Behind the Scenes: Deadlines

I'll never, ever, EVER pass for a soccer mom. But . . . I suppose on the outside of things, my household might appear somewhat normal. You know, for a family with four kids (one moved out), two grandparents living with us, two dogs, a cat, a hedgehog, a ball python . . . and one mom who writes. There is the piano, the tuba, the violin (noise). One Naked Pirate Boy practicing Tae Kwon Do moves. (More noise.) And a LOT of clutter everywhere. Just too many of us in one house.

But whatever passes as "normal" around here (and man, am I using air quotes), disappears when it's deadline time.

In fact, Pirate Boy did not speak until he was two and a half. Not one word. Not mama, nothing. And then suddenly, he spoke in fully articulate sentences. And I'm not sure, but his first words may have been "Mommy has a deadline."

The following things--"normal" things--disappear when I have a deadline.

• Showers.
• Showers for Pirate Boy.
• Clean clothes. For anyone.
  
• Any semblance of healthy eating for my children.
• Any THOUGHT of exercise, taking a walk, heck, I think breathing becomes optional.

The following things APPEAR when I have a deadline.

• Pizza boxes. Everywhere.
• Half-drunk cups of coffee. Everywhere.
• Bedhead hair. I just don't have time to deal with it.
• Dust bunnies. They breed.
• Occasional tears, panic attacks, and meltdowns. Mine and Pirate Boy's.

Yeah. Behind most writers, this ugly scene takes place in some way, shape, or form.

So 'fess up. Whether a term paper, a deadline, a big work project . . . what does it look like behind the scenes when your life ceases being "normal"?

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