Apparently School of Mum turned 3 today. I wouldn’t have had any idea, except Facebook memories showed me a post where I shared the blog with family and friends for the first time. It’s pulled me back spiralling into a weird fog of nostalgia and memories today.
School of Mum was born out of some kind of desperation. I was not pregnant with this baby for 9 months, but it did give me a sense of hope that I hadn’t felt in a while. I was always a diary kid. The one with the lock on it, followed by the password protected Word documents on a floppy disc? Yep. I wrote stories in my head and on paper – my were a constant narrative.
After Tom was born, my thoughts were nothing but please sleep, why haven’t you pooed in 3 days? Oh for the love of sleep, won’t you sleep!? I really needed to get my brain moving beyond that again, for fear of it becoming stuck on repeat and unable to play anything else.
I know I suck at blogging these days. I don’t do it enough. I don’t do it well enough. I don’t take as many photos or update my social media. It doesn’t really matter to me, because this baby basically nurtures itself most of the time. It is as independent as a cat. It’s happy for me to leave it alone for a while if I’m busy doing other paid writing work (which it helped me get) and it’ll still greet me with a purr when I come back to it. I always come back to it. Eventually.
Today I walked past Jamacia Blue and saw the magazines sitting on their tables. I thought about stopping for a coffee, flicking through the magazine and seeing myself within its pages. I thought about sitting down and feeling like an egotistical rockstar for just one minute. Except then Jeremy started whinging in the trolley, and there was chicken in that trolley that needed to go home and get into the fridge. The thought vanished as quickly as it had come.
In that article I mentioned that I put the kids first at the moment, and I do. Sometimes that can be hard. Sometimes I get a good idea, or I have a deadline for my content writing job, but I can’t do it until the kids are in bed. It’s all simmering under the surface, waiting for…the kids to go to school. Perhaps. Or maybe I’ll go back to teaching. Or maybe I’ll find a way to incorporate the two. I’ve never been good at not having a solid plan, but without it comes freedom and that’s exciting.
While you’re here won’t you enter the giveaway for awesome educational products? You know you want to do that and check out our toy room transformation here.