I Am Writing

I’ve been teasing my son all day that he looks like a banana in his yellow t-shirt and yellow shorts.Ā  Such combinations are his idea of matching. He is lying across from me on our old beat-up blue couch, spending quiet time with his nose deep in the Chronicles of Narnia. He wiggles a lot.

My house is quiet, except for his quiet wiggle-noises, the occasional movement from upstairs where his brother is decidedly not napping, the tap of my keyboard.

I am writing.

My living room is a mess of baby toys and discarded couch pillows, and the dog is flopped in her doggy bed without a care in the world. The coffee mug on the little table to my left is nearly empty, and my feet, propped up on the ottoman, are visible beyond my laptop screen and clearly in need of a pedicure.

My to-do list is long. The dryer just buzzed; it’s laundry day. The peaches in my fridge, nearly gone bad, need someone to peel and pit and slice them and put them in a crust for dessert tonight. I haven’t even written my shopping list for the trip to the store that awaits me after naptime.

But I am writing.

I have discovered that I never have a perfect time to write. Always I am distracted; always my list is long; always someone is wiggling or something is buzzing. So sometimes I just choose to write, here in my big blue armchair, in spite of everything.

I don’t write much by hand anymore. Sometimes, in a fit of inspiration at work or church or in bed at night I’ll drag out a notebook or a scrap of paper and a pen. But usually my writing is really typing. My hands hurt, with their swollen, stiff knuckles. Some days holding a pen requires great creativity. But I can’t stop writing, so my laptop keyboard becomes my pen.

I can’t stop writing, you see. I don’t know why, because I don’t envision a career in writing. I don’t see worldwide fame, or even local fame, in my future. I put my words out there, and a few people read them, and even fewer people comment, and sometimes I get discouraged by the lack of readers, but still I write. I have always written.

I found my diary from childhood not so long ago. I was my banana-clad son’s age when I started writing in it. The pencil scrawlings are brief, noting that I went to school that day, or dressed my doll in her blue dress. A few years later my diary was pink with a heart on it, and it includes musing about boys and friends and my sister. I had to write in it, just like I had to write fairy tales and short stories in my notebook.

I have to write now, too, and as much as I would love for you to comment and say you see me, I will keep writing even if you don’t. Writing is a part of me just like my elbows or my eardrums.

My husband has just given me a kiss, and the dryer waits downstairs to be emptied and filled again. The dog has shifted position; my coffee is cold; and my banana-boy has taken a bathroom break. Cars driving by outside the curtained windows sing a song of rain and puddles, and my other son plays percussion with his feet from his upstairs bedroom. The baby still sleeps, and I still need a pedicure.

I am writing.

Written for On, In and Around Mondays at Seedlings in Stone.


15 thoughts on “I Am Writing

  1. I’ve taken to carrying around a small notebook. It usually tags along, unneeded. But every once in a while, it throws itself open and I write.

    Good post, Erin.

  2. my sister pointed out to me recently that she thinks my love language is “words.” she is right. i value words- spoken, written, sung.

    i’ve got nearly 30 journals (“journeys” as my daughter emilie refers to them) filled with words. my earliest one is a holly hobby diary, i think i was 8 when i began writing in it.

    i always love your words erin. keep writing.

  3. Erin,

    I just want you to know that both Jon and I think you are an awesome (pardon the junior highish word) writer. You have given us so many nights of laughter when we’ve really needed them. And recently I am spiritually encouraged in my own life as you talk about changes you and Art are making in your family. And how God is/has been working through your homeschool journey. Don’t stop writing and don’t ever think you don’t have listeners – we really enjoy it! april

  4. Oh, I love this story! Our similarities today are striking, indeed (from the son to the laundry to the cold coffee). And yes, yes, the peaches, those and an entire cooler-full of cherries await me for peeling and pitting and freezing.

    But this writing (and reading) are important too.


  5. I enjoy reading your words although I don’t always comment. I glad you like to write, for me it is a chore. I struggle to find the right words and to make it interesting. I often wonder if any one reads my blog, but then I don’t really care I’m not doing it for anyone but myself. I want to remember.

  6. I see you! Can’t wait to REALLY see you though in a few days. Not much writing will happen then. Gonna keep you too busy. šŸ˜‰

  7. This really is a ‘delight’! And please, keep on writing for in your writing you capture all that is true about… writing where ever you are.

    And, your words are delightful!

  8. And I, for one, am reading. I know just what you mean about being compelled to write. Sometimes life and thought just have to get from from your fingertips!

  9. This really rang true for me. Writing is “as true as my ears and elbows”, and although it would be great having a list of comments when I log in, I will write on even if I don’t.

    I get it. I get it. Continue on!

  10. Oh oh I love this, it’s simply divine! And yes, me too — I am writing…even though dust bunnies are rearing up, gathering forces beneath the couch…I think they are planning a coup. And yes, there is a load of wet laundry in the washer, crying to be thrown in the dryer. But I am writing!

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