I’ve never been a fan of rising early unless it was to catch a flight to Hawaii. I was always the kid that slept in on Saturday mornings. I always waited until the last moment to get out of bed to get ready for work. I loved lying abed.
However since my mom moved in I have found the early morning, all by myself with my coffee and my tablet, is treasure for my sanity. Hubby sleeps until 8 since he gets off work at 11pm and is home by midnight. It takes him an hour or so to slow his mind and decompress so he is usually in bed by 2am.
In my morning solitude I read, feed the birds and the dogs, and listen to the early sounds of the neighborhood waking. On weekdays this includes the sounds of school buses, the garbage trucks, and people leaving for work. I imagine myself sitting on a porch beside the ocean or a mountain lake, trekking through Paris searching for a meal or stopping in a pub in Ireland for conversation and laughter.
Sometimes my mind plans home improvement ideas and the standard “if I won the lottery” schemes. Occasionally mom and Chuck are up and moving around at the same time, but there are those days that my care giving doesn’t start until 8:30 or 9am. Those are wonderful mornings.
Today is going good so far. Its cookin for hubby day. I spend time each week making meals for his lunches. Some things are old standards like mini meat loafs with peas or green beans. Today is chicken marinara with penne.
I make what would be a meal for four, then divide it into four containers. I will include in his lunch bag a container of fresh grated parmesean. With a fresh fruit, peanut butter with celery sticks or crakers, a serving of greek yogurt which is good for his belly and he is set for tonight.
Another thing he likes is an Arnold Palmer. It’s easy, just iced tea and lemonade. He takes a big glass of that to work.
I love making sure he has a good meal for his work day. I walk him to the truck when he leaves, making sure to say I love you and plant a big kiss on him.
I’m blocked! The muse has fled and left me in a puddle of no inspiration. I’ve searched through notes, tried to play with plotting, looked for images, talked it out with a few people, pretty much everything that should get the creative brain plugging on.
I’m confused about why this is dragging on.
Some of this is because of stress I’m sure. There are several things stressing out this woman. My mother living here and being responsible for her everyday care has messed with my writing schedule and space. She needs help with everything from getting her meals to showering. It’s almost as if the everyday grind of reality has squashed the fantasy world this writer lives in when the words flow.
All of my focus is her and what she needs. It’s true when they say we change places with the parent at a certain point in aging. It seems I am on-call so to speak.
Maybe I need an escape, but I’m bound here right now. Perhaps the inspiration is just on vacation.
What do you do when the cursed writers block strikes?
My mother moved into a room in my house last Saturday. She is 87, and is legally blind, has trouble with her knee, and requires a bit of supervision which she was paying for in the place she was living. It is not cheap.
Her room is a large bedroom with a handicap access bathroom. Lots of hand holds next to the toilet and in the tub. A shower chair is installed, and there is room for her to move about with her walker. It is coming together for her, and the days are slowly falling into a routine, for both of us. She has a very advanced case of macular degeneration so she does require help figuring out the remote for the television, connecting her phone to the charger, finding items in her room, and other things that are part of daily living.
I am with her 24/7, and I will admit after three days I needed some away time. Tuesday morning I took off and went to the store. All by myself. I grabbed a mocha frap with an extra espresso shot, bought six bottles of wine, and spent an hour wandering the store. It was very relaxing and once I was home my attitude was chipper!
Today I took another time to myself. A trip to Gadabout for waxing and stuff, another relaxing alone time.
This is how I will keep my sanity-having alone time. I have been known to retreat, hide out, and be in my own head to repair my psyche. I am fine on my own, alone, and exploring.
My mother is a person who requires the presence of others for conversation and not being alone. She has always been thus. She spends lots of time on the phone chatting up everyone she has a number for, and we have to make sure the filter is on – the “just because you are in the house doesn’t mean everyone needs to know our business” filter. Another thing we are working with her on is that her bedroom is a private space and we have no need or desire to know and hear what she is watching on TV, that she is in the bathroom, or changing clothes. The door must be closed!!!
This is my new normal. Fortunately my hubby is a kind and patient man.