The phone rings and it is the mother of a child DS#1 is to have a playdate with. She’s slightly changing our plans. Instead of her adorable child coming to my house, my adorable child is going to hers. Not a problem. But then I think, oh sheesh, I’m going to have to pick him up right at the time that I have to be leaving in the car to go get DS#2. That means DS#1 is going to have to leave his playdate earlier than he would like. Oh well. C’est la vie, I suppose. A shorter playdate is better than no playdate at all. He will have a five year cow over the changes, like me he doesn’t like things to alter from the way he thinks they are going to be.
Okay. I’ve handled my darling boy cranky before and I will handle it again. It’s just, I suppose, part of the job.
I turn my attention back to the computer. I need to finish writing Chapter 12. Its not an easy chapter. The hardest I have ever written and its possible that the CP is going to hate it. Frankly, the idea of rewriting it has my fingers frozen on the keyboard. But inaction is not in my makeup and I begin to type.
The phone rings. More plans are changing, a conversation that is hard to have about a dear friend’s current horrible divorce situation. My eyes tear up. Another thing about me? I like to fix other people’s problems. I like to make things better. If a person needs a job, I like to fix them one. If a person needs a hug, I like to give them one. If a person needs an ear, I give them one. Its frustrating to me to not be able to fix what ails a friend. The call waiting beeps. Sheesh. Lots of phone calls today. I close my computer.
Yesterday was hard, small hurts that affect my children affect me deeply. I don’t think the kids know this about me. They’re young still. It wasn’t until I was an adolescent that I realized that my mother suffered when I did and years later still before I would realize just how much my father did. They are both fixers. I get my inability to not help from both of them.
I rehash the pain from the day before with my girlfriend who is wiser than I am and reminds me that we have a limited time in life to make things right for our little ones. Still, in this case, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I simply don’t know if confrontating a truly despicable person will yield the result that I want or if it will make things worse.
I get off the phone. It rings again. Fast conversation again. I hang up. Maybe I need to learn to ignore it. Now, I can’t concentrate on my book. It’s a hard world to visit, much harder than the first time with the first book, because things are so much harder on my sixteen year old heroine in this book than they were before. I’m worked up over my friend’s pain and my son’s small hurt and I don’t know if I can take on my heroines at the moment.
I guess I could blog. But I don’t have a blog topic. Again. I go to my sister-in-law’s blog. Life on the Fringe. She is always so personal in her blogging, so touching, so real. I don’t know that I do that. I read her blog and cry. She almost always brings me to tears and I share the post on Facebook.
Its almost time to get my oldest from school. He has a half-day from school because of parent teacher conferences. Now I’m worrying about that. Its amazing I don’t have an ulcer.
I suppose I need to get myself ready to go. I wouldn’t want to be late to pick him up. He’s like me. Even at five, he will worry.