Mommy, do you want to see my joints?

I think I have two of the funniest children on the planet. I know everyone thinks that about their kids, but I’m pretty sure it’s true in our case. The difference between the two is that N is more often then not unintentionally funny, ("Mommy, I wanted a Happy Meal, not a Sad meal") Whereas L has figured out funny early on and runs around intentionally making us laugh ("ptzzz-blech-pooo!! Is that a Funny noise, Mommy?!")

N and I had a delightful conversation about Monsters and Villains at lunch yesterday. It was so delightful that I actually stopped him so I could go and get my journal. The next thing I know he is seriously dictating to me the ‘facts’ he’s learned about certain Monsters and Villains. I’ll pass some of this information onto you, after all it could come in handy some day (especially if you are headed to Scotland) For instance did you know that real witches live in Scotland and have hoods and not pointed hats? The other kind of witches have pointy hats and will capture you to put in their pots of people stew. (beware travelers as they also live in Scotland.)

What does N have to say about Werewolves, you ask? Well, they also live in Scotland. Should you encounter them you’ll be able to identify them by the following: they have hair everywhere and wear pants and shirts. They also have underwear on under their pants, but you won’t be able to see that because, well it’s under their pants. The big thing to know about werewolves is that they have pointy fangs on the top teeth whereas, (and this is the big distinction apparently) King Kongs and their babies have fangs on both the tops and the bottom. I’m sure that N has plenty more knowledge to share with me but he was distracted from telling me more by the little fact that he was suddenly turning into a baby werewolf before my eyes. So, needless to say he was unable to educate me on any more villains at this time

We have so many funny conversations that my addled pre-menopausal brain cannot keep up with them. I’m pretty sure anyone walking by our house at dinner time would think Patrick and I have some serious drinking ‘problems’ due to the number of inadvertent spit takes we do.
I am grateful that my children enjoy their lives and our company right now. I hope that dinners can always be so raucous. Although some times too much laughter can lead to situations like this one:

Scene: dinner table at the Wohlmuts on a quiet sunny evening. N tells us yet another obscure animal fact about dinosaurs that can’t possibly be true which sends everyone into peals of laughter. L, wanting to get into the action, attempts to tell her own funny story but with a mouthful of food only ends up coughing and choking instead.

CA/PW: are you okay ?
L: Mmm-hmmm
CA/PW: can you speak?
L: Mmm-hmmmm
CA (slightly exasperated) Can you say your name?
L (w/perfect timing and without missing a beat) : PRINCESS.

Much laughter ensues.
And Scene.
　
　
　
　

CA 1 Inner Critique 0

Hello my faithful readers:

If you are looking for a posting on the kids, you might as well stop reading now. Today I'm writing about ME. Yes, ME the creator of this blog, the mother of those children, wife to their fabulous father and oh yes the WRITER.

So, what do I have to say about me? Just wanted to let you know what I've been up to recently. I have been feeding my soul by doing some writing that has nothing to do with my children's antics or even anything I think will delight you, my readers. Nope I am just writing...stuff. Mad scribblings in the middle of the day sequestered away in the bedroom. I ignore the persistent knocking of small hands, I take a deep breath and wait for my husband's gentle but firm reprimand, "N/L come away from that door. Mommy needs some quiet time, too." (God I love this man). Sometimes I creep out of bed to the living room on these hot nights and scribble 'brilliant' sentences that by the light of day appear to be, well average at best. But, I don't care I am writing again.

I had to fight off a big wall of writers block and an even bigger assault from the inner critique--man she's a bitch. I finally found it's just easier to let the bitch have her say. I sometimes go ahead and let her interrupt my work let her just spew all over the pages all the while I am secretly laughing at her, "silly bitch I'm writing down everything you say and turning it in to prose! Ha ha take that bitch!" Some might say it would be best to ignore her. Problem is, this inner critique was born of something outside of my and planted in my very soul when I was very very young. I have been trying to silence her for over 30 years - since I first discovered the joy of writing. So, I think now maybe I just let her have her say, sooner or later she'll tire out. Sooner or later She's going to see what I have to say is going to be worth all the blood sweat and tears. And tears there will be...

If I were a painter I would paint a glorious battle scene with angels and demons duking it out in a field of scattered memories and hearts. The angels would have the faces of all those teachers, friends, family, lovers, dreamers, writers etc who had inspired/believed in me along the way. And of course the littlest angel, with the biggest heart would be me. The demons would have variations on one face....

I've not been taking this journey alone. I've got the 'hand' of an old friend, Natalie Goldberg, and her book "Old Friend from Far Away" are gently nudging me along. Sometimes going back to the basics is the best way to begin again, I had forgotten that part of the puzzle. I forgot that I like to work the edges of the story first before diving into the middle pieces. It's all coming back to me piece by piece. I think this puzzle is going to take up the whole kitchen table and more, but I think I'm up to the challenge this time.

So, that's where I am. Oh, and don't you fret I'll be posting new antics of the Wee Wohlmut's soon. With quotes like, " I wanted a Happy Meal, not a Sad Meal" and "Can we brush our teeth now? Oh fank you! fank you!" I'm hardly wanting for material.

xxo CAW

MISS L SAYS, "don't bother Mama, she's writing"