(Jade, my teen daughter/writer, shares her point of view on the A to Z Challenge that I signed up for.)
No one told me that this challenge would be hard, nor did they say it would be easy. Though the most important thing that was left out, was the fact that this challenge involves me.
Shouts and calls heard from the kitchen are met by impatient groans. I rise once again to help my mother with her challenge, as she presents a poem she has written. I make a deal with her as I read over her poem that lacks poetic characteristics. If I help her, she will go to the grocery store and buy me some snack food.
I don’t believe you understand just what it is like to live in the “Family C” household at the moment. I sit on the couch, writing stories on my computer as my mother sits in the kitchen, writing entries to her blog. Of course, every time a post is soon to be published, I am called.
“Can you come here please?”
“I want you to read this before I publish it.”
I groan and walk over to the kitchen, sitting down on the chair to read her story. I correct her work as she has given me the fun job as her editor. Unlike an actual editor’s job. Not only do I correct her pressing grammatical errors and misunderstood attempts with English punctuation, I also get to explain each time why I removed that semicolon.
At this point, when my mom has returned from her part of the deal and has read to the point of my last paragraph, I know what she will say.
“Don’t add that, Jade.”
“Sorry, too late. Imagine those words etched in stone, instead of completely removable by the click of a button, Mom.”
But as I did promise to write about my experiences of dealing with her A to Z challenge, and she is being a lovely mother at the moment by fulfilling her part of our deal, I shall write.
Dealing with the A to Z challenge is a pain in my neck.
And I’m not the one doing it.
I come home after school to discover sticky notes plastered on our walls and my mother sitting at her desk, either writing or eating salad while intensely staring at her computer screen.
She turns to face me and asks how my day has been.
This is my moment.
I now have five minutes to squeeze in my entire day before her next inevitable question.
“So, I was wondering if you had an idea for what I should do for the letter …?” or “So, I wrote this today and I want to know what you think.”
What started off as a good idea, something for my mother to have fun with has turned into a full fledged project. My mother working as the leader, while I have a part-time job as the whole committee. I must edit, I must share opinions (but not too many because then I am a teenager with an attitude problem apparently), and I must tell her that I like it.
Though she is having fun doing the challenge and telling me what people from other countries are saying, I am not having as much.
(Jade has now returned to her couch to her own writing and is happily snacking away on her chips. I, on the other hand, am reflecting on whether the above paints me in a bad light 🙂 Oh well and I hit the publish button.)