Bunny Love

We are a bunny family. Some families have dogs and cats for pets, we have dogs and cats and bunnies. At one point, after two unexpected (really?) litters of baby bunnies we had fifteen of them. Months and many craigslist ads later we are down to our four standby rabbit friends, Wolf, CT (Cottontail), Hop, and Buttercup.

I don't think often about why we are a bunny family, but lately I had reason to be reminded of all the bunny stories we have enjoyed through the years. First of all, when my eldest child was quite young she was given a green plush rabbit for a toy, which became named Eliezer. I used to make up bedtime stories for my young daughter about a little girl meeting a rabbit named Eliezer in the back yard, and the adventures they would have. Then, of course, there were all the Easter bunnies and Easter bunny stories: the rabbit series by Alan Barker which is now out of print, the book Bunny and Me, featuring a lovely baby in fabulous handknits playing with a lop (what could be better?) and Hop!, a board book featuring, you guessed it: rabbits.

In addition to all the picture books, of course, contributing to our bunny mania may be the tiny fact that as soon as my daughter could read I began shoving my beloved copy of Watership Down at her. She read through it twice before she was ten, and I'm sure she'll revisit it at some point later on down the road. She may not be as much into picture books as she once was, but we're still reading them out loud to her siblings. There's not much better than a good bunny story. Even if it does result in a houseful of rabbits.

Rose Bushes

In my fantasy life, I am a great gardener. The kind that remembers to put bulbs in in the fall, deals competently with invasively multiplying perennials and deals out a kind organic death to weeds and pests. Up till now I have had an out in the form of several little people who call me "Mom" and needed constant supervision. Now that they are getting bigger, can swing for hours at a time (OK, minutes) without breaking out into a fight or falling down and getting hurt, or even better, like to "help," I am losing my excuses for why my yard isn't a thing of beauty and a joy forever. So what am I doing on this May morning? Putting off heading outside, drinking another cup of coffee...writing this post. Sigh.

Creativity with Kids

Somehow, reading bios of successful writers who made it big while raising their families makes it sound so easy. "I kept the typewriter in the kitchen," or "after the kids were asleep I churned out a chapter or two." Or from La Roberts, "I got bored while snowed in with little kids and no chocolate." The fact that they made it at all is amazing to me. I guess I can't walk and chew gum at the same time, but when the kids are up they all talk to me. Constantly. And I can't concentrate on writing one sentence and speaking another one at the same time. By the time they get in bed at night, I'm wiped out. It seems like the only time of day I am able to be productive in this solitary, self-centered business of creative writing is early in the morning before the first little person gets up. Which, considering we have some real morning people in the family, can be pretty early. I guess the other option is to ignore the kids, pass the chores on to everyone else and pamper my inner muse.

So here's hoping I manage to get to bed on time most nights and get up when the alarm goes off.