Some Lila That I Used To Know

You're singing now, aren't you?

Admit it.

Also, this is the first time I've used gifs. Forgive me if they're stupid.

I digress.

There was once a girl. (Such a unique way of beginning, I know)

She was a stay-at-home mom. In the mornings, she would wake up, put the fixings for dinner into the crock pot, follow a cleaning schedule, and even baked two loaves of bread before the kids even woke up. Then she dutifully homeschooled her kids, fixed a sensible dinner with vegetables and everything.

She couponed religiously.

For the love of all that’s holy, that girl used to cross-stitch. CROSS-STITCH.

And she did that thing—like—she wore real clothes, not yoga pants, sports bra and a tank top all day. She brushed her hair and sometimes even—GASP—put on make-up.

Don’t get excited, it wasn’t that often.

She used to shower twice a day and dance with her kids in the kitchen to cheesy eighties music.

Such a goody two shoes. I mean seriously, the girl was such a kiss ass.

What happened to her?

She got the bright idea to write a book and never looked back.

She basically became a typing lump—in the best way possible.

Everything else went away.

Now her knees ache (what is that about?) her elbows pop randomly, and she carries around drops for her constantly dry eyes and Tums for her constant heartburn.

She’s now ADDICTED to coffee.

For a little over two years now, I’ve been consumed by this thing called writing. It’s the first thing I think about in the morning. Sometimes I dream about it. Sometimes I do that Walter Mitty thing and just space out completely.

And I love it. It’s been such a blessing to us.

We used to live paycheck to paycheck, no savings in sight. My husband worked his arse off and I did editing jobs here and there to bring in a little extra. We saw no hope for anything more in sight. But we were content.

Then I found writing.

There’s no other career I’d rather have in the world.

And the fact that someone, anyone reads my books just blows my mind day after day.

The thing is—I miss that Lila that I used to know. She collected her records and changed her number on me. I miss her homemade pasta Alfredo. I miss her little keychain chapstick holders that she used to sew on the side. There’s some remnants of her around here. Her menus are still in the perfectly organized Household Notebook she used to maintain. There’s an untouched coupon holder that misses me—my checkbook misses it too.

I began to feel like a failure as a mom and a wife and everything that wasn't writerly.

*sigh*

I miss that girl.

So my new mission is to work her back into my life—slowly.

Like so slow, she won’t even notice.

Hopefully I won’t either.

I’m starting in October by not eating out anymore. We used to eat out at most once or twice a month.

Now the lady at the Chinese place knows my name. And I'm all about the pizza. 

Little by little, maybe I can be a good mix of the Lila I love now and the Lila I used to know and love.

Maybe.

I’m trying.

It's all about balance. Which is incredibly hard. Little by little.

 Is there somebody that you used to know?