Mummy Porridge Brain is putting us to work again in her
Writing Sweatshop Workshop :D
Hop on over for more brilliant prompts to exercise ye
olde grey matter & get your creative juices flowing.
This week, I toyed with
opting for No.1:
You get a day off. No kids, no housework, no responsibility. Where would you go? What would you do? - but all I'd do is a. sleep, b. make like a potato and veg with
dvds, junk food &
readables, or c. retreat to my wonderful magical room of fantasy. Given that c sadly doesn't exist, and a&b wouldn't make for terribly exciting reading, I have decided to go with:
5. Sit in a room of your house you spend a lot of time in. And really LOOK. Notice all the details you usually miss, and describe them with all the creativity you can muster. Let the every-day inspire you.
Sitting comfortably?
Me too. On my sofa, in my living room.
My living room, which, once upon a time, was a haven of carefully selected, 100% colour coordinated, classy, comfortable, chic. Deliberately positioned cushions, perfectly aligned coasters on polished coffee table, pretty photo frames and other objects dotted here and there (always grouped in threes - it's an interior design thang sweetie), no mess, no clutter, everything had it's place.
Then I had a baby.
An almighty inflatable donkey attached to a felt play mat sits on the floor to my left. To accommodate the overflow of my growing boy, he's been joined by a safari themed playmat in all the colours of the rainbow. They don't match eachother, much less the rest of the room. They are strewn with various rattles and cuddlies, a muslin square, a baby whoozit, and what looks like a lump of half eaten - yep, it's a chunk of chewed-round-the-edges rusk. (note to self - pick that up.) To my right, there's a bouncy chair. A bright blue bouncy chair, covered in frogs and turtles. That is definitely not in-keeping with the decor.
A few feet in front of me, my once Mr-Sheen'ed to within an inch of it's life coffee table, is now littered with... stuff. Let's see, there's an empty little stars pot and a bib, smeared and smelling of strawberries. There's a copy of Cosmo which I think I managed to read about 4 pages of before a certain someone decided that pretty, glossy magazines make great noises when ripped and crumpled. There are 2 cold half cups of coffee, a distinctly drool-covered remote control, and oh look, another chunk of rusk.
Other side of the table, the faux-leather magazine rack that used to be where the uncrumpled glossy magazine loveliness lived, now houses nappies, wipes, and a selection of creams. And, there's a bright blue changing mat propped up against the wall. (At least it matches the bouncer I suppose.)
Right of the coffee table, is the other sofa (those still match too. Just.), and on that, sits the love of my life. My Mr, My other half, The Daddy, My best friend. He's half watching TV, half falling asleep, and in his arms, is the reason for the inflatable donkey, the froggie bouncer, the nappies and the empty little stars pot - our son. The tiny little person who somehow comes with more stuff than the Mr & I have put together. (even including my bags & shoes. really.) Our precious little baby boy who came along and turned everything we had gotten to know as normal completely upside down.
Sure, a tiny part of me misses the serenity of the way this room used to be.
Yes, I'd love to sit and drink a whole cup of coffee while it's still hot, while nonchalantly flipping through a glossy magazine.
And no, I probably wouldn't miss playing 'hmm, wonder what that new stain is?'.
But the thing is, I'm a mummy now, and I love it.
I love the toys everywhere and the general sense of disarray & mayhem.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
(Though the neurotic tendencies do still insist on coordinated cushion covers and the groups of three - gotta have some standards!)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Josie was right - the everyday really can be inspiring! - Have a go yourself - it's very fun.
And remember, the first rule of
Writing Workshop, Is that you don't talk about Writing Workshop.
Except actually, you should. Lots. To everyone. It rocks.
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