A Different View

For years I'd gone to the eye doctor's and lusted after the thick, dark glasses worn by those smart, creative, writerly types. I promised myself that when I became a 'real' writer, I'd buy a pair. And one day, after years of submitting on evenings and weekends, and months of working at it full-time, I decided to trash my preconceived notions - whatever a 'rea'l writer was, I was it. I was it!

And then came my first (okay, only) big break into the national magazine market. Crazy, but - it was an article I wrote for a writing magazine about finally buying the thick writer's rims, called A New View. I loved those glasses.

Past tense.

The first time my daughter broke them, I didn't think much of it. Sported some duct tape for a few weeks and then got them fixed. Two days ago, she pulled them apart for a second time. I can't help but see the metaphor. I haven't written or submitted one thing since she's been born. And worse: up until a few weeks ago, I haven't wanted to. In the new world of first steps, hugs and bubble baths, writing about the benefits of eating bananas couldn't hold a candle. I couldn't have cared less.

Past tense.

Because when those glasses broke this time, I felt something other than exasperation. I felt sad. I miss the solitude of writing, and I miss being something other than 'mom'.

So back to writing, it is. Back to me. It may no longer be a new view, but after a year of parenting, it IS a different one. A fuller, more informed (albeit, more tired!) and experienced one.