I haven’t had a full nights sleep for nearly three years; the house resembles a condemned creche; there are never enough hours in the day to get through half my list of chores, let alone write anything interesting.
My friends without children often ask “what do you do all day?” And I say everything and nothing.
I am food to my twin boys who have decided solids suck and they’d much prefer to just breast feed all day and all night long. I spend much of the day trying to catch them before they land on their heads while furniture surfing. (In fact, I failed miserably yesterday while I was distracted unwrapping a birthday present and one now has a black eye.)
I’m a horse, I’m a row boat, I’m a see-saw to a feisty two and a half year old who turns simple tasks like dressing and getting out of the house into a saga. She will only pee in her potty if I bribe her with jelly beans. She will only eat dinner if I sit with her and read her a book. She will only go to sleep if I tuck her two favourite sleep toys under each arm (in the right order) and hum her the chorus of Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah. But first I have the mission of tracking down her prize toys which she always manages to hide in the most obscure places possible.
I climb into bed in a heap at 11pm, get woken up at least two times in the night by teething babies and then I’m out of bed again at 5am chasing them around the house.
Don’t get me wrong, I cherish my 24 hour occupation. But as much as I love playing Mum, I need more than cuddles, nappies, endless poo and whingeing to sustain my brain.
So I guess to answer my own question, this project is my version of time out. Even if I spend five minutes writing entries in my head that I never get around to sharing, it gives me an outlet to think and dream.
Will our Airstream ever make it out of the driveway? Is it realistic to travel with three little kids? Only time will tell. But in the meantime I’m going to dream big and write a blog goddamn it, even if I’m the only one who reads it.