Ever since I started my blog I have had moms asking who Martha Fish is. Others who know my personality and writing knew right away that it was me and not a whole other person. My mother did not realize right away and simply figured I found someone who loved to babble on as much as I do on paper. Martha Fish is the name I came up with one day as I was writing an article for the old newsletter. After having the name come to mind, I didn’t actually use it in writing until two years later. I guess you could say that Martha Fish is an alter ego of sorts. She’s not the opposite of myself but rather a more focused version. Martha is my mirror image. It’s how I get myself to step outside and look back in. The reason for this is that, if I am not Martha Fish, I tend to be myself . And as myself, I cannot “just write”. If I were to start writing and then get up for a cup of coffee, I would then veer off toward the laundry room and start to fold clothes. Keep in mind I never made it to the kitchen for that cup of coffee. After folding laundry I would then proceed to let the dog out and while waiting for him to do his business, I would remember that my plants need water and I would walk over to the kitchen sink and pull out the watering can. At that moment the dog would bark and I would abandon the watering can to let him in. Upon letting the dog in I would realize that my four year old has decorated the glass on our backdoor with fingerprints and blowfish prints. I would then look everywhere for a bottle of glass cleaner that does not currently exist in the house because I forgot to buy it during the last two grocery trips. You can pretty much realize that I would never make it back to the computer to complete my thoughts.
So I choose to write as Martha. She’s calm and collected. She’s not afraid to write what she really thinks about motherhood and, most importantly, she gets the writing done. Martha never would have needed a cup of coffee in the first place. Martha writes as I stand watch on the boys ( now 9 & 4 ) – arms folded, eyes wide open and knees slightly bent so I don’t pass out. That’s how I escape the day for a good 15 minutes at a time, but I can’t do it without her. And once she’s done writing, I get back to myself and write glass cleaner on my grocery list.