for my Harry Potter birthday party?" I can talk to and listen to that girl all night, and she knows it.
Finally do not underestimate the distracting influence of that guy named George. His Blake Shelton impression leaves me no choice. I must put my book down and howl in laughter. I manage to choke out the words, "Stop distracting me! I am trying to read about how to live in the moment!!" My husband is usually a welcome distraction, especially since 'living in the moment' with him often involves convulsing with laughter until I cannot catch my breath. My daughter Emma witnessed this for the first time recently and noted incredulously, "Mom! I've never seen you like this before!"
So while I have not been writing these last couple of weeks, I have been living. I have sat at the computer and typed a few sentences at a time, but something always pulls me away, and...
Then she asks in a sweetly cooing voice, "Scattercat, are you okay? Are you being nice? Do you want to pat a ball? Are you ticklish?" Scattercat must, of course, respond to all of these queries using cat-language only, and the game will go on as long as I allow it. I realize that this all may sound completely torturous, and perhaps it would be apart from the fact that the inventor of the game gets so excited and seems utterly convinced that I have actually transformed into a somewhat psychotic feline. To be honest I think playing Scattercat provided more insight into the meaning of existence than quiet reflection would have anyway.
Keep in mind that the two year old inventor of Scattercat and other games, who sometimes brings me wrapped presents which are "NOT a dragon named Tyrone" because "that's too scary," is not the only source of distraction at my house. I also have some other kids. The middle one likes to print recipes off the Internet and busy herself in the kitchen making things like apple pie salad or happy hedgehog potatoes. While she is busy in the kitchen, she tends to turn on music and dance like no one's watching. She is a girl after my own heart, and I cannot resist getting in on that action. (Don't forget that I also have control issues when it comes to my kitchen, and on the rare occasions that I have allowed my kids to create in the kitchen while unsupervised, the results have been, in my opinion, completely disastrous.)
Then there is my oldest daughter who can distract me almost effortlessly. She has learned to put off bedtime by asking irresistible questions like, "Were the Nazis stupid?" or "Do you know who Lucille Ball is?" (Do I ever!?) or "Do you have any ideas for my Harry Potter birthday party?" I can talk to and listen to that girl all night, and she knows it.
Finally do not underestimate the distracting influence of that guy named George. His Blake Shelton impression leaves me no choice. I must put my book down and howl in laughter. I manage to choke out the words, "Stop distracting me! I am trying to read about how to live in the moment!!" My husband is usually a welcome distraction, especially since 'living in the moment' with him often involves convulsing with laughter until I cannot catch my breath. My daughter Emma witnessed this for the first time recently and noted incredulously, "Mom! I've never seen you like this before!"
So while I have not been writing these last couple of weeks, I have been living. I have sat at the computer and typed a few sentences at a time, but something always pulls me away, and...
I HAS WRITERZ BLOCK!
(I have also spent some time trying to get my own cat to pose for this photo without any success. I think this was a valuable use of my free time, but in the end, our own Scattercat was not amused, so I borrowed the above image from http://www.bunnycute.com/page/20/ .)
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