Write stuff.

I just returned from a teacher conference. Conference subject: writing. Not the mechanics ... the content. It's a big leap from writing a paragraph on some random topic to writing with depth and focus. My daughter is a very strong student who loves to learn. Now, hopefully, she understands the difference between narrative and expository writing.

My kids have watched me write their entire lives. From the day each came home from the hospital, I've freelanced, writing copy around Mother's Morning Out and nap time, before and after ballet recitals and band concerts, and long after they've gone to bed. Now that they're older, my writing time is more seamless and focused. I can actually write for hours at a time, without interruption. Bliss.

I don't know if they got the writing gene from me or if it's a bit of osmosis, but they're both really strong writers. Their "voices" are idiosyncratic and very much different from mine. I love reading their work and take great care not to offer an opinion beyond a few pointers about mechanics and transitions.

Today, I'm starting a long-term project for one of my favorite clients (we've been together "virtually" for more than a decade) and a one-off video voiceover for an organic grocery in New York that DELIVERS ORGANIC FOOD AND GOODS TO YOUR DOOR. Since I am still mourning the demise of WebVan, this assignment compounds my longing for home delivery.

My freelance cup runneth over.

I love writing. One day it's framing products and a speech for Miss Virginia, the next it's furniture and organics. How cool is that? The range of topics and media keeps me on my toes and writer's block at bay. (Writing for Dunwoody Nature Center is a little bit of pay-it-forward I always enjoy.)

The only downside for my family is that I go completely into the writing zone when I'm working. I don't hear, see, or talk coherently until I finish for the day. Or night. So they can stand right beside my chair, tell me something very, very important, and I have absolutely no clue what they said. Or that they're even there. I think the ability to tune out distractions is a gift. My family calls it annoying.

Ah, well.

Back to work.

Ironing out a few things.

Once upon a time, when I was the biggest overachiever mom in the universe, I ironed everything. I ironed baby tshirts and onesies, my own t's and denim shorts, starched every button down collar and button placket, and made sure every skirt pleat had a nice sharp edge.

I also kept floors spotless, changed bedlinens every week, and couldn't abide a spot or smear on a window.

At the same time I was channeling June Cleaver, I was billing 40-60 hours a week as a freelance copywriter, in pockets of time between naps and preschool, then in solid chunks from 7 PM bedtime until well past midnight (including weekends).

Sound exhausting? It was heavenly. I had a lot to do and I did it. That sense of accomplishment is pretty darned satisfying.


Ten years later, I'm still ironing ... reluctantly and only when the basket is overflowing with shirts and skirts I'd forgotten my daughter and I owned. Floors get a lick and a promise when they're noticeably dirty. I trained the kids to wash sheets and make their own beds. (Their bedrooms no longer look like a Southern Living photo spread ... they're in charge of keeping those tidy, too.)

While my interest in June Cleaver-isms has decidedly waned,  I'm still freelancing. Because I really, really like writing. I'm also putting in mornings at the Nature Center and broadening my folk skills (knitting, gardening, weaving, sewing). Because I also like the idea of sustainability and self-reliance.

This afternoon, as I ironed three dozen napkins, a shirt my daughter will be thrilled to see again, and some cloth prewashed for a sewing project, I was content. There's little room in my overbuilt schedule for complete idleness, but that's by design. I don't like idle. I like doing. So what looks to others like a crazy quilt day filled with work and volunteering and chores and precious time with my family looks like peace to me.

The more I do, the more I get done.

It may be another month before I get the iron out again. Meanwhile, the dryer has a handy-dandy "refresh" button that gives a do-over every time we forget to unload it. Bliss.

Remicade day.

Today is A's seven-week Remicade treatment, so I've taken a day off from the Nature Center. We'll get to the infusion lab at GI Care for Kids by 915 and he'll be hooked up to the IV for three hours. While he's passing the time with DVDs and Nintendo, I'll sit in the parents' micro-waiting room and work on a freelance assignment. Hurray for laptops!

This particular assignment is a "boomerang," a re-direction in style and format that has gone through second thoughts and now needs a fresh start. The client has a tight deadline, so I do, too. The three hours will pass quickly . . . my goal is to have most of it reworked by the time A's infusion is complete.

I've worked on hundreds of collections through the years, for high end designers and mid-range brands you'll find in the pages of Southern Living and Better Homes and Gardens. The furniture collection I'm profiling today is one that I would love to have in my own home. Ssshhh . . . can't say anything about the design or name because it's a big intro for my client. Even the name is cool.

Once I've finished the writing assignment, I'll dive back into the Vogue Sideways Cardigan project. I finished the back and am now getting ready to start one of the front pieces. Fun thing about the pattern (note: sarcasm) . . . the directions for the back didn't include ANY binding off point. They just stopped, as if there were about four stitches left on the needles for the shoulder area. As if. I had 24 on the needles and just bound off. I figure once I get to seaming, anything that doesn't fit can be adjusted at that stage. I want to finish it by this weekend because AG and I are heading to Savannah with her Girl Scout troop for a mother-daughter trip. It'll be a great piece to wear in the evenings.

On to Remicade. And writing. And knitting. Oh, yeah, and baking - I need to make a batch of goodies for the fab teachers and junior counsellors working summer camp this week at Dunwoody Nature Center.

Day off? I think not!

The winter of our discontent

Spring just can't come soon enough. I'm likely placing way too much hope that spring will bring change for the better. When I fret, I knit prayer shawls. I just finished one in record time that has prayers for so many people woven into every stitch. Sharing those prayers in such a public forum seems somehow intrusive and self-serving, so suffice to say that a winter's worth of suffering just HAS to end.

The Comfort Shawl pattern is one of my favorites for combining yarns and varying the size. You can find the pattern here: http://www.knitting-and.com/knitting/patterns/shawls-shrugs/comfort-shawl.htm. I crocheted a ruffle along the edge for a bit of whimsy and am quite pleased with how it turned out. The mix of yarns - a thick fuzzy merino, some novelty yarn, and a heathered wool work well together. Now I'm thinking about using some girly pinks and greens for the next shawl.

The mukluks turned out exactly according to the design, except I felted them too long. So they fit AG's feet perfectly. When they're supposed to be larger so they'll fit next fall. Darn it. AG wants them anyway because "they feel like big thick socks." I'm going to give her the rejects and cast on another pair. They really do knit up quickly, I like the way they look, AG loves how they feel, and the yarn isn't expensive (hurray Paton's Classic Merino!), so I'm not too bugged.

I have two more weeks of Preschool Phonics after Spring Break, and am both sad to see another class of preschoolers move on to Kindergarten and glad to have some free time. My freelance writing assignments are coming in steadily (I have another speech to write this week and just finished a really technical piece for an IT company), so it's good to have more hours to put into those jobs. And the Nature Center is gearing up for summer camps and the Butterfly Festival, which means exhausting times ahead.

But right now, it's cold and damp outside and Spring seems just too far away. So I'll go cast on another prayer shawl and keep a little faith in better days ahead.

How did that happen?

Wow. It's Wednesday. It was just Sunday a day ago. Or not. I'm having quite a few of those "wow" moments these days.

• Wow, I haven't talked to Diane, Karen, Jane, Karen (that's a different Karen), Diane (different Diane), Sandy, Karen (yep, another Karen), Jan, Cathy, Jill in AGES.
• Wow, I didn't write a note to bereaved family/neighbor in crisis/relative in distress and now the moment's passed.
• Wow, that Clapotis started and frogged awfully fast and I haven't started it over again yet.
• Wow, it's nearly spring and I haven't planned a family trip for the summer (it's all about the dog's kennel availability).
• Wow, the issue of Dunwoody cityhood is looming large and I haven't sent nearly enough emails to support it.
• Wow, those ten pounds sure crept back without my noticing them. Until I tried on those capris from last summer.
• Wow, that leak in the basement isn't getting better and I bet the wood is heading into rot-land.
• Wow, I'm almost out of a pretty important med and I still haven't called the doctor to admit I lost the prescription for it.
• Wow, Easter is this Sunday and I still don't have something for A to wear.
• Wow, that freelance deadline is tomorrow and it's time to put the creative juices into hyperdrive.

Lately, it's like every second of the day is filled with "wow" gulps. I like to keep things well organized and try to anticipate the unexpected by giving myself plenty of preparation and lead time. But running multiple jobs and two kids and a household means there's a lot more "to do" and a lot less time to do it. Yes, I thrive on a full agenda.

But, wow, this is getting ridiculous!