There are days when I wonder how other people do it. Really. They keep blogs — multiple blogs sometimes — they do 365 photo things, they make, they sell on Etsy or their own shops, they design, they Twitter, they Facebook, they work out, they… they… they…
I am so impressed by them, and jealous, and… I beat myself up a bit. And then I remember: generally speaking, these people I am admiring so much don’t have toddlers. Plural toddlers. And toddlerdom is a whole different world — much more so than I ever realised it would be. And multiple toddlerdom… you know, M warned me that two is actually exponentially more difficult than one, and I refused to believe him. Twice as hard, yeah… sure… but exponentially? Surely he exaggerated! Turns out, he was telling the truth.
And I take some comfort in that, because I want to do all these things that I see others doing. I really want to. But I am all go from the moment I wake until… oh, about 10pm — and it’s none of it about me. It’s making food, and giving baths, and wiping bums, and wiping noses, and breastfeeding, and changing clothes, and chasing, and tidying, and cleaning spills, and stopping fights, and teaching patience, and teaching speaking quietly, and more food, and more bums, and more noses, and more tidying — always more tidying…
And then it’s 10pm. M is asleep on the couch, the telly is flickering away in front of him, and I have seen to E1 for the last time and I think — I think — she is finally going off.
Make? Do? Design? Photos? At 10pm? No, tooooo tired. Sit and have a cup of tea. Watch some rubbish on telly. Maybe blog, a bit. And collapse.
But someday, I will be busy making and doing. I will be productive. I will be fantastically productive, slicing through my days in straight lines, with drive and purpose. And I know that when I do, I will look back at this crazy, chaotic, toddler-driven time… and wish it all back again.
Quite right too.