Spring is here! Or—to be a bit more specific (for me, anyway)—here in Georgia we have passed through the brief hell known as three-straight-weeks-of-deadly-pollen-levels and are now catapulting directly into what already feels like, and soon will actually be, summer.

I am approaching having lived in Georgia for three years, and embarking on my fourth summer here. The same thing happens to me every single year and yet it still causes me to panic, because I am apparently a slow learner. Oh, the first summer we’d just moved, and we were getting settled and everything was new, so, sure, I felt like work couldn’t be the top item on my priority list. And then the next summer, well, I figured I was just worried about the new summer schedule for the kids and such. Last summer, I just had a lot going on, you know, so there was that. And this year? Well, I think I may have finally cracked the code.

The thing is, I’m pretty sure I have senioritis. Just, you know, every May.

And what’s more, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think that—given what I do, and the way I work—it’s actually a really good thing, once I stop panicking about it.
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Today I’m feeling inspired by a friend, and so I’d like to talk about something a little bit different than our usual fare; and the fact that I—Miss Practical—want to have this discussion should tell you something.

I am a details person. I like things to be orderly, and I like to have a plan, and I like for things to be logical. No, I’m not quite a Vulcan, but still… perhaps it’s a reaction against the fact that I often am too emotional that, in my business life, I am all about the well-reasoned decision and the concretely-measured benefits.

But today, let’s pretend none of that is true. Rather, let’s acknowledge that to be true, and simultaneously admit this: All practical and no pie-in-the-sky makes Mir a dull writer. There is intrinsic value in the regular exercising of “What if…” It’s something I’m often not very good at remembering, and so I’m feeling very grateful for the wise words I was just reading this morning. Because while it is true that Maggie Mason started a bold trend with the advent of her life list, I never really thought that sort of exercise was for someone like me. And today I realize that it’s for someone exactly like me.
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As I’ve mentioned here a few times, I joined up with a group of like-minded busy women to launch a group blog this year about getting fit and healthy and living more fully and all of that. I mean, we knew from the beginning that “all of that” would be part of it, but we launched with a challenge to lose ten pounds in ten weeks, and I figured that mostly we’d be getting healthier.

I lost the ten pounds (kicking and screaming most of the way, mind you) and felt really great. Then we did an organizing/decluttering challenge, and I tackled closets and kids’ rooms and piles and paper napkins (part of my challenge to myself was to get greener, and we have now switched to cloth napkins), and again, I felt good about what I accomplished. “This ‘being a better person’ thing is awesome,” I thought. “Piece of cake.”

Our current challenge is the reader-named “I dare you” challenge, and it’s about stepping outside of our comfort zones. I made the mistake, initially, of asking my husband what he thought I should think about trying.
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The year is nearly done, and so it’s time for me to reflect on how my business did this year, and what I want to change for next year. There’s no law stating I have to do this, of course, but it’s a little exercise that I find goes well with writing checks to the IRS and weeping uncontrollably.

Oh, I’m kidding. I don’t cry while I write those checks.

I come up with new swear words, instead.

Kidding! Truly!

Look, ever since the first time I got completely walloped with taxes, I have a little mantra I like to repeat to myself: This is an excellent problem to have. Having lots of taxes to pay means I made money. Having more taxes to pay than I planned for means I made more money than I thought I would. If there’s a better problem to have, I’d like to know what it is.

Still, it’s the perfect time of year to reflect, to start planning for next year, and to just generally see where my business is at.
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Oh what a difference a week makes.

Last week, I was trying not to drown. Too much to do, not enough time to do it in, angst and fretting running in overdrive.

This week, things are different. And not because anything changed. Well, nothing changed with work, anyway. The difference this week is that my children are home from school. And I still have lots to get done; but for some reason, rather than feeling overwrought and frantic about it, I’m just feeling much more relaxed.

Crazy, right? To feel more relaxed when the kids are running around and I have to stop working fifteen times a day to play referee or fix them something to eat or just come and “look, Mom!” or whatever? Usually those things would, I’m sad to say, put me on edge and make my day more stressful, if I’m trying to get work done.

If this were a movie, now would be the part where I would show you have I was visited by several ghosts and learned the true meaning of Christmas.
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When I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and be an actress. There was nothing I loved better than being on stage, no feeling headier than transforming into someone else and performing.

Now’s the part where I’m supposed to tell you that then I turned six (or ten or eighteen) and grew up and realized that was dumb, but that’s not how it went, for me. I actually got a degree in theater performance in college, and it wasn’t until my senior year that I realized I was just not cut out for a life in performance. For one thing, although there’s certainly nothing wrong with the way I look, when surrounded by so many truly stunning actresses, I came to realize that even if I was the better performer, I would be passed over for someone more attractive most of the time. For another, the life of an actor isn’t terribly conducive to what I’d consider “family life.” And so… I found other dreams. More specifically, I started working on the eternal juggle of personal vs. career goals.
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About four years ago I decided it was time to make a go of freelancing full-time, and I have worked hard since then to make my dream a reality. In just about every respect—if I do say so myself, heh—I think mine is a success story. At this point I enjoy a steady income, fulfilling work, a flexible schedule, and the satisfaction of knowing I made it all happen.

Which is why I am really struggling right now.

I am a product of public schools. I believe in public schools; not just because they’re the route I took, but because I think the principles behind them are good ones and that there are laws in place which should, theoretically, make them a viable path to success for everyone. My children attend public school. But I am currently somewhere I never expected to be: I am considering homeschooling.
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To further confuse this metaphor, I’ve included a handy photo of a pothole, even though I really did mean a slothole. Which is, of course, an imaginary thing.

Some of the very best advice I’ve ever received on writing for a living without losing your ever-lovin’ mind has come to me by way of my dear friend Joshilyn Jackson. Joshilyn—in addition to being one of my favorite people—is a NY Times bestselling novelist, so when she talks about the writerly life and how to succeed in this business, I listen. She knows whereof she speaks, is my point. And my favorite piece of advice from her, bar none, is this admonition: Don’t be slotty.

I was reminded of this because of a recent post on her blog where she mentioned it, but really the best summation comes from this post of hers which is now several years old. She says:
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This weekend the kids and I took a day to lounge around in our pajamas and do little more than eat and watch television. It was divine. I hadn’t realized how badly we’d all needed it, until we did it. And even though it meant some things didn’t get done and I had some scrambling to do to catch up, I’d do it again. Because sometimes we just need to stop and breathe and just be.

I think that no matter your profession—whether you work out of the home, from home, or not at all—it is in the nature of child-raising that just when you’ve pretty much gotten things figured out, something changes. Grooves were meant to be interrupted, and children have a way of transforming weekly or even daily. So although it’s true that just about everyone runs into work/life balance issue, I think as parents we’re much more prone to “chasing a shifting target” sorts of issues.

I know I am, anyway.
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My children are pretty well past the Dr. Seuss stage, but we all still find it endlessly amusing to frame discussions involving choices in the manner of Green Eggs and Ham. Could you, would you, in a boat? Could you, would you, with a goat?

Using this context for a discussion that’s apt to make my head explode is a nice way to attempt to keep it light, I think. And so, today, I ask my fellow writers:

Would you write crap and append your name?
Would you extol a product that’s lame?
Could you, would you, on your blog?
Could you, would you, for a client’s dog?
Where’s the line when “selling out?”
Does it make you want to scream and shout?

(And yes, I’m aware that it’s a very good thing I’m not being paid for my poetry.)
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