As I'm doing math homework (gag), Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back is playing while my four-year-old watches it for the billionth time. Not only do I have to skip every Yoda scene (lacking any understanding as to why she has a disliking for the green alien) but needing to lay out the dozens of action figures I collected when I was a teenager (cause I'm that much of a nerd). Of course, she has her favorites, and usually only picks those, sticking them in my old Millennium Falcon and swooshing it around. This image I'll forever have ingrained into my mind, and it makes me so incredibly happy. The simple, lazy days we spend together. The little things, like baby laughing at me while speed-crawling into the bathroom (which she knows is a no-no) or smothering me with slobbery open-mouthed baby kisses. I love it!
Something I read earlier in the day got me to thinking. What do I do other than immerse myself in my writing (uh, when I can), to live a rounded life? Well, with kids and school, you can't get much rounder, but they definitely keep things interesting. So that's pretty much what I do when I'm not writing: play Star Wars, color, build Leggos, play at the park, run errands, take kid to dance, do homework, clean house, cook, homeschool, read . . . nothing in any particular order. Sure, I'd love to go scuba diving, sky diving, rock climbing, travel to Europe, explore historical American cities, lay on a beach and do nothing, go on a shopping spree . . . but these things will just have to wait until I can do it without young children (whether it actually be without them or with them when they're old enough). Of course, husband would be dragged along, too.
For now, I can just live vicariously through my characters.