Ups and Downs by Vivienne Lynge

Good Morning!  Vivienne Lynge here.  Happy Saturday.  I’ve had a week of ups and downs. Some pretty high ups and some pretty low downs.  Ok, well, now that I’ve typed that, I guess my lows weren’t really that bad, certainly when compared with people who are living through serious problems like death, illness or stuff like that, but when measured on my blessedly even-keeled life, there was turmoil!

The lowest point of the week came on Tuesday, the first day of summer vacation.  I love my kiddos, but they are a handful.  During one FB vent this week, a friend turned me on to Glennon Melton.  If you have young children and worry that there’s something wrong with you because all you really want out of life is a couple of days of peace and quiet, quite possibly where you are not required to prepare food or clean anything, then you need to read this article.  I love my children, but the first day, The FIRST DAY! of summer vacation ended with me making a calendar that counts down the remaining days until school starts in September.  Seriously.  65.  Sigh. 

Tuesday was not a gold-star mommy day.  Not only did I drop the f-bomb on one of my kids, something I’m very much against, I did it while naked, dripping and covered in soap and shampoo.  My 5 minute shower was just too long for the angry horde and immediate mediation was required of me.  I was not happy.  Neither was Princess Second Grader.  I should probably start saving now for the future therapy bills.

But we lived through the week (yippeeee!) and have enough planned that I imagine we’ll live through next week too. 

On a high note, I’ve managed to clean 5 rooms this week.  My goal for these two weeks between school and the start of summer camp was to clean the house.  Rein in the clutter and general what-not that has clouded up Casa Lynge with its noxiousness.  I have trouble working in high amounts of icky.  Moderate ickiness is fine – but when things reach a certain threshold, all creativity is sucked out of me, along with the ability to accomplish anything other than burying my head in a good book. 

Beginning July 8th, I need to bury my head in Sometimes, my WIP.  I’m going to write 45,000 words in 3 weeks.  That’s how much time I have whilst the kiddos are all at camp and 45k will get me to the so-exciting-it-almost-writes-itself part of the book.  Yeah – that’d be the last 10,000 or so words.  I’ll need to focus and I can’t do that with broken CD players, bins full of winter jammies, and miscellaneous boxes of crap in my office. 

So, 5 rooms done, 5 to go.  Success!  PSG, Jester and Minx all live to see another week with only minor psychological scarring due to sudsy nakedness.  Another success.  And, just in case you wondered what happened after last week’s saga, Hubby deLuxe built the stairs to the pool deck.  Oh the luxury!  We’ve been in the pool every day this week and it has been so convenient!  Thank you HdL – you are the BEST!

Today’s secret: Isn’t the life of a romance writer glamorous?   Do you have needs in order to access your creativity?  Other than chocolate, of course.


2 thoughts on “Ups and Downs by Vivienne Lynge”

  1. I’m with you on the ickiness distraction, Viv. I work best after a good cleaning of my surroundings. At the very least, my desk needs to be uncluttered and the dishes done. There was a period of about seven years of my life when I had six boys in the house between the ages of 8 and 18. I remember those days of flying out of the shower/bathroom half naked (I had enough restraint to at least grab a towel since more than half of the boys in my house were not mine), screaming and on a rampage saying things like, “I can’t believe you people can’t get along for five minutes without me playing referee…that’s it! I’m running away!” or “If one more person–other than me–screams in this house again, no one is getting any supper.” These veiled threats gave only temporary relief and were impossible to implement because yes, I did need to actually feed the monsters, and no, I couldn’t run away from home no matter how attractive the prospect was. I tossed a few F-bombs at my kid kids in heated moments, which is now the source of great amusement to my grown sons who reminisce about the good old days when mom “lost it and started swearing like a trucker.” Those moments may send your kids to therapy, but more likely, they will be used to torment you when you are older.

  2. Viv, I have to thank you for your heartfelt blog, and the link you provided. And Paula, with her six boys. I remember those years well, with my three, and of course, have lots of stories. I am well passed that stage of life, but you have your writing to escape to, thank goodness. Raising kids is the toughest job of all. When they are bashing each other and eating someone else’s lollipop picked up from Walmart’s floor, it is hard to remember you must enjoy this time of life. But, if you can manage to survive and give lots of love, you get it back ten-fold later. So here’s my advice, if you want it, love alot, laugh alot, and do lots of time-outs.

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