Here and now

{Photo by me}

Sometimes I have no time to do the things I love.  If I'm not tired, which is never, I'm backed up with housework, which is not the same as being up to my neck with mindwork (usually a good article I have put aside, or the email message from a lost friend,whose reply beckons 30 minutes of my life.) Most times, however, I'm simply struggling to complete a thousand things, which I've began simultaneously in a effort to multitask.

I tell myself if I had the time, this would be an award winning blog.  I would redesign, and go on a one woman-one blog, journalist exploration of themes I'd like to write about, and share.  My pictures would be edited and published in a flash.  My posts would not linger in the draft section for months. And my stories would capture the stumbles and tribulations of womanhood in modern times. Writing used to be second nature. Although never easy, it used to put me at ease.  Like a cold smoothie in a hot day; writing was my treat.  Now, it seems something I must conquer everyday.  Insurmountable and intimidating.  I started this blog when I was pregnant, thinking my creative juices would be flooded with hormones too.  But, it was the opposite effect.  A downward spiral of pregnancy symptoms, followed by a lack of sleep, then REAL lack of sleep when baby was born, and finally, exhaustion in so many levels.

I read many blogs, and every time I find a post that reminds me of something I want to write about or clicks a light on in my head, I immediately find an excuse to avoid writing. Why?  Fear. Insecurity. Tiredness.  Lack of drive.

I don't like this person, I don't even know her.  I want to start writing.  Something.  Anything.  Consequently, and things are always consequent, I decided to start writing. Period. And posting more about the things I want to write about. Period. The changes will be subtle, but permanent.  I will make time for my writing.  And this blog will log those hours.  Making an effort to live in the here and now,  instead of the If I or when I, will be an exercise in perseverance and submission.

Domestic Goddess Who?

Where has time gone? I can't believe that my baby girl will soon be 6 months old. As a stay-at-home mom, time is sometimes the enemy and creeps on you without mercy. So many things to do around the house and yet, so little time. The Sahara desert has taken residence in my bookshelf. My precious books haven't been touched in months. The Baby First Album remains empty, so does my wedding one for that matter (shameful, I know). Alas, the domestic goddess in me is suffering from domestic mortality.  Even the plants are fighting an untimely death (the weather doesn't help). I tell myself that when she is old enough for daycare, I will reclaim the projects and ideas that are simmering inside my head eager to see the light of day. Until then, I just need to come up for air periodically and wait for the tide to turn.

But what mother would be so foolish as to wish for their children to grow up quickly? That's just insane right? Well, sometimes in the deep,dark sleep-deprived mindless nights, I secretly wish she was 10 years old and someone I can have a partially intellectual conversation with about, well, time.  I know, this too will have its time in the future, so for now I just have to sit tight, keep coming up for air and continue to guard the domestic goddess's torch in hopes that she'll be willing to shed some light into the struggles of managing time and creativity around a 6 month old baby, who happens to me my life.

Blogs I'm lovin'

I recently discovered five new blogs which have sparked a sincere entrepreneurship spirit in me.  The authors are all parents of little children and share similar life interests with me.  But they are highly creative and highly committed. Check them out, I know you will love them too.  

 1.  Minor Details

 2. Making it lovely

 3. Prudent Baby

 4. Diaper Style Memoirs

 5. Oh Happy Day

I leave you with a classic little rhyme made of nursery print cards that can be framed, used as cutout pieces for your kids or even hung on a wall.  You bet I will be singing this to Emma Lucia during her bath.

 Via DiaperStyleMemoirs