Almost an entire week without a single word written here. You may not have noticed because you lead a similar life of mess and confusion otherwise known as "Life With Kids."
So here I am, trying to gather some thoughts into sentences that make even a small bit of sense. But maybe, if we are leading similar lives, you will understand my shorthand anyway.
A week away from writing feels a little like a holiday. I definitely treat this blog as a job and I maintain it as best I can because I know that once the kids are all in school, either directly or indirectly, The Little Mumma will be my career. I will write. Each and every day. For hours at a time if I so desire. The idea of that thrills me more than I can say but I am not at that point yet and so the writing gets slotted in around my current full time job – chief wrangler of small people. Unfortunately, trying to devote myself wholly to both is not possible right now. Something had to give.
For a while, I have to admit I got the priority arse-about and the balance of quality writing to quality parenting was wildly swinging towards this here keyboard and that did not work out well. The kids were unhappy and so was I. I learnt that feeding my need to write did not outweigh my need to be the mum. Any job that comes at the expense of my kids and more importantly, my ability to really be there for them and with them is not worth it – especially when there is negligible money in it.
So I have readjusted. I "mum" more and I blog less and I am, wait for it, HAPPIER. I have let go of the guilt associated with not writing, of not constantly building and growing this venture I have created. Now is not the time. I have three small people who really love it when I am truly present and available to them.
And also, after taking over a year to read one book, lately I've been reading a book a week. The balance is definitely better now, in every aspect.
I am still building here but the pace is slow and steady. The Little Mumma is my personal narrative, it is small moments of my life, woven lovingly into the fabric of this blog – and I need to actually live my life in order to have anything meaningful to say here.
It is mess and it is confusion and it will not last. Documenting a moment is nice. Living it is more important. So this week when, out of the blue, Harlow began to walk across the lounge room floor, I didn't race to find my phone. I just held my breath and watched her toddle for five steps. It would have been great to have caught it on video but in trying to do so, I would have missed the whole thing. And though some day my failing memory may make it impossible to recall these moments, they still belong to me for having truly lived them.