Filling in the Blanks

This morning was my oldest’s annual Muffins for Moms day at school. We were presented with hand made art, cards and the ubiquitous silly questionnaire – you know the one. How old is your mom, what is her favorite food, what does she say all the time, etc… Hilarity typically ensues.

Earlier in the year, since Father’s Day falls outside the school calendar, the class celebrated Donuts for Dads. I self-righteously commented at the time that I bet the mom’s questionnaire wouldn’t include the “What does Dad (or in this case Mom) do at work” question. Well, how wrong I was. In fact, today’s form did include a “When Mom goes to work, she…”
Peanut’s answer?
“Nothing.”
Wow. Talk about a wake-up call. I’ve tried to explain to Peanut that when Mommy writes that’s her work. He has a hard time understanding the concept since Daddy leaves every day and goes to an office for work at a company. I also don’t do a large amount of writing in front of him, so there are fewer opportunities to reinforce the idea of writing as Mommy’s work.
What bothers me, I realized, is less that Peanut doesn’t think I work, although that is part of it – I do want my son to grow up seeing both his mother and father contributing to the household as well as to society. Rather, the part that bothered me is that if I had to answer that question, I might say that I’m a writer, but am I?
In the past year, I have decided to put more focus on my writing. The problem is that I’m the only person to hold me accountable. When it gets hard or I get busy, it’s really easy to put the writing on the back burner. The fact is I have very little to show for my “work” right now. So the “nothing” on Peanut’s questionnaire was a bit of a slap in the face. A little too much truth from the mouths of babes.
A friend told me that no matter what, I am still a writer. Being a writer is something you just are, like being a runner (her excellent analogy, not mine). But that doesn’t mean that the words write themselves. Looks like it’s time to focus more seriously on making sure I have something to fill in that blank.
In the meantime, I am enjoying the fact that Peanut said I was 25 and when it was the hubby’s turn? He was 78. Like I said, hilarity ensues.
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