Monday, July 12, 2010

Long time between drinks or 'long time, no effort'

Well, didn't my undertaking to write in this blog regularly really take off...

'Excuses, I've had a few, but then again, to few to mention'... with apologies to Frank Sinatra for bastardising his famous song lyric for the purposes of my self-flagellation. There are extenuating circumstances of course; moving house, um, moving house... cyclone... which had absolutely no impact on us and through which most of us slept...

So the actual reason I haven't written on here for so long is fear. As I shall explain to you, dear reader/invisible silent therapists.

I have become a Twitter addict. Reading them moreso than writing them as I have very few followers. In recent weeks I am finally beginning to feel normal(ish). The baby/feeding hormones that have shrouded my ability to think logically (as much as I ever thought logically) have begun to lift and I am damn thirsty! Thirsty for knowledge, information, ideas... anything my hitherto deprived neurons can get to mull over. And Twitter is perfect because it allows me to follow any number of people in any number of areas and get tidbits of news, information, gossip etc. I can feel I am across all things but only need to have the attention span to process this information in 140 characters. Perfect!!!

Recent highlights include that infamous night before K-Rudd was ousted. Twitterers were on the ground, advising of any and all news they could glean. Jokes flew thick and fast - it was exciting (in a 'schadenfreude' kind of way). Any night of MasterChef and QandA is perfect for the mind-separating act of watching and Twittering. And with QandA - rarely do the very witty, accurate or ascerbic tweets make the banner along the bottom.

Anyway, I digress... (as I do, which is another reason there's so few blog entries, but that's for another entry/confession).

But then there are those I follow with their own blogs, and I click the link to their blogs and then I read. In admiration, enjoyment, interest, enthrall but mainly complete and utter envy. I envy their ability to write like they know what they are talking about. Envious that they are 'where its at' and not atop a hill in a rural area of a regional city (which with technology as it is should mean nothing). I envy that they are able to take the time to sit down to research, investigate and compose. And its not like I don't have that luxury. I do. But then I think of all the things I 'should' be doing; as a mother, a wife, etc etc etc. And this isn't imposed on me by my husband or kids. Purely self-imposed. I really have to stop thinking of writing as being too self-indulgent because I need to do it to get the practice to get really really good and to write a best-seller and become extremely wealthy... or something to that effect.


I probably have that 'first born child syndrome' that I see in my own first born. H loves Thomas the Tank and he and his brother have a box full of track pieces. At 4 years of age we think that he should be able to put the track together himself. Use his imagination, learn spatial reasoning, logical thinking, yada yada yada. But of course, just like his mother he sees the tracks that have been made by his Dad - really impressive ones with bridges and hills and multiple tracks that wind around and join up. He looks at the big picture and tells himself and us 'I can't do it'. So after months of getting frustrated with him and telling him he should be able to do it, I sat down and explained that he just needs to take it piece by piece, and slowly it will form itself. That with a little practice and patience you will get there.

'Aha' moment for Mum. So cliched that I can just see that being acted out on some sitcom or Hallmark production movie. But its true. I look at all the highly intelligent, beautifully crafted pieces of writing that others have produced and think to myself 'I can't do that'. And I won't be if I don't start, piece by piece, paragraph by tortured paragraph. I have to give myself the right to fail - that thing that parenting experts say we should allow our children in order to grow to be resilient adults.

So, in all that, while I parent (by the seat of my pants) my own children I am also parenting myself. Learning those things I missed the first time round.( Thankfully the physical functioning things are all down pat!)

You're welcome to read along, shake your head, nod your head, laugh or not laugh, whatever. But if you have the time to provide a little feedback then I'd appreciate it, whatever it is.

Meanwhile, I'll be off chasing my two barefoot ragumuffins down the road, as they chase the neighbour's dog, through long grass potentially crawling with poisonous snakes, spiders, grumpy bandicoots...

Wish me luck!