Haven’t written for ages.
No real excuse. I have just been bogged down in the mundanity of life as a working mother.
The endless piles of washing, drying, ironing, putting away, finding more dirty clothes strewn on the floor and therefore starting again.
The daily planning of meals, shopping for food, putting away of food, the cooking of food and the constant sound of complaining about what food was cooked. Why do they have to eat EVERYDAY???
The ceaseless emptying of the dishwasher, only to walk into the living room and find cups and plates everywhere, to go back and fill the dishwasher and start the whole process AGAIN.
Cleaning the floor – then to have everyone walk in with wet, snowy, muddy shoes AND STAND ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR RUG! And then look surprised when I YELL at them.
So I haven’t been inspired to write anything uplifting or positive or mind blowing. Winter in a small half finished house – is just messy, dull and endless.
Hubby has put up some cabinets in the bathroom. They are very nice and he did a good job. And we all thanked him profusely and congratulated him on a job well done. He beamed at the praise.
I don’t get that feeling. That feeling of totally completing a job and knowing that it’s finished forever. My jobs are never ending, eternal, perpetual, without end. I never get that smug sense of satisfaction, because I know I will just have to start all over again the next day, doing all the same things, yelling all the same things. And nobody particularly notices I have done anything and nobody congratulates me on a job well done.
Ah the mundanity of it all…..