(I know I need show some pictures of Trinidad and finish my post, but this seemed to be more important to post, besides, my BROTHER who owes me some pics, hasn't sent them on yet.)
I can't exactly recall what we were talking about, but Lucas mentioned that he thought I was brave.
"So babe, why do you say so?"
"Well you try to play video games with me even though you don't know the games and you don't play well."
At least he was honest about it and since I am very happy to accept any praise from my children, I lapped it up. But as we are on the topic of cowardice :) you might be wondering about my writing. Even if you aren't the least bit interested, I'm going to tell you.
I went to a free writing workshop in the library which I enjoyed. (It was on memoir writing facilitated by Ms. Spike Gillespie). One writing exercise was to write about one decade in your life using 3 words to describe each year. At the end of it, a few participants read their writing.
You can just imagine the picture. Me, with my mouth open looking at the reader and then down at what I wrote, thinking "Why am I here again?"
The words were so poetic, revealing and emotional. I was stunned to find it in a forum of regular people at the library. So my (lack of) talent question left me in a self-confidence hole that I couldn't really come out of for a while. It also left me thinking about why I was writing (and by extension, why I do anything). Do I only enjoy doing things I am good at? Would I stop writing if I wasn't in the 85th percentile (in my own mind) or is it enough to just enjoy writing?
I still haven't given writing my best yet, and I plan to keep on writing until I do, and maybe the question will be moot. I can only hope.
In the end, I will be attending more writing workshops and wondering what else my big son is thinking about his Mama.
I can't exactly recall what we were talking about, but Lucas mentioned that he thought I was brave.
"So babe, why do you say so?"
"Well you try to play video games with me even though you don't know the games and you don't play well."
At least he was honest about it and since I am very happy to accept any praise from my children, I lapped it up. But as we are on the topic of cowardice :) you might be wondering about my writing. Even if you aren't the least bit interested, I'm going to tell you.
I went to a free writing workshop in the library which I enjoyed. (It was on memoir writing facilitated by Ms. Spike Gillespie). One writing exercise was to write about one decade in your life using 3 words to describe each year. At the end of it, a few participants read their writing.
You can just imagine the picture. Me, with my mouth open looking at the reader and then down at what I wrote, thinking "Why am I here again?"
The words were so poetic, revealing and emotional. I was stunned to find it in a forum of regular people at the library. So my (lack of) talent question left me in a self-confidence hole that I couldn't really come out of for a while. It also left me thinking about why I was writing (and by extension, why I do anything). Do I only enjoy doing things I am good at? Would I stop writing if I wasn't in the 85th percentile (in my own mind) or is it enough to just enjoy writing?
I still haven't given writing my best yet, and I plan to keep on writing until I do, and maybe the question will be moot. I can only hope.
In the end, I will be attending more writing workshops and wondering what else my big son is thinking about his Mama.
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