The fireplace looks lively with bright orange flames.
I have a hot bag under my feet. Really hot. To prevent accidental burning of toes I have 4 socks on each foot.
I'm wearing a jacket and I have a blanket over my legs.
By my side I have not one but two smoking cups of tea.
Leaning against my leg there is a warm dog sleeping.
I'd say I'm well prepared for a cold night.
Friday, November 4, 2011
From Apple's journal #62
*Apple climbs into bed after putting Chance and Roderick in their cribs.
She doesn't bother taking off her clothes, collapsing in the oversize
bed with a sigh of relief.
With her head buried in the pillow she can still hear Andrew finishing up the story he was reading the rest of the kids.
He always deviated from the books. The story could start off by being the little red ridding hood but by the second page he read ridding hood was in fact a ninja and the wolf kept the forest safe for the little animals and chase off any hunters that might come along with the help of a butterfly fairy and a retired pirate.
The funniest part is that he still would turn the pages of the book like he was actually reading.
She smiled as she heard him finish Beauty and the Beast with a "and then Belle and the prince that has no name so it must be Voldemort in disguise went to a furry convention on a cruise to the Bahamas all the rats in their castle lived happily ever after because they left Cinderella taking care of the place".
Those kids would be disappointed when they actually read the real stories by themselves and would beg him to tell his version of it again and again.
Then she heard him putting them to bed. One by one.
Each had his own ritual.
He would tuck Owen and ask if that night he wanted the light on or off. Off, please. Goodnight buddy. Good night dad.
He would twirl Ruby around to her bed, turn on her ballerina music box and tell her to be careful with the pirouettes in her dreams as he kissed her nose.
He would arrange the 12 stuffed animals around Scarlet in her bed and make sure there was some crumbles in a plate by the window for the cookie fairy. Then he would kiss her cheeks and her forehead and whisper "sweet dreams, cookie monster".
Finally he would put down Wolf in his bed, ruffle his hair and pull gently at his ears as the child pulled at his. He would turn on the night light and the mobile on top on the bed and tell him to have fun being naughty in his dreams so that he could be a good boy in the morning.
Apple listened carefully, already knowing the words he was saying by heart and turned around in the big bed, waiting for him to come through the door.*
Come here. With all that's been going on I miss you.
I want you to put me to bed as well.
I don't need a story. I just need your lips on mine and your arms around me.
With her head buried in the pillow she can still hear Andrew finishing up the story he was reading the rest of the kids.
He always deviated from the books. The story could start off by being the little red ridding hood but by the second page he read ridding hood was in fact a ninja and the wolf kept the forest safe for the little animals and chase off any hunters that might come along with the help of a butterfly fairy and a retired pirate.
The funniest part is that he still would turn the pages of the book like he was actually reading.
She smiled as she heard him finish Beauty and the Beast with a "and then Belle and the prince that has no name so it must be Voldemort in disguise went to a furry convention on a cruise to the Bahamas all the rats in their castle lived happily ever after because they left Cinderella taking care of the place".
Those kids would be disappointed when they actually read the real stories by themselves and would beg him to tell his version of it again and again.
Then she heard him putting them to bed. One by one.
Each had his own ritual.
He would tuck Owen and ask if that night he wanted the light on or off. Off, please. Goodnight buddy. Good night dad.
He would twirl Ruby around to her bed, turn on her ballerina music box and tell her to be careful with the pirouettes in her dreams as he kissed her nose.
He would arrange the 12 stuffed animals around Scarlet in her bed and make sure there was some crumbles in a plate by the window for the cookie fairy. Then he would kiss her cheeks and her forehead and whisper "sweet dreams, cookie monster".
Finally he would put down Wolf in his bed, ruffle his hair and pull gently at his ears as the child pulled at his. He would turn on the night light and the mobile on top on the bed and tell him to have fun being naughty in his dreams so that he could be a good boy in the morning.
Apple listened carefully, already knowing the words he was saying by heart and turned around in the big bed, waiting for him to come through the door.*
Come here. With all that's been going on I miss you.
I want you to put me to bed as well.
I don't need a story. I just need your lips on mine and your arms around me.
From Apple's journal #61
Owen is 9 already.
My little man is not so little anymore.
He still daydreams about fire trucks and he still covers the living room with blankets while building his forts but he does not sleep with the light on anymore and he gets ready by himself, choosing his own outfit and taking care of his hair.
Sometimes I can see a glimpse of the man he'll grow up to be in the tenderness he shows his little sisters when they stretch his patience or in the way he helps Wolf when he falls down.
All my children have their strengths... their "special powers". Owen's is definitely his ability to care for others. His kindness and attention. He is the perfect big brother and he embraces his role whole heartedly.
I'm so proud of him and of what he has became and if I do feel a sting of pain for seeing him grow up so fast I must also admit that I can't wait to meet the grown-up version of him.
My little man is not so little anymore.
He still daydreams about fire trucks and he still covers the living room with blankets while building his forts but he does not sleep with the light on anymore and he gets ready by himself, choosing his own outfit and taking care of his hair.
Sometimes I can see a glimpse of the man he'll grow up to be in the tenderness he shows his little sisters when they stretch his patience or in the way he helps Wolf when he falls down.
All my children have their strengths... their "special powers". Owen's is definitely his ability to care for others. His kindness and attention. He is the perfect big brother and he embraces his role whole heartedly.
I'm so proud of him and of what he has became and if I do feel a sting of pain for seeing him grow up so fast I must also admit that I can't wait to meet the grown-up version of him.
From Apple's journal #60
Chance is the happiest baby I have.
She giggles, she laughs, she chortles, she chuckles, she grins. She spends most of her time with huge smile plastered on her face, drooling happily.
She is also the fussiest baby I have.
She refuses to sleep longer than 2 hours, she doesn't eat as much as I would like her to and when she is not dazzling the world with her brilliant good mood she howls, she cries like she is being tortured. Luckily these moments are very short lived... but they are intense and frequent.
She's a master at keeping me from doing anything else so things around the house have been getting kind of sloppy.
Today, for example, I realised that the only clean shirt I had for Roderick was a rather inappropriate one.
I put it on thinking "oh who cares, he can't read it anyway".
I'm tired and my brain a bit sluggish so it took me a few seconds to catch up to reality and understand why the hell was Owen (who can read perfectly) asking me what a blow job was.
I looked at him blankly, hoping I misunderstood what he asked.
He pointed at the babbling baby on my arms and read: " All daddy wanted was a blowjob", then he looked at me and continued: "what's a blowjob mommy?".
I need to go do some laundry. NOW.
She giggles, she laughs, she chortles, she chuckles, she grins. She spends most of her time with huge smile plastered on her face, drooling happily.
She is also the fussiest baby I have.
She refuses to sleep longer than 2 hours, she doesn't eat as much as I would like her to and when she is not dazzling the world with her brilliant good mood she howls, she cries like she is being tortured. Luckily these moments are very short lived... but they are intense and frequent.
She's a master at keeping me from doing anything else so things around the house have been getting kind of sloppy.
Today, for example, I realised that the only clean shirt I had for Roderick was a rather inappropriate one.
I put it on thinking "oh who cares, he can't read it anyway".
I'm tired and my brain a bit sluggish so it took me a few seconds to catch up to reality and understand why the hell was Owen (who can read perfectly) asking me what a blow job was.
I looked at him blankly, hoping I misunderstood what he asked.
He pointed at the babbling baby on my arms and read: " All daddy wanted was a blowjob", then he looked at me and continued: "what's a blowjob mommy?".
I need to go do some laundry. NOW.
From Apple's journal #59
When Ruby was born there were some complications and I was unconscious for the whole thing.
When Scarlet was born I was scared out of my mind.
When Wolf was born I was nervous and a bit heartbroken because Andrew could not be there with me.
When Roderick was born I thought I had no one to take care of my children while I was in the hospital and Andrew didn't make it in time but I was calm and things went smoothly.
Now, with Chance, I had a nanny for my kids that kept bringing me the drawings they were making for me and that made the whole thing into an adventure for them *and* I had Andrew holding my hand all the time.
It was a walk in the park. Nice doctors, nice nurses, plenty of conversation and laughs.
The hours flew by and in a heartbeat I had a beautiful baby girl in my arms and I was ready to go home.
Andrew, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have a heart attack the whole time.
It was his first time and he kept fluffing my pillows, bringing me ice chips. "Do you want anything?" "Do you need anything?" "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Between contractions I looked at him and laughed... I could not help it. He was white as a ghost, his hands were shaking and his voice cracked when he said "good job muffin".
The nurses kept making jokes " oh poor thing... after this he won't be making you any more babies, Apple!".
He must have asked me if I was okay a thousand times.
When it was time to push I think he would have collapsed on the floor if he was not so concentrated in helping me. I don't think anything could have ripped him away from me at that time. If the floor beneath his feet disappeared he would have learn how to float to keep holding my hand.
And when the nurse put Chance in his arms, I'm sorry to say it this way but there is no other way to describe it : he cried like a little bitch. And I love him even more for it.
When Scarlet was born I was scared out of my mind.
When Wolf was born I was nervous and a bit heartbroken because Andrew could not be there with me.
When Roderick was born I thought I had no one to take care of my children while I was in the hospital and Andrew didn't make it in time but I was calm and things went smoothly.
Now, with Chance, I had a nanny for my kids that kept bringing me the drawings they were making for me and that made the whole thing into an adventure for them *and* I had Andrew holding my hand all the time.
It was a walk in the park. Nice doctors, nice nurses, plenty of conversation and laughs.
The hours flew by and in a heartbeat I had a beautiful baby girl in my arms and I was ready to go home.
Andrew, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have a heart attack the whole time.
It was his first time and he kept fluffing my pillows, bringing me ice chips. "Do you want anything?" "Do you need anything?" "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Between contractions I looked at him and laughed... I could not help it. He was white as a ghost, his hands were shaking and his voice cracked when he said "good job muffin".
The nurses kept making jokes " oh poor thing... after this he won't be making you any more babies, Apple!".
He must have asked me if I was okay a thousand times.
When it was time to push I think he would have collapsed on the floor if he was not so concentrated in helping me. I don't think anything could have ripped him away from me at that time. If the floor beneath his feet disappeared he would have learn how to float to keep holding my hand.
And when the nurse put Chance in his arms, I'm sorry to say it this way but there is no other way to describe it : he cried like a little bitch. And I love him even more for it.
From Apple's journal #58
Today was one of those perfect days.
Total bliss.
B is for Beauty
Waking up to a beautiful sunrise. The trees outside are starting to bloom and Nature is taking on it's colours again.
Went to wake the kids and Owen was already up, playing with Wolf. Walking in on them laughing as Owen tickled his little brother.
In the bathroom Ruby was tying Scarlet's hair with a red ribbon while the two of them talked about their kittens.
Walking into the kitchen and there was Andrew, pouring cereals into bowls with one hand, bouncing a smiling Roderick with the other.
L is for Love
Hearing Andrew shout: "kids, mom's up!" and hear them flock to the kitchen and give me good morning kisses.
Being handed a babbling baby by my husband as he pulls a chair for me and kisses my shoulder before pouring me a glass of orange juice.
Not being able to stop smiling because I could not imagine my life being more perfect.
I is for Intimacy
Andrew telling me that we were going out for a breakfast date as soon as Willow got here and whispering in my ear that he missed having me all for himself.
Feeling him getting into the shower behind me and stand under the warm water with his arms around me and talk about those little nothings that make us laugh.
S is for Secret
Sneaking out of the house to avoid disturbing the children busy with their homework.
Running outside giggling like kids and kissing in the middle of the street with the sun on our faces.
Sharing a delicious breakfast on a hidden spot, away from the world while making plans that belong only to us.
S is for Serenity
Falling asleep in Andrew's arms in the fading afternoon with Wolf curled up in my lap and Scarlet's head resting on my leg as the rest of the children watch The Lion King.
I'm going to be cheesy and say it: today was a fairytale .
Total bliss.
B is for Beauty
Waking up to a beautiful sunrise. The trees outside are starting to bloom and Nature is taking on it's colours again.
Went to wake the kids and Owen was already up, playing with Wolf. Walking in on them laughing as Owen tickled his little brother.
In the bathroom Ruby was tying Scarlet's hair with a red ribbon while the two of them talked about their kittens.
Walking into the kitchen and there was Andrew, pouring cereals into bowls with one hand, bouncing a smiling Roderick with the other.
L is for Love
Hearing Andrew shout: "kids, mom's up!" and hear them flock to the kitchen and give me good morning kisses.
Being handed a babbling baby by my husband as he pulls a chair for me and kisses my shoulder before pouring me a glass of orange juice.
Not being able to stop smiling because I could not imagine my life being more perfect.
I is for Intimacy
Andrew telling me that we were going out for a breakfast date as soon as Willow got here and whispering in my ear that he missed having me all for himself.
Feeling him getting into the shower behind me and stand under the warm water with his arms around me and talk about those little nothings that make us laugh.
S is for Secret
Sneaking out of the house to avoid disturbing the children busy with their homework.
Running outside giggling like kids and kissing in the middle of the street with the sun on our faces.
Sharing a delicious breakfast on a hidden spot, away from the world while making plans that belong only to us.
S is for Serenity
Falling asleep in Andrew's arms in the fading afternoon with Wolf curled up in my lap and Scarlet's head resting on my leg as the rest of the children watch The Lion King.
I'm going to be cheesy and say it: today was a fairytale .
From Apple's journal #57
First day of school for my children and I already want to bite someone.
Can you believe that some stupid kid pushed Ruby to the ground?
She came home with a nasty cut on her knee and crying about how she doesn't want to school any more.
I swear if I find who did it we are going to have a looong conversation. What kind of parents raises someone that hits weaker children?
What kind of example does that child have at home to behave like that?
Maybe the parents just don't care...
Maybe there are no parents and that child lives alone.
Maybe there is a lonely child out there, somewhere, just acting out, waiting to be noticed, to have someone who will take care of her/him.
...
Wait.
How did I get to the "by kobe, I want to adopt that child and show her/him a better world" so fast???
Can you believe that some stupid kid pushed Ruby to the ground?
She came home with a nasty cut on her knee and crying about how she doesn't want to school any more.
I swear if I find who did it we are going to have a looong conversation. What kind of parents raises someone that hits weaker children?
What kind of example does that child have at home to behave like that?
Maybe the parents just don't care...
Maybe there are no parents and that child lives alone.
Maybe there is a lonely child out there, somewhere, just acting out, waiting to be noticed, to have someone who will take care of her/him.
...
Wait.
How did I get to the "by kobe, I want to adopt that child and show her/him a better world" so fast???
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Guess what
Guess what I haven't been doing this night.
That's right: sleeping.
I have however been scribbling, doodling and typing.
5086 words are already down and I'm stepping away from the computer right now because this is, as I suspected, immensely life consuming.
I already have maps and clumps of words that only make sense in my head and stuff scratched and written again and scratched again. I'm going to be eaten alive.. I just know it.
This was not a good idea. I always knew that the day I started giving them permission to come to life my life would not be my own anymore.
And I'm already stressing out because I have to kill someone's mother. I keep telling myself that the lady is already kind of old and that it was her time but part of me is still going on about how I'm the creator of the universe and that I could save her.
Illusions of grandeur give me a great deal of guilt trips.
And I have to learn about ships and wine. I don't know anything about ships and wine. Why couldn't they make cookies and travel by bicycle?
And I have to make a map of two whole worlds so I don't get lost.
How am I ever going to be able to turn out my brain?
That's right: sleeping.
I have however been scribbling, doodling and typing.
5086 words are already down and I'm stepping away from the computer right now because this is, as I suspected, immensely life consuming.
I already have maps and clumps of words that only make sense in my head and stuff scratched and written again and scratched again. I'm going to be eaten alive.. I just know it.
This was not a good idea. I always knew that the day I started giving them permission to come to life my life would not be my own anymore.
And I'm already stressing out because I have to kill someone's mother. I keep telling myself that the lady is already kind of old and that it was her time but part of me is still going on about how I'm the creator of the universe and that I could save her.
Illusions of grandeur give me a great deal of guilt trips.
And I have to learn about ships and wine. I don't know anything about ships and wine. Why couldn't they make cookies and travel by bicycle?
And I have to make a map of two whole worlds so I don't get lost.
How am I ever going to be able to turn out my brain?
Making up my mind
I decided to join the Nanowrimo movement but I can't make up my mind.
I have 5 stories, 5 different worlds and they are all fighting with each other to see who gets to be written.
I also have all those little people living inside my head complaining that if I'm going to write 50000 words of anything in a month I should write about them, They have stuff to do, places to go, kids to raise and homework that should have been done last week.
I keep jumping from one thing to another and I can't concentrate because when I think I finally chose one all the other revolt against me and make it impossible for me to write whatever I was going to.
I don't know how those people who write books for a living manage to do it. How do they deal with having that much people claiming their attention and be able to get something done?
And if it's bad now it will get worst because the more attention I give to an idea, a character or a voice be more greedy it becomes.
It grows in size and in volume and pretty soon I can't even think properly with all the noise in my head.
So I decided I'm not going to chose one. I will not pick favorites and everyone will have to share my time.
I will keep the goal: 50000 words in a month but I will not be pouring them all into a novel. I will be writing them all at the same time and try not to go completely mad at the same time.
Since this decision I was able to stop opening and closing open office documents without writing a single line and actually write 3000 words. 3115 to be exact.
I will not end the month of November with a novel but I will write and I'll actually start putting on paper the stories that I've been daydreaming about but never got around to actually write them.
I'll probably be consumed by my characters before the 15th.
And I'm really afraid they won't let me sleep.
And this is a really bad month to do this because I just discovered minecraft and I'm kind of addicted to it.
Ahhh.. chaotic and impossible, just the way I like it!
I have 5 stories, 5 different worlds and they are all fighting with each other to see who gets to be written.
I also have all those little people living inside my head complaining that if I'm going to write 50000 words of anything in a month I should write about them, They have stuff to do, places to go, kids to raise and homework that should have been done last week.
I keep jumping from one thing to another and I can't concentrate because when I think I finally chose one all the other revolt against me and make it impossible for me to write whatever I was going to.
I don't know how those people who write books for a living manage to do it. How do they deal with having that much people claiming their attention and be able to get something done?
And if it's bad now it will get worst because the more attention I give to an idea, a character or a voice be more greedy it becomes.
It grows in size and in volume and pretty soon I can't even think properly with all the noise in my head.
So I decided I'm not going to chose one. I will not pick favorites and everyone will have to share my time.
I will keep the goal: 50000 words in a month but I will not be pouring them all into a novel. I will be writing them all at the same time and try not to go completely mad at the same time.
Since this decision I was able to stop opening and closing open office documents without writing a single line and actually write 3000 words. 3115 to be exact.
I will not end the month of November with a novel but I will write and I'll actually start putting on paper the stories that I've been daydreaming about but never got around to actually write them.
I'll probably be consumed by my characters before the 15th.
And I'm really afraid they won't let me sleep.
And this is a really bad month to do this because I just discovered minecraft and I'm kind of addicted to it.
Ahhh.. chaotic and impossible, just the way I like it!
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