Sorry the blog has been abandoned like a couch with bed bugs (i.e.: abandoned, ignored, pretend you don’t know it, just keep walking). It’s because I had been trying to balance too many things and nothing was getting done as it ought to be. So I sat back and thought (ha. who am I kidding? I thought while doing laundry, cleaning spit up, potty training, writing, revising, picking up from school, grocery shopping, menu planning, etc etc. But not sitting.). I figured out the things that had to stay (writing book 2, promoting book 1, parenting, being a good spouse, taking care of my health) and the things that could fall away (dusting, folding laundry, and sadly, blogging).
Just for a while. Just so I could be more present for the kidlets. I noticed that all of the things I had to get done were creeping into the time when I was supposed to be parenting and making me annoyed with my wee fiends. And not because what they were doing was annoying (although it certainly was on occasion), but because I kept feeling like I ought to be watching them AND. Being with them AND writing a book. Playing with them AND doing research for the next book. Paying attention to them AND promoting my first book on social media. And all those ANDs added up to me resenting my work, resenting my kids, and resenting myself for not magically being able to bend the space-time continuum (Hermione Granger, where are you with your time turner when I needed you??).
Parenting two toddlers (especially if they’re of the imaginative, high-energy variety), is exhausting and I only find it enjoyable when I can just let almost everything else go and exist in the moment. Sure I can still turn the laundry over or plan dinner, but I can’t be outlining a book at the same time as I pretend that a golden dragon (a nice dragon) is breathing fire at just the right temperature to warm me up but not so hot as to burn me while building a tunnel for a bear who is best friends with a train. What can I say? I’m limited like that.
And wonder of wonders: when I abandoned my attempts at multi-tasking my kids were suddenly so much more enjoyable. Exhausting, and relentless, and inventive, and hilarious, and usually one step ahead of me, but enjoyable nonetheless. Now that they are over their bewildering variety of holiday ailments I actually have a few hours a day to devote to work. I still do things like cook and fold laundry when I’m watching the toads (that’s a term of affection, I swear), but I try to avoid work. Work deserves its own space, and so does parenting (chores be damned. And by “be damned”, I mean be done as they can be, within the spaces created by my kids getting old enough to play on their own a little. I was never going to win any housekeeping awards anyway).
All this is to say: I’m back! As much as I can be without driving myself and my children over the brink into madness. It feels good.