The Distractions of a Spring Breaking Family

After getting over my initial ire of writing the blog and having it disappear into the internet mist, I have carefully reconnected my heart and fingers, ready to write that which I wish to share: Spring Break is a respite for many in that it serves as a time to "get away" from the doldrums of the stressful or mundane life and just take a relaxing, well, break from it all. And of course, it is in the spring, or almost, hence the name. For some, it is a time to commit to projects around the house, do some deep cleaning, treat the yard for weeds or trim back those not so lively bushes. For others, it could mean cleaning out the garage or closets packed full of junk from a lifetime of saving stuff because we think we'll need it later, only to find that later, we don't need it. And still, it might mean even still rented movies, excessive food choices or some extra shopping. If I, however, asked my children how they looked at Spring Break, it would be an overwhelming "Thank God we aren't in school"....with sleeping late, staying up late, playing video games, foregoing showers, dressing like a slob (well, for some of them), playing outside or in, maybe a day at the beach or local pool. It means DO NOTHING after a long stretch of work, homework, testing and practices. I will say that my family is rarely able to afford the luxuries that some do by packing up and going on week long ski trips or staying in a swanky hotel in some grand location, as the prices this time of year are often elevated. We are bargain hunters and travel on deals at the cheaper times. For Spring Break, the biggest trip we have taken? Camping at an RV Park in a tent on the beach. So, as a writer here on Digital Journal who is fortunate enough to enjoy a normal week of writing bliss that involves silent days where the only sounds heard come from a clicking keyboard, the snoring 200 lb Mastiff on his blanket or the 7 lb siamese batting at window treatments and hissing at the dog in order to remove him from his bed, I currently struggle a bit with my time. No, I struggle a lot with my time. I am not the one who grabs just any story because I want to get them out. I spend between 2 and 3 hours researching different facets of a story to find as much truth as I can about the "whole" case and understand better about whom I am writing. Its as much about me as it is the reader or the story. I may take a side or may not link every single one of the 30 sources I visit or that I contact, but I love to research. On a good day in all my silence, I can put out about 4 good pieces that I enjoy and learn from as well as tend to my home, my family and myself. Fair. But this week.....someone threw a wrench in my carefully organized machine and I found myself disappointed that I could only put out one, maybe two pieces. My research limited and my writing, well thrown to the back pages of that which is deemed important. I began feeling a tad weak and let down but then I thought..... How very lucky I am! As my 9 days have been full of a loving husband willing to keep my coffee mug full for me and ensure I have snacks or that our meals are planned out, I have noticed that I haven't had to get myself one tiny morsel of food. Did I mention my husband is home too on Spring Break? Yes. And my writing time may be disrupted by soundbytes of a 6 year old's demands for cereal, toaster waffels, the fact that Master Chief from Halo doesn't have a face under the mask or that I show interest in the two new llego creations he managed to develop on his own in exact replica of some detailed warship. The peaceful sounds might be tainted with rows over who touched who or which one got to the upstairs TV first or the sounds of Hannah Montanna's latest episode or for some unknown reason, all televisions on full blast and yet, not one having a viewer. And there is my husband, careful NOT to interrupt me directly but ever pacing and fidgety in the background because he wants my time and yet I am ticking away at the darned computer - but he dare not interrupt. Therefore, he is patient and watches old war movies instead. And when done, he keeps us on track as we head to the eye exams he made for us all and to the mall where he indulged me in getting some fabulous hip Madras print shorts (for him, not me). He even drove to 3 locations to ensure all of us had the junk fast food we wanted...and never complained. :) He did the grocery shopping, got new smoke detectors, some great intimacy enhancer stuff, 2 dozen roses, great shampoo and conditioner for me with tea tree oil...and yet never missed the opportunity to tell me how much he loved me or how beautiful I am. And he grew a goatee. And of course, there are the bits of dog food that have fallen out of the muzzle of my giant beast that none of my weekly "guests" seem to see sitting on the floor. The disability of the dog becomes the floor additives for mom and yet another item to ignore for the rest of the crew. Not to mention the newly accumulated dishes that didn't seem to be in the sink last week. I didn't know that five could create this many cups! Or the peanutbutter covered butterknife stuck to the dishtowel that had fallen in the sink. Or the crumbs all over the counter from the toast that was made not once, not twice, but three times by the same child. Ahhhh, and the butter sitting on the counter....the jelly on the table....the empty packages that once contained some yummy snack that didn't manage to make it into the trash can just a few inches away. Shoes have multiplied like rabbits. Towels should be disposable and the shampoo? Its disappearing at a rate of 1/2 a bottle a day. Why? Didn't we normally take showers or were they not using shampoo before? Of course, it also seems as though the food has disappeared at that same rate. The house is a wreck, the clothes are piling up.... But then I remember just how fortunate I am to be at home with my family and all of their disruptions, and messes, and laughter, and joking, and creativity, and affection. Not many have the opportunity to snuggle with their 6 year old on a hammock on a screened in porch looking at a shrimp boat heading out to do its job. Few are afforded the site of seeing their unsocial son have a sleepover, successful, and maintain maturity and a level of normalcy that isn't often seen. Today it was the movies, maybe later it will be lighting the Chiminea and roasting marshmallows and making smores, together, laughing and trying to teach the youngest that roasting the marshmallow will not set your entire body on fire and the oldest that a black marshmallow is indeed disgusting and that they all go great with chocolate. :o) Who knows what tomorrow will bring. We may go fishing and dad gets to continually re-bait the hooks, while I dodge the kids flinging very sharp objects loaded with dead meat into the bay....wondering what they will catch. Mom always catches the neat stuff: an eel, a grouper, dog fish. Dad always catches the giant stuff. The kids? They get the baby fish. I think dad rigs the poles. To my co-writers, the DJ staff and all those who are regular commenters on my articles, I want to say any delay or decrease in output specifically for this week is not because I don't want to write. Quite the contrary. However, it is because I adore writing and my DJ compadres. However, the distractions of my little angels win out.......every time. By the way, my 6 year old informed me today after Paul Blark's Mall Cop that because the word A** was said in the movie, it should be rated R. He also informed me it isn't appropriate to laugh in serious situations. The movie was a riot and although I wanted to write more today, I would much rather be watching a movie with my family. See you guys in full form next week. I will surely miss my husband's ever attentive filling of the coffee mug!