The more conscientious fans among you (hi Mum and Dad) will notice my posts have become a little more sporadic of late. I’ve worked really hard to post every day, or occasionally account for two days in one post, but it’s been a bit of a struggle.
I’m often writing it at 11pm when I should be asleep ready for Xander’s 5am wake up call, and I’m starting to scratch around for content. Which I’m sure hasn’t escaped anyone’s attention. Given we do sod all on any given day besides home-school, walk, eat, work, repeat, I’m having to be quite creative with my chat.
But since the start of May I’ve taken on two new clients - one planned and one as a favour for someone else who has too much on their plate (don’t go there) - so I’m fighting for every single spare minute of the day.
And yesterday, inevitably, it came to a head. Not for the kids, who are pretty consistent in their rejection of education and their constant desire to be entertained, but for me.
I came off a work call to find Bella still staring at the same cartoons on the tablet as when I left her an hour previously. The only change was she had sort of dissolved off the sofa and was lying half on the floor with her face a few inches from the screen.
And, of course, when I gently said it was time to turn it off and why didn’t she come and help with some jobs in the garden (I know better than to be hasty in removing the screen - she has to reacclimatise to Real Life) there was still a momentary breakdown of quite some volume.
She is so unbelievably bored and I don’t know what to do about it. If I’m not working I’m cooking, or tidying, or doing laundry, or an online shop (I got a slot!) or sorting Henry out with his school work, or feeding Xander his lunch, or changing Xander….. I know people say they have no time but seriously, there is no time.
They say boredom is good for kids, it forces them to engage their imagination, but I feel there may be limits to that theory.
My foolproof barometer to Bella’s mood is her thumb, which she is now sucking almost permanently - a sure sign she is disengaged.
And Xander is suffering much the same treatment, and though he is oblivious I feel no less guilty. He is plonked on the floor or the grass and I only pay attention to what he’s doing when he crawls too near the open patio doors. He turns one in two months and I genuinely cannot remember more than one hour of the past 12 months.
So something has to give. I have to stop doing the unnecessary things that take up time that I could be spending on more essential things so that I can free up 10 minutes to pay attention to my kids.
And inevitably the two things to go are my blog and my exercise.
Blogging is now a when-I-can luxury, and exercise - which I’m going to claim as a borderline essential - has gone from 30-40 minutes a day to 15-20 minutes.
Tonight I was pretty pleased that between us we’d got them all in bed by 7.30. I left the big two in bed listening to an audiobook each (parenting cop out #127) and set off for a run, finally able to relax knowing another day of This was behind me.
I should have known better. When I got back they were both in the kitchen. Bella had a raging thirst. And then stubbornly drank the entire glass of water I gave her even though I could tell she was struggling with it. This was accompanied by an exceptional hunger which I resolutely ignored.
Henry had come down to see why Bella had come down and was acting out his enquiry through the art of mime. Which looked a lot like dancing. He was now thirsty too (all the dancing). At this point, as I was trying to get my breath back and downing a pint of water, Andy announced he was going for his run. So I took them both back upstairs and all but gaffer-taped them back into bed.
I went to have a shower. I stole a good 15 seconds of unnecessary me time by standing under the water with my eyes closed trying not to think about anything. Within 30 seconds there was a tap at the door and Henry came in to say he’d forgotten to brush his teeth. A minute later he came back in to say goodnight. Again.
I got out of the shower and slumped on the side of the bed, the silence in the house echoing in my ears. Until it was broken by Xander crying. He never cries at this time. I couldn’t go in and see him with a towel on my head as it freaks him out so I had to quickly rub dry my hair and go and soothe him back to sleep.
A few minutes later I was drying my hair properly, mentally running through everything I had to do tomorrow, when Bella came in with a quivering lip. She’d not sung happy birthday to Bunny, her cousin, who turned four yesterday. That was because at the time I was trying to record them singing it they were fighting over who was going to hold Xander in the film. So in the end I just got Henry singing, Xander looking bemused and Bella wailing off camera.
Until 8pm when, of course, she had to sing Happy Birthday to my phone. It was a battle I didn’t have the energy to fight so I let her. I’ll be very surprised if that footage ever sees the light of day.
So that was almost an hour of what should have been childfree time, clawed back bit by bit by the children. It was selfish of me, really, to think I could have stolen 60 minutes alone, even when it was officially After Bedtime. Silly me.
As I write this it is 8.30pm and dinner is simmering on the stove. But I also have a document to write for a client, the house is a pigsty and I think I can hear footsteps upstairs. And - for crying out loud - I’ve just realised I forgot to put rice in the pan so I have been simmering nothing but water for 15 minutes.
Give me strength.
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