I'm sorry I've gone through the whole holiday season without a picture or even a generic pc 'happy holidays' or 'happy new year'. You should know that I actually blog all the time in my head. Particularly while I'm doing the dishes. And it seems I am always doing the dishes.
I would love to write more. No, rephrase that: I need to write more. Seriously, you think I'm talking to you, but really I'm working towards good mental health by blathering on here. But, life - don't talk to me about life - just keeps on getting in the way. Somedays I think I'd rather talk about life than actually live. Make that most days.
But, let's pretend, if I didn't have an infant and a preschooler to care for every busy day and through every weary night, would I blog more? If they didn't have places to go and people to see, and did not have to extend gross amouts of mental and physcial energy trying to get the 4 yr old to and from a school only 4 blocks away? How about if I didn't have the minimum of two additional kidlets during the week to fed, water, and do paperwork for. Or a whole other job making stuff. Let's pretend that there isn't a whole adult male who actually wants to spend time with me (enter requiste 'what's wrong with him anyway' comment here). Let's pretend I do not have two lonely cats that jump into my lap for ear scratches the 2 minutes a day it exists. Let's get rid of the living things - the plants to water, seeds to plant, the sprouts to water twice a day. Would I write more?
There is the never ending housework also that needs to be gotten rid of. I can't believe how much time this place sucks up each day. The dishes, the laundry, the constant picking up from the 3 foot high human tornado. The meals to make. The taking out of the compost. And the yard, with the snowing and icing up, and the car, with parking and unlocking the human door and the lifting garage door and driving and closing garage door and opening human-door, and closing and locking human-door. More time for blogging?
While we're at it, definitely need to toss the educating of self, the courses and assignments, and the reading to keep up on what's happening in the world. And all the maintainance required to just exist in our culture, particularly the stuff one has to acquire, buy, maintain, return, exchange, recycyle and throw away.
And let's say that perhaps I am not exhausted from my 5 hours of sporatic sleep a night, and the crazy making holidays, and my nearly crippling guilt from not having the time to keep up with my dear friends. And let's pretend that January isn't basically a mental and emotional shit storm for me as the world once again cracks open with grief.
Then perhaps I would have some sort of time to blog? Well, after I watched the 3 seasons of Dog the Bounty Hunter I have on dvd here. But then, yes, time to write.
But what would I write about?
Bring back the wee ones. I would be missing them anyway. And The Man, he's sort of fun to have around. And the kitties. They are as much a part of this family now as I am. But the stuff to do, the house to keep, the crap to buy - that can stay disappeared forever.
And after I write a little about how insanely wonderful the people I live with are, maybe I could sew a little something too.