(No, I am not pregnant.)
I poured a bowl of cereal because it just seemed fitting.
When I was in college and working in the newspaper office into the wee hours of morning, I would come back to my dorm/townhouse/suite and eat Special K (with berries!) in a bright, hardened plastic bowl before heading to bed. It was a ritual that allowed for reflection as I ate in the silence of the room.
I was reminded of those moments as I was lying with my daughter in her toddler bed tonight. Stories, words, and ideas zipped through my mind as I thought with excitement about this new endeavor. I didn’t get much of a chance to consider it in its entirety while Linnea was still awake. There were errands that needed to be run (library, gas, groceries), dinner that needed to be made (omelettes, toast, fruit) and bedtime stories that needed to be told (Madeline, a family photo book, and Winnie the Pooh).
A number with a Denver area code flashed on the screen of my iphone at 4:39. When the nice lady said, “Denver Post”, I thought for sure they were trying to update our subscription. But, then she asked, “Am I talking to ‘motormouth'” before introducing herself as the editorial page news editor. I knew then she was referring to my cover letter for the writing contest: “…the older I grew, the more I was able to channel my incessant chatter and thoughtful opinions into words on paper.” was how I partially explained the nickname.
“Congratulations–you were selected as one of 16 Colorado Voices for the Denver Post”…and I was elated.
When I told Linnea the exciting news, she burst into tears and said, “I don’t want you to be a writer. I want you to stay a teacher.” (She misunderstood that I would be doing this alongside teaching…) And somewhere between more tears and her insistence that I do not know how to use a computer, I realized she was just tired from a not-long-enough nap.
So, it was only fitting that after I put her down for (an earlier) bedtime, I carved some time for that silent reflection in my life once more.
More cereal and more writing. Life is good.