Did I Happen to Mention

...that I have an addictive personality? Oh, I didn't? Well, I do. So now, after completing my first challenge from Blog This I am tapping fingers, jigging my right leg and trying to control the twitch above my left eye as I count off the days to the next. I am addicted. It is really not a bad thing. I had lost a lot of my natural Tigger bounce where writing was concerned, become disillusioned with my lack of ability and in serious danger of giving it all up.

Big Boy (DH) was worried, really worried. He knows story words flow through my brain in a constant stream begging to be written and as he has to live with me and my verbal diarrhoea... Well, lets just say he had visions of being drowned under words if my other outlet ceased. So, for my enthusiasm to be revived by joining this site has made more than just me happy, in fact the whole Madmother household is breathing a very loud sigh of relief and there have even been a few loud "OH YEAH!" and high fives.

Boy 2 is especially happy, he is the mini-me, even down to his dream of writing. He wrote a series of stories in Preschool. Yes, you are not mis-reading: PRESCHOOL. Okay, to be completely clear on this, he did not actually do the writing (cudos to Mrs Rose). He dictated, very precisely (and was quite the temperamental little author if even a syllable was altered) every word, drew all illustrations, and followed true to the end, his theme or central storyline. The Johnny series. Twelve in all. Since then he has written plays (two of which he and Boy 1 have performed in the school talent quest), poems, and now even a song. Not too shabby a CV for a ten year old.

Thus, if his Madmother had deserted the written word, his heart would have broken. Okay, I exaggerate, but it would have been severely bruised because he believes his old Mum can do anything and truly is of the conviction that it is only a matter of time before publishers knock on our door for both of us.

Oh dear. I seem to have rambled off the point once again. Just chalk it down to getting to know me and the fact I am battling an affliction at the moment. The common cold. Yes, on hot sweaty days I am even more hot and sweaty due to these temperatures my body is using to fight this bug. Oops, there I go again. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, getting back on topic.

Blog. This. Challenges. During my happy manic phase I am positive I could roll off a blog a day. Of course, during my low or stressed period it would drop to a blog a month if I was lucky. And in one week of the cycle I would be perfectly capable of polishing off a whole murder thriller including a body. If you get my drift.

Sorry, bit gruesome though I would think a few women out there can relate.

Now, how do I know I have an addictive personality? The most recent example I can give (other than my quick entry into the challenge) is on Facebook. Boy 1 and Boy 2 have been desperately lobbying to sign up as a lot of their mates are on it. After much heated discourse, and many set in stone guidelines we agreed. Mainly they wanted to play The Games. You know the ones: Cafe World, Yoville, Farmtown, I could go on and on. So I, in my wisdom, after managing to avoid these applications despite much intense lobbying from so-called friends, decided to monitor by playing too. I am now on level 21 in Cafe World. After a bit over a week. Oops. I did mention my addictive personality, didn't I? Yeah, well. Hang on a minute, I'll be right back, just have to serve some French Onion Soup.

No - not that sort, THIS sort:

See what I mean?

ADDICTED!

Must dash. Boy 2 has been waiting for a little to be picked up from a mate's house. See, even my adored children fade into the back of my mind when my obsessive side takes over. But before I go, a little more self-indulgence...

Had I lost you all? Bored you to tears with my rambling? Probably. But one thing I know for certain,

Madmother is BACK!

I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all.

~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977~