Lisa Writing Wild

  My go-to when I need to just chill is definitely a movie. I can't read books anymore during the day. I'm constantly interrupted by a kid needing something or crying about something. Which, I get it, I'm a mom. It's in the job description that I'm interrupted all day, every day. But, for me, it's too hard to get back into a book once I've had to stop to change a poopy diaper or find a snack for the 600th time that hour.  A movie is easier to pause and jump back to. Plus, I'm a visual person and can easily get drawn into a movie and its world.  Two of my favorite go-to comfort movies are: Take This Waltz with Seth Rogan and Michelle Williams, and Little Birds with Juno Temple and  Kay Panabaker. I've watched them both many times and they never fail to relax me.  I don't normally read until I'm in bed, unless it's aloud to the kids or for school. But my all-time-favorite book that brings me right back to being 11 and reading with a flash

 I always have good intentions. They usually end with me yelling at someone. Or sometimes no one specific. Today is beautiful outside, so my intention was to do our homeschooling on our deck. The stairs are blocked off with multi-colored gates I found on the side of the road. We have a kiddie slide and rocking horse on the deck. But, of course, she likes to play with the burned charcoal under the grill. Anyway...I cleaned our glass table and brought out dusty books on space outside. (Dusty because we were in Florida for two weeks and I haven't been homeschooling consistently. You can also tell it's been a minute because my son said, "I didn't think we did school anymore," when I called him outside.) I should have known better. The image I had in my head for how our schooling would go, was nothing like reality. It started out nice. Then I ended up jumping up every two or three minutes to get her water, or socks, or she pooped. Or this...  I brought us inside after

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&#