The Trinity of Me
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
It's deeply appropriate that I should be writing my first blog entry today. It's 4PM and I haven’t made it to the shower yet...
A day like today pretty much sums up my life.
Mother first. So, I'm home with Tillie, my younger daughter. This is Day 4, for her, of what we call 'the lurgy'. The doctor -- who I visited just so I could tell the school nurse I had -- defined it as a non specific virus... A fever, a cough like a 40 a day smoker, no appetite, general aches that can only be soothed by lying on mom for 8 hours at a time having a head rub... I am allowed up to fetch drinks but not, under any circumstances, to return phone calls or emails -- any move towards the computer elicits big clubbed-seal eyes. This does not make for productive time for me.
We should be reading Little House on the Prairie and playing Monopoly, I know, but we are watching television (don’t tell anyone). Our compromise channel (I want CNN election-arama, she wants Nickelodeon) is Bravo, which means back to back episodes of "Project Runway. "
Tillie’s big sister, Lulu, was home with 'the lurgy' all last week. (Why, oh why, can this sickliness not be synchronized?) So for me, it's actually Day 10. Unopened emails have hit 3 pages (panic point, for me), the laundry is piling up like a barricade (a vaguely smelly one, at that) and I'm thinking I might actually buy a sewing machine and start running up dresses (this is delusional-- I can't sew buttons -- perhaps I'm hallucinating for lack of fresh air…)
Wife second. That means showering, putting on high heels, and going downtown for dinner. It's work, a charity event, so that means he's making a little speech, and then I'm making a little speech (just like Bill and Hillary), we won't see each other all evening, and the bit I'll be most looking forward to is falling into the cab together at the end of the night and talking about it... He needs name on this blog -- I’ll think of one for next time...
Writer third. So I leave on Saturday evening for my UK book tour. And a rest, she guiltily admitted, since the patient(s) are staying behind with their father. I've taken all the clothes out of my closet to try and figure out which outfits make me look thin and sophisticated (neither of these is an entirely feasible aim, but you can't blame me for trying). When I sink into the seat on the plane on Saturday night (okay, after I've eaten the dinner and watched the movie), I'll start trying to figure out what I'm going to say to the radio interviewers and journalists and bookstore customers about Things I Want My Daughters to Know.
And did I mention that the publisher wants me to deliver the new novel by May...??!!
I'm not sure how to end these entries -- perhaps a TV style is appropriate given my last 10 days soooo -- "tune in next week for the next thrilling installment...!" might work.
Until then...
A day like today pretty much sums up my life.
Mother first. So, I'm home with Tillie, my younger daughter. This is Day 4, for her, of what we call 'the lurgy'. The doctor -- who I visited just so I could tell the school nurse I had -- defined it as a non specific virus... A fever, a cough like a 40 a day smoker, no appetite, general aches that can only be soothed by lying on mom for 8 hours at a time having a head rub... I am allowed up to fetch drinks but not, under any circumstances, to return phone calls or emails -- any move towards the computer elicits big clubbed-seal eyes. This does not make for productive time for me.
We should be reading Little House on the Prairie and playing Monopoly, I know, but we are watching television (don’t tell anyone). Our compromise channel (I want CNN election-arama, she wants Nickelodeon) is Bravo, which means back to back episodes of "Project Runway. "
Tillie’s big sister, Lulu, was home with 'the lurgy' all last week. (Why, oh why, can this sickliness not be synchronized?) So for me, it's actually Day 10. Unopened emails have hit 3 pages (panic point, for me), the laundry is piling up like a barricade (a vaguely smelly one, at that) and I'm thinking I might actually buy a sewing machine and start running up dresses (this is delusional-- I can't sew buttons -- perhaps I'm hallucinating for lack of fresh air…)
Wife second. That means showering, putting on high heels, and going downtown for dinner. It's work, a charity event, so that means he's making a little speech, and then I'm making a little speech (just like Bill and Hillary), we won't see each other all evening, and the bit I'll be most looking forward to is falling into the cab together at the end of the night and talking about it... He needs name on this blog -- I’ll think of one for next time...
Writer third. So I leave on Saturday evening for my UK book tour. And a rest, she guiltily admitted, since the patient(s) are staying behind with their father. I've taken all the clothes out of my closet to try and figure out which outfits make me look thin and sophisticated (neither of these is an entirely feasible aim, but you can't blame me for trying). When I sink into the seat on the plane on Saturday night (okay, after I've eaten the dinner and watched the movie), I'll start trying to figure out what I'm going to say to the radio interviewers and journalists and bookstore customers about Things I Want My Daughters to Know.
And did I mention that the publisher wants me to deliver the new novel by May...??!!
I'm not sure how to end these entries -- perhaps a TV style is appropriate given my last 10 days soooo -- "tune in next week for the next thrilling installment...!" might work.
Until then...