Posted by: Hannah | 11/08/2016

November

For the first time in five years? maybe six? I am not participating in NaBloPoMo.

I feel oddly guilty about it. Guilty, and sad.

The fact is I’m busier with my day-to-day life than I’ve been in a long time. My dayhome is full with a mixed-age group (and more littles than I’ve had in the past couple of years). I don’t get a naptime break anymore as the older kids don’t sleep. Harry catches the bus at 7:10AM so I’m up at 6:15 to keep him company while he gets ready, and as he doesn’t go to bed until 9PM I’m quite literally mothering for fifteen hours a day.

It’s fine, most of the time. I don’t exactly mind it. I’ve hit my stride in the dayhome and except for Ron and George’s constant, never-ending bickering I feel like I’m handling parenting OK too. There’s just a lot to juggle, and by the time I’ve set aside “mom” and picked up “spouse” I’m maybe an hour away from falling asleep. It doesn’t feel fair or sustainable to spend that hour blogging every day for a month.

Last night I was awake for most of the night. Most of the dayhome parents have a head cold and while the kids seem mostly fine, the adults are dropping like flies. I’m fighting it as best I can but my throat was too sore for sleep, so I made a mug of tea and sat up, wrapped in a blanket with our new kittens in my lap, watching the fireplace channel and wondering about what the world will look like not just on November 9th but in the months and years ahead.

I haven’t been writing at all lately and just trying feels like that first day at fitness boot camp all over again. The muscles are rusty. I’m gritting my teeth to get through and just hit ‘publish’. I’m not exactly enjoying this. My focus is split because I’m supervising free play, making sure the 16mo doesn’t get scratched by the kitten he’s enthusiastically investigating, wondering why Harry’s teacher emailed to say “hi, are you Harry’s parent/guardian?” after I’ve confirmed that and in fact communicated with the woman twice, hoping the kids’ dental appointments go well, trying to remember everything for our big family vacation to-do list, watching the clock, bracing myself for a long damn day, trying not to stress about an impending teachers’ strike that could completely bollocks our winter… my brain is the proverbial long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, and I just don’t have enough left over to write anything people want to read.

 

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Responses

  1. It was really nice to read you, if that’s any consolation. : )

    I am in knots over the strike situation. Fully in support of teachers. Really not liking the twisted perspective current gov’t is trying to spin. Smarmy. Grateful to be at home should the Things need me, but very stressed at the impending doom if strike action should come to pass.

    The HS Thing has a chance for an amazing trip with band. Like a trip opportunity *I* have dreamed of, but have never had. We’re talking trip of a lifetime, here, and with a strike looming, how the hell are we supposed to decide? How can I scrimp and pinch for a trip that would be cancelled if a strike happens and we don’t know where our $ would go at that point. Details are scant at best. 😦

    Blarg!

    Right now I am most thankful for the sun coming through my living room window and blinding me with its light and the fact that there is a gluten-free sub waiting for me in the fridge.

    Thanks for reminding me I, too, have a blog. I should probably do something in that space soon, huh? *succumbs to overwhelm*

  2. Your reasons are all ironclad. And you blogged today. If you come back, I’ll be here for you. If you don’t, you’ll move forward with something else.

    • Thanks. Today if I blogged it would pretty much just be the words “we’re fucked”.

  3. A sneaky non-Harry name crept in there, not sure if it was intentional.

    I fully understand the blogging malaise/struggle. I keep having ideas of posts I want to write, but then life. I feel split half a dozen ways and I don’t have any children at home (just a very clingy puppy and a poor, neglected kitty) so I can only imagine how hard it is for you.

    • It was NOT intentional, thank you for calling my attention to it. See? I am rusty!

      • My dad frequently gets my brother’s name wrong (and that’s his actual name, not a blog pseudonym…). He runs through the names of all the family, including the dog, before accidentally landing on the right one.


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