I have in my pocket a note card of the books I need to look for at the library. It’s in tiny writing and all of the numbers are near the 791’s not an area that I usually hangout in. But still I need to absorb the lives of these people even if it’s just to have someone near their margins, actually further away but in the same world. So lately I spend my time alternating between writing the ends of the first section of my story and expanding what I know about the next. I rather be creating the fiction but I need the factual background to make it work, so that I’m not putting elephants in pajamas instead of nightgowns.
The thing with the writing is that it leaks into the rest of my life I get distracted, I can’t focus on family things. How do I move my self in two worlds? I need to learn this, I need to be able to give wholly to Alder when I am with him, or at least when we are engaged with each other. But some days I find myself resentful of his questions, some days I wish he wouldn’t say Mama every time I walk out of the room. Of course a lot of this is the weather, even though we still go out to wander rain shortens our trips.
I’ll admit it I am not the best at getting down on my knees and play pretend with Alder right now, give me a project or an adventure and I’ll do fine. I remember spending hours involved with my younger cousins playing with them for hours on end, many days a week. But here as a grownup, with grownup thoughts and concerns I find that my attention does not hold. I really want to be able to return to that joy of playing but I can’t seem to focus on it right now. Maybe it’s all the things we never get done in our lives or maybe it’s age (I hope not) but for me to be engaging with him right now I need to be doing something beyond imaginative play. It also might be genetic, as a kid the only games my mom really played with me was racing Matchbox cars in the hallway or drawing pictures together. I think I’ve expanded my interactions with my own son but some days I can feel my own mother’s academic sensibilities creeping in.
Give me a few more sunny day and I’ll be back to normal, until then I’m going to keep my nose in a book and a yellow pad by my side.