writing from home

In an effort not to bore anyone to sleep here (myself included), I’ve decided to mix things up a little. A few changes on the horizon I’m considering include guest posts and success story interviews. If you’re a freelance writer or blogger who wants to contribute, email me.

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Have you ever been a full grown woman trying to teach a two-year-old boy to pee standing up? I’ve survived the potty training of several nephews and a few friends’ children, and it always seems to go the same way.

“But why?” the short dude asks after I’ve told him to aim for the middle. He giggles. He waives his equipment around, testing his ready-aim-fire skills and hitting the wall more often than the potty. “This is funner!” he’ll eventually announce, grinning proudly as he figures out he can hit the mirror if he stands on the toothbrushing stool.

Upon having this conversation with one such little guy this evening, I’ve decided I don’t have a good enough answer. Telling a toddler to aim for the bowl so there won’t be such a big mess to clean up later is silly. After all, he’s too short to hold a mop; I’m the one stuck cleaning up the mess. And really, I don’t mind, because tomorrow I’ll send him home to his mother.

I am not good at aiming for the middle. I don’t have boy parts, but I’ve never been the kind of girl to let that particular lack stop me from trying to pee standing up. I can very clearly remember being two years old, my various family members gathered around me and the potty explaining why girls have to sit. I laugh just remembering it.

As a freelancer, a business owner, a blogger, an OCD nutjob with ADD tendencies, I’m not much better at the whole middle thing. For weeks on end I aim to please-please-please 12 hours a day, sometimes more, and spend 2-4 hours wishing I was two again. At some point I sleep, eat, and go potty. Then I crash. I point my metaphorical penis at the wall and think “Yeah! This IS way funner!” I digress into blow-off-everything-I-can chick. Then eventually I get back at it and become the me I consider to be the one in charge of pretending to be a responsible adult. What I do works for me — as in, I’m functional for the most part, and my bills are paid — but at the same time I have my moments of wishing I could be like all those lovely composed folks who do all things in moderation.

There should be a middle. I’ve tried hard to find it, with fabulous aim. I’ve read books, seen therapists, been drugged, taken e-cources, gotten hypnotized. In August I’m seeing a life coach. For now, I’m trying very hard to accept that I’m simply a better juggler than balance-beam-walker.

But I’m curious, how do you all find your balance? What is the middle you aim for?

Since this is no longer an income-generating blog, I check my stats here mostly only out of curiosity. When I need a good laugh, I skim through the list of recent keywords folks googled to find me here at write-from-home.com. My favorites this week:

1) schizophrenia and perfectionism

2) crazy new syndromes

3) i have a nutjob working for me

4) reality show and nocturnal custom cabinets

5) pantyhose obsession confessions

The best part? Even though none of these folks found what they were looking for, every one of them stuck around and clicked on at least two more pages. (And none were spammers.) Must say something for my exquisite wit and fine writing skills, eh? [insert giggles here]

Care to share any crazy, arbitrary results from YOUR recent keyword analysis???

Ostriches rock. And because I’m procrastinating on a project — shocker, I know — I thought I’d stop in to bring you a bit of ostrich trivia, so that you too can dig my long-necked role model. Ostrich facts (according to wikipedia, which means they might not be true, but if I felt like fact-checking I’d go back to the job I’m getting paid to procrastinate on):

1) Ostriches can run faster than any other bird. 40 mph.

2) When threatened, the Ostrich will either hide itself by lying flat against the ground, or will run away.

3) If cornered, it can cause injury and death with a kick from its powerful legs.

4) Mating patterns differ by geographical region, but territorial males fight for a harem of two to seven females.

5) An Ostrich can live up to 75 years.

6) There have been no observations of Ostriches putting their heads in the sand. Ostriches do deliberately swallow sand and pebbles to help grind up their food; seeing this from a distance may have caused some early observers to believe that their heads were buried in sand.

7) Ostriches are large enough for a small person to ride them, typically while holding on to the wings for grip, and in some areas of northern Africa and the Arabian Peninsula Ostriches are trained as racing mounts.

I’m allergic to horses, so I never got to ask for a pony. Maybe in my next life, I’ll ask for an ostrich.

Who (or what) is your role model? And why?