Lisa Writing Wild

I went back and read my very first blog post  from July 2009. It's like reading someone else's life. I can feel the excitement in that post. I was preparing to direct a short film I'd written. Working on that film is still a highlight in my life.  At that time I was 39, had a 3 1/2 year old son we'd just adopted, and I was writing constantly...comedy sketches, novels, screenplays (both short and long). And we were cleaning 3-4 houses a day.  Back then I read books on writing, listened to podcasts while cleaning (yes, way back then), and audiobooks all on writing.  Fast-forward 12 years, 8 months, and 14 days, and I'm nothing like that girl who thought about writing stories all day.  Now my days are filled with chasing my 2 year old, arguing with my 16 year old, and trying to pay enough attention to my 11 year old who gets lost in the middle. I simultaneously want more kids and miss the days of only having one.  Our house is always loud now. Like unnecessarily so.

  And from the looks of my old blog posts, it truly is consistent.  If I'm not completely forgetting my kids' doctors/dentist/eye appointments (even though they're written plain as day on my white board stuck to the fridge), I'm looking like an idiot during the office visit. Today I took my 11 year old in for his yearly check-up. I was only three months late. But I actually showed up, so...progress. When the doctor came in she read his chart and asked if he was still on the meds she prescribed last year, and if he'd been seeing the therapist she recommended. Now, if I'd been prepared for the questions, I would have had an answer ready. One that didn't make me look like a terrible, forgetful mother. But I wasn't prepared. So I just stared at her blankly and said, "Um...medicines? I don't think he...um..." and just repeated those fascinating words over and over until she just stared at me. She reminded me the meds were for his allergies (he&#