Short story

I read a great article yesterday by Catherine Deveny called “Do the write thing”. It was as though she had picked up the phone, dialled my number and was speaking directly to me. To sum it up – it is about writing or more to the point – about all of the things we do to avoid writing. Catherine writes… “Most poeple die with their dreams still inside them. Do you want to stop punishing yourself and punch through that fear of failure and additiction to procrastination? Simple answer? Do it. Which is hard, because procrastination is crack for writers. It won’t be easy but I promise it will be worth it. ”

I really am determined that this blog not be just a series of interesting, maybe even witty, accounts of all the reasons I can’t seem to write anything. I think that would get pretty boring for me let alone the one, maybe two other people on the planet who are reading this.

So here is a piece of writing I did a little while ago to get me started. Hope you enjoy.

“MUUUUmmmmmmmmmm” Even though it is 4am and I am pretty sure that I was sound asleep, most likely dreaming about what it would be like to have an entire night of uninterrupted sleep, this horrendous cry has me out of bed and into my 5 year old daughters room before my eyes are even fully open.

“I feel sick”, she cries. And without another word, just a way too familiar heaving sound and out it comes. I will save you the unpleasant details about exactly ‘what’ came out but I’m sure you get the picture. Without even thinking, I cup my hands together and with the precision one would expect from decades of practice, she throws up directly into them. Surprisingly, I am pretty impressed with myself – good catch I think.

I called out to my husband to bring me a bucket but it is almost impossible to wake him in the middle of the night (he has no problem getting a full night’s sleep!). The very loud screech that follows my first desparate call does the job and finally he appears at the door to see me, trying very hard not to lose any of my ‘catch’ onto the bed.

It was in that moment that I learned the true meaning of motherhood. Because in THAT moment, without thinking, I knew that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to avoid having to strip beds and wash sheets and doona’s that night.

And would I do it again you might ask. Absolutely!!

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