I have been sitting at this computer on and off all morning attempting to string cohesive thoughts together, only to be incessantly interrupted by my 4-year old. My original plan for the blogs I intend to write is to focus on reclaiming one's identity and passion in the midst of Motherhood.
After unsuccessfully writing all morning, I have decided to portray just how difficult concentrating on one single personal interest really is while trying to still be a good Mom.
On that note, I will write some gibberish for a bit just to see how long it takes to be interrupted by the boy-child. This phenomenon also occurs any time that a Mom is on the phone for more than, say, 30 seconds. All of a sudden, the child who was perfectly content while munching on fish-shaped crackers and coloring at the kitchen table desperately needs your undivided attention... NOW. As I sit here, I am also reminded that although they may not always verbally assault any lone time you may find, they have other ways of derailing your attention. Bangs and squeals from the other side of the house will draw your focus away from whatever non-child-related activity you are engaged in just as quickly as, "Mom, mom, mom, mom, maaahhhhm!" will.
I'll be right back. I have to find out what he's banging on...
It was just the dog's dish. Poor Moki.
From here on, I will insert the verbal intrusions of my dear, sweet child as they occur. I'm trying to ignore him becau * Mom, look, it's a sword and a gun! kpew! kpew! kPOW! * se I feel that it's important that he learn that Mommy really does need
Okay, he's quiet for a moment again. Where was I? Oh yeah, mommy alone time. So, though I don't think that Moms should exclude their children * The sword said whack-a-mole, so I whacked it and it said BUTT! * from the activities which they like to engage in
Speaking of alone time, the young, sweet one has gone downstairs and though I appreciate the alone time I have been granted by said child, I am very worried about the state of my living room, because as I recall, he had something in his hand which he referred to as drumstick... he also mentioned whacking things... I'll be right back.
Well, isn't that nice? He is sitting on the floor petting the dog nicely. Just when I think that he's nothing but a chubby-cheeked ball of destruction, he goes and does something sweet like that. Now, I can't remember what point I was going to try and make. God! Have I become so accustomed to interruptions and multi-tasking that I can't think straight otherwise? I'd like to think that my mental capacity is resilient enough to weather the intellectual strains of Motherhood... but, I'm afraid that's not true.
Okay, it's coming back to me... reclaiming identity and passion. Ummm. Honestly, I have no advice to give on this subject. I suppose that anything I write will only reflect the difficulties that I hope I'm not the only one to struggle * Mom, can you move your coffee? * with. When this topic first came up, all I could do was to comapare the Mom Me to the pre-Mom Me. I used to be spontaneous, creative, carefree and daring. Not so much anymore. It occurred to me that comparing my Mom-self to my pre-Mom self was defeating. Rather, I should try * Hey Mom, are we gunna go yet? * to envision what I
Okay, there goes my train of thought again. Simple