We've all got them. Some are very important, some are middling, some obviously come after everything else. For me, this week, I'm trying to figure out where writing fits, for me, in my life, right now.
It's been a bit of a mess, but the dust is settling. Hubby and I are getting the hang of this role-reversal thang. He's doing wonderfully, and it's gratifying for me to know that he's got a whole new idea of what it's like to manage a household. For me, my heart hurts when I drive away from the house every day, and I keep reminding myself that it's temporary, moms have to work sometimes too.
Being a mother taught me how to use time. Being a mother at work six days a week is going to force me to be brutal in uncluttering those few hours I get between supper and bed, between dawn on Sunday and that moment when I close my eyes. So what really matters?
- Time with the kids, reading, playing , and not looking at my watch and thinking about how I should put a load of laundry in.
- Time with hubby, who deserves more attention than he gets. He comes last too often.
- Time alone. I need - I'm starving for - time by myself, time when nobody needs anything from me, time when nobody is talking to me, time when I can do nothing, just read or soak or sit and watch tv.
- Time to write. I set this apart from alone time because they're not the same thing and I need both.
- Time to sleep. I'm an eight hours person. I don't always get that, of course, but I've learned that I need to do my best to get enough sleep because it affects my personality, and I owe it to my family to be the best Mom/wife I can. When I'm tired I'm impatient and I lose my temper too easily.
I know, welcome to motherhood, the rewards for which are not to be found on the list above. On Sunday I smelled Pebbles' neck a lot, you know the spot, just below her ear. I sat in the sun with my folks, spent some time feeling like I ought to clean something but not doing it. BamBam stayed overnight at his Nanny's, so I still miss him.
Hmmm. Time to clean the house didn't show up on the list.
Anyway, why blog about it? You writers know. Writing it helps me see it better, helps me see me better. I know it's all going to come together. When I get my days off back again I'll appreciate them more, and I'll have learned - again - not to put so many chores before puzzle time. Nothing changes faster than a child, and nothing more precious has ever gone unappreciated.