Goddess of the Dustbunnies & Time Won't Give Me Time (and time makes lovers feel like they got something real...)

So I didn't clean and it didn't matter. My friend ended up having to stay home and take care of the kiddos as her husband went out of town. I completely understand this and have recently had it happen to me--not out of town, but I had realized my husband had scheduled a trade and so goes my poetry plans. In the big picture, not a big deal, but I've been thinking about the balance between poet and parent. Writer's Digest is even sponsoring an essay contest on this "When Parenting and Writing Collide."

Here are the details--


CONTEST: ARE YOU A WRITER MAMA (OR PAPA)?

Writing's hard; parenting's harder. Only the
strongest souls would consider doing them both at
the same time, and we applaud that spirit.

"Writer's Digest" wants to hear from you on the topic
of: "When Parenting and Writing Collide." Write your
best original, unpublished parenting-and-writing
story in a 500-word essay and e-mail it to
mailto:publicity(at)fwpubs.com
(replace (at) with @)
with "Writer Mama contest" in the subject line.
Christina Katz, author of
"Writer Mama," will select the top three entries. The
first-place entry will be published in an upcoming
issue of "Writer's Digest" magazine; second- and
third-place entries will be posted on
thewritermama.com. All winners will receive a signed
copy of "Writer Mama." All entries must be e-mailed
to by March 31
(replace (at) with @).

The entry must be written in the body of the e-mail;
attachments will not be accepted or opened. Each
entry should include your name, address, telephone
number and e-mail address. Only the winning writers
will be contacted, and entries will not be returned.
"Writer's Digest" retains first-time rights to run the
winning entries in the magazine and/or on our
website or associated websites, after which all rights
return to the author. The decisions of the editors are
final.

____________________________________________

My writing life collides with parenting and just about everything else daily. I'm a sort of bumpercar poet maneuvering through errands, kids, grad school, husbands (um, that should be singular--husband), and usually ramming everything head on. I think writers always collide with real life things and that's good.

Imagine if our writing only reflected what we've read and what we've learned. Life is changing daily at record speed, there are new products, new words, new species of leopards. My gawd, I *just* learned about this "internet phenomenon" called "Second City" as well as Craig's List, The Housewives of Orange County, and the Diva Cup. By the way, there's a hilarious conversation about the Diva Cup going on here, but if you don't like talking or reading about menstruation, be warned.

I am someone who can live in my little seaside world without much need for the outside world. I was the last person in America to learn who the Spice Girls were (though I think that shows highly in my favor) as well as Britney Spears, yet I think I could have lived a long and happy life without knowing of either of these two. But life is going on around us.

I think about that story where each moment is a series of boxes and between each box are little elves who add dust and cobwebs, who age the furniture and scratch the floors. Maybe this isn't a real little story but something I made up in my head when I was little to understand the passing of time. I'm fascinated by the seconds we never get back and that void we sleep through each night. Really, it amazes me that for eight hours life just stops. It's a little like dying and waking up to a new life each morning.

But I'm off track. I've entered my bumper car and I'm spinning in circles. What I had wanted to say today was that my writing time came first and I am thankful it did.