We don't talk about what Mommy writes ...

(I'm on vacation, so this post was pre-written and scheduled in blogger to post. I will respond to your comments on the 8th of Jan, when I get back in town.)

And this little piggy went "weeee, oh yeah baby, do me harder ... um ... I mean wee, wee, wee all the way home".

Yeah. So, my daughter knows that I write. She has no clue however just what I write. She often asks to read my stories, generally after she has me read hers. I just hope that when she is old enough to read my stories, she can look me in the eyes afterwards.

LOL

I love writing erotica and erotic romance. I really truly do, and I can't imagine writing anything else. But it is hell on conversations. My daughter is so proud that I am published that she wants to tell everyone, but she can't, and she knows she can't, just not why. (Hubby has the same problem, but he knows why)

It's hard for me too, especially since I want to tell people that I write, but it's a hard subject to approach. I know some would worry about the influence I am having on my child. Some would feel that I am not a good parent.

What's worse, I am going to be a teacher. So instead of just my child, I could be influencing the minds of hundreds of children to my filthy ways! Yeah ... what I write is practically a state's secret, with an inner sanctum in the know and everyone else shut out.

It's hard to to get that quiet time to write. My family has been very supportive of my writing, but at the same time, it's isn't something I really feel comfortable doing while my daughter is hanging over my should, which she likes to do when I am at the computer. Generally because she wants to borrow my comuter to play her games online, or because she hangs over my hubby's shoulder to watch him play his games and trys to do the same with me during my computer time.

She is also interested in writing, so I walk a very fine line between encouraging her and having to shut her out of my own world, because of what I write.

It's also hard to talk to my crit partner on the phone when my daughter is at home. Working out some scenes is just not conductive to having pre-teen ears in the room.

So I find that I tailor my day, and my writing, around my daughter's day. I tend to write in the evenings when she is settling in for the night, when she is outside playing, or between my college classes while she is in school. I go into my bedroom with a notepad and pen and call my crit partner. And, yes, I have even flat out told her I have a story idea and I need her to go away for a while. She generally cooperates. As I said, my family has been very supportive.

I write more in the winter because I just feel more comfortable. I can't stand doing much of anything creative when I get too hot, so most of summer is a lost cause even with air conditioning. Winter however, is when she is stuck inside more often. So there has to be a balance achieved of "me" writing time, and "her" family time.

I admit, it would certainly be easier if I didn't have my daughter, then I could write whenever I wanted, without worry. I could crow about my publications, and not worry about how it will affect her if it gets out. Despite that, I wouldn't wish my life any other way. She's part of the reason I get my ass out of bed in the morning. She's part of why I am struggling to get through college, instead of just settling for an easy job with flexible hours that will let me have more time to write.

All in all, I wouldn't give up either my munchkin, or my writing, but damn, I wish it was easier to blend both parts of my life. Certainly, I wish society would take a frickin chill about erotic romance and erotica, and understand the difference between writing it as a passtime and sharing it with all the neighborhood kids. I hate having to keep what I do in the shadows, because I love writing, and I am proud of my accomlishments. But at the same time, I don't want to have my daughter have a hard time finding kids to play with, and I don't want to catch crap when I am teaching.

And if it came down to it, could I give up writing? I really don't know. I might hold off on publishing anything for a while, let her turn 18 and then say to hell with the close-minded of the world. But would I ever give it up completely? I really don't think that I could.

Probably not quite what was targeted for this week, but hey, I wrote this up on Christmas Eve. LOL

Thoughts?

Interview With a Vampire-Loving Six Year Old

By Devon Rhodes (with help from Sarah and Elizabeth)

ME:  Do you want to come upstairs so I can interview you?

S: What's an interview?

Me:  That's where I ask you questions, and you answer them, and I type the answers into the computer.

S: Sure! Besides, I have this (movie) on tape! So you're writing a story about me?

Me: Not exactly.  It's for work.

S: (dejectedly) Okay. (Then whimpers, pretending she can't reach the ground until I hand her some ladybug markers)

Me: Okay, so how long has Mama been writing?

S: A year? (pretty close, good girl!)

Me: What do you think Mama writes?

S: Love stories? And Mommy, if I don't remember, can I say "pass" to the next question?

Me: Of course! What do you think about Mommy writing?

S: Pass!

Me: Has Mommy ever written anything for you?

S: (disgustedly) No! You promised me you were going to write a vampire story for Halloween for me but you never did. I want my vampire story! (dramatic sigh) I guess I'll wait until next Halloween.

E: (panting and whimpering, then sitting up and begging)

Me: Do you want a Scooby snack?

E: (smiling and panting)

I hand-feed her a piece of my bagel then pat her on the head and say "Good doggy."  (Don't ask.)

S: Can I have some of your bagel too? (taking the entire remaining half)

Me: (sigh) Go ahead. What kind of stories do you like?

S: Pass.

Me: Okay, what's your favorite book so far that you've read?

S: Harry Potter 2.

Me: Is that the Chamber Of Secrets?

S: Yep. Do you want to ask my favorite ice cream?

Me: Uh, sure.

S: Cookie Dough! Can we make omelets now?

Me: No, Mommy's working, maybe in a few minutes.

S: (wrinkles nose at me) I'm hungry!

Me: Go cut yourself some orange cheese, or peel one of those little oranges. Are you done being interviewed?

S: Can I tell them about my boyfriend?

Me: You're only six; He's not really your boyfriend.

S: (stamps her foot) Yes, he is! Duh! He's been my boyfriend for three years now. And I'll be seven in a couple weeks! (Rolls her eyes like a pro and stomps off.)

E: (reappears in her pumpkin costume) Ta-da!

Me: Are you a pumpkin?

E: No! I a Merry Christmas, Sarah!

Me: I'm not Sarah, I'm Mommy!

E: (switches topics since I have her beat) I hungry!

Me: Here's a cracker.

E: NO! I want orange cheese! (must've seen her sister get some cheddar)

Me: (calling out) Sarah! Cut your sister some orange cheese. (To E) Your sissy will cut you some.

Overheard after Elizabeth returns downstairs:

S: How about a bagel?

E: No, orange cheese!

S: Here's a baaaagel!

E: NO!  Orange cheese, silly!

Etc.

***********

This goes on most of the day, and can get even more convoluted and distracting when my hub's around to chime in.  Which is why I do most of my writing in the late evening and nighttime when all three are in bed. I find my insomnia a blessing now, and last night (not untypically) I was up writing until after 3am.

There are a few home truths which even the three year old has learned in the past year or so:

1. Mommy is not a problem solver until she has coffee.
2. (Directed at hub) Do not steal Mommy's laptop unless you want to be subjected to heavy sighs and dramatic eye rolls accompanied by slamming objects around until she gets it back. (I'm passive-aggressive that way) And I'm buying my own damn laptop on January 2nd.
3. When the laptop is open, Mommy has left the building.

I like to think I'm a good mom, and I also have to say that since I don't work outside the home, I'm constantly around for the kids.  Even when I get involved in what I'm doing, I CAN be interrupted for important reasons (like someone's hungry, hurt, or wandering around when they should be in bed). And they had my undivided attention up until last spring, so that (partially) alleviates the guilt I feel when they have to ask me something ten times before a question registers, or I come downstairs to find all the red peppers in the fridge with big bites taken out of them (the three year old is a forager).

I unwrap the string cheese that my three year old brings me without delay.

I still manage to get most of the laundry and dinner done on time.

I've only gotten Sarah to dance class late once because I was wrapped up in a story.

I can carry off the automatic observation of "That's nice!" in response to whatever is shown me (except for a boom, ie a boo-boo, although occasionally I trot it out by mistake, prompting an affronted display worthy of a Broadway show). And I catch the muttered words "in the black hole", which is how my hub refers to me being on the laptop, often enough that I think my passive-aggressiveness is wearing off on him.

My new career is not without family conflicts, and here's where I'll gloss over the details. But I like to think that I'm giving my kids my whole, "real" self now that I'm doing what I love, and hopefully someday they will understand why.

Why I do what I do.

Why I sometimes put something intangible "first".

And why, when you boil it down, every single thing I do is still for them.