Today was a roundabout day.
It started late last night as I was trying to fumble together some words to post. I did, but I didn’t. I wrote, but nothing was working well. By that point I was too tired to tell if I was just being picky or if I should just call it a night.
Eventually I gave up on it, because posting something randomly incoherent would be basically unhelpful to most of us. I’d check the box and say I posted that day, but the words would not have been what they needed to be.
So I went to bed and planned to write something in the morning. Morning came and got derailed by a lost library toy. I was certain I could find if I just kept looking.
Two hours later….not so much.
(BTW: Anyone have any ideas where a toy hammer might hide or where a little kid might forget they left it? The library wants it back.)
I’ve placed a fifty cent reward on the hammer and a book that is erring on the side of lost as well.
Hopefully with the help of somewhat-motivated kids, they’ll show up. If not I’ll just have to return the play-pack sans hammer and see what grace the librarians bestow.
I like to imagine them as benevolent keepers of all things grand and mysterious, buuuut I doubt my regard and penchant for idealizing will save me my dollars.
I should really donate to the library anyway. I use it enough.
But perhaps we will swear off borrowing toys for a while though.
Where were we?
Oh yes, the digressions of my day and why the writing doesn’t always happen.
Well, the great library hunt was the morning, and then came lunch and all the demands of feeding small people.
And then it was time for a little outside time to exercise the small people who had too much energy from being allergic to the rain yesterday.
So out we went.
I brought my giant bag of books, because obviously I need seven books, two notebooks, and a few pens to use while sitting in the driveway to make sure they aren’t taking extravagant risks of life and limb.
Yes I know I could just go inside to get a different book if I needed it. I just like carrying around the stacks of books. I have always done this. I just didn’t have instagram when I was 11 or 14 or 18 or 21 to prove it.
SO anyway, of the eleventy million options I read 8 pages and then returned the book indoors (non-sensical, I know) and grabbed some yarn, because my ears were cold and I imagined crocheting something would solve that problem.
Cue: beginning of my new scarf and more forays into distract-able living, naptime, dinner time, bed time, and now finally writing time.
So my days don’t always go as planned. Some days I get the things done and I feel so productive. Some days I try and it just doesn’t work. And sometimes life feeds me endless urgent(ish) distractions, but maybe eventually I do get that thing, even after all my rabbit trails.
Realizing this inability to control results is actually an important part about whole family living. With all our people counting on us for various things, we can’t always pursue these things that we love without some major adjustments to our own expectations.
And it’s not a one time adjustment. It’s a series of adjustments that allow us to continue on in the projects we want to make time for, even if the munchkins are a little ridiculous or life is a general loop-hole with no rules.
Most of the time the adjustments are minor. I do realize large gaps of time to myself are kind of out of the picture right now. But that’s ok. I can adjust and realize that even writing some sentences here and there, running however much it works, and crocheting in unexpected moments works. It does. It all adds up into feeling like I have meaningful ways to be myself in my life.
But sometimes those adjustments are pretty major. I didn’t write much on my blog here the last couple years, because I didn’t have the emotional energy after dealing with the difficulties of life and some unexpected trauma. But even those quieter moments are part of it all, it wasn’t quitting completely, it was just acknowledging the need for quieter processing. Still learning, still paying attention. Just not writing out loud. It looked different, and felt different, but paying attention to what works is important. I couldn’t just force it.
Now I am feeling like I’m finally on the other side because I am writing again. Because somehow that is part of how I am whole and myself.
It’s the ebb and flow of life. I always want to pin down one way to do something, just so I know I can get it done and get it done right. But life just doesn’t work that way. And life that is combined with stay at home parenting, definitely doesn’t work that way.
It’s a mix of creativity, activity, pauses for breath, changing plans, and near constant interruptions.
But interruptions = more room for creativity, right?
If so, us moms might have the corner on that market.
This month I am joining the #write31days community to explore the idea of the Whole Together Family because I believe we get be who God created us to be – together. Find the whole list posts here or click on the image.