This will not be my finest post. Which is not a great launch to a new blog, right? But what it is is real and with the little time I get to sit down and write, there will be a lot of ‘real’ around here. I’m one of those writers that needs quiet to concentrate, put my thoughts in order and find the right words. I’m not sure if that’s normal or not. I don’t understand how people choose to go to coffee shops to write – I’d get way too distracted people watching and drooling over the cakes in the display counter. Anyway, my point is that I need quiet to concentrate. This morning I’m sitting right by my Ipod dock which is blaring out One Direction in an attempt to motivate my two little girls to tidy their rooms, which was a requirement in order for them to play on the keyboard. They’re not having an ‘I love my sister so much’ morning and I’m having to referee a squabble/shout-off on average every three minutes.
So quiet it is not.
If you’re a super-mum reading this and feeling appalled at my lack of attentiveness to my children, please be assured that this is a rare occurrence. Not the bickering, that happens all the time. No, rarely do I even attempt to blog when the girls in the house unless they’re a) asleep or b) engrossed in some other activity. And though I confess that I may be guilty of allowing the shout-offs to last just a little longer than I normally would, this is a one off. I need to get this first post of this new blog in the bag before I lose my nerve and stop writing altogether.
I’ve put off creating this blog-site for the past month because I knew I’d find jumping back into blogging scary and I just didn’t know what to call it. In the hazy honeymoon feeling of peace love and unicorns, it was too easy to keep popping it to the back of my mind. Just like the huge pile of ironed clothes that have needed to be put away. And the prints that have needed to be ordered from our ‘familymoon’. And the housekeeping name-change paperwork that has been waiting for me to do something with.
Why do we put off the inevitable?? Logic would tell me that the ironing will only get increasingly crumpled where it is at the moment and that I’ll be so happy when pictures of our first time away as an official family are on the wall. I know these jobs won’t take that long and that they’re worth doing. Back in the day, every time I left a uni-assignment until the last minute I would swear it was the last time that procrastination would bite me on the bum.
We’re programmed to look for the easy option, the most gain with the least pain. So when I come home from work, get tea on the table, baths run (only when absolutely necessary – I know, I’m no mum of the year) and two reluctant bed-goers are snuggled up, I have become an expert at convincing myself that everything ‘can wait’ and that the most gain imaginable that evening would be finding out who has fathered Amber’s unborn child on Neighbours. I love Neighbours, don’t judge me.
Which works out fine until those jobs just don’t get done.
So yay to me for finally telling procrastination where to go, and in the spirit of getting stuff ‘done’ I’m off to put those clothes away while the girls are content to ‘bless’ the whole house with a rendition of Twinkle Twinkle on the keyboard and violin…