I have formed a deliberate distance between myself and the ‘real world’ recently. I tried to think of ways to excuse my lack of blogging or reasons why I had no desire to write. My blog that usually provides me with consistency and hope was the punch bag for my blows which is why it has been left alone for now.
I will try to be radically honest as I believe that is what makes us bloggers ‘likeable’ we give a realistic insight into our own little life’s.
So… it all started when found a moment to myself and decided to play my unloved guitar, which had been purposely placed in the corner of my room leaning on a pile of papers and unwritten note books. No sooner had I started to put words to the music I was playing, little Francis came toddling in, his feet pattering on the hard floor.
“mummmm … mummma” he called out “nooo mumma nooo”
The not so subtle hint for me to stop what I was doing and assert my attention back on to him was shown in his concerned facial expression. A deep frown followed after the mumma and noooo. Taking his hand I followed him over to see what he wanted to show me so desperately.
And there in front of me were bricks and plastic cups formed into a chaotic pile with cowboy Ned placed right on top.
I looked at him with that proud mum look – a slight head tilt and soft smile.
Francis’s pile of bricks was important over my time but there was a deep longing that I couldn’t quite ignore.
Later that night after our night time routine came to end,the house came a sudden stillness that was unfamiliar to these walls. The calm energy was pulling me closer to the sofa insisting I echo the inactivity – of course I did so without hesitation.
I slumped down into the sofa wondering what I looked like on the outside as my body slipped deeper and deeper into the arms of the chair. My general reluctance to move made me feel slobbish’ and I suddenly felt uneasy.
Had I started filling my life with habits and routines caused by the strong desire to get every thing right and fulfil a purpose I had given myself? Have I lost my selfhood? and if I had would it ever fully return. I then reminded myself that these are questions I have asked my self for a while now, without the answers to satisfy my wondering I feel lost again (and blogging about it again)
With these thoughts hanging over me irritating my tranquility, I get up from my warm spot and go back to my tatty old guitar. Being overly conscious not to make too much noise I start playing again. My voice sounded weak but I was hoping that was because I was trying so hard not to disturb the peace.
Regardless of the sadness in my lyrics and the weakness in my tone, it felt so good to sing again each time I was remembering how much I used to love music and how important it is to remember the qualities you have underneath motherhood.
I am by no means making motherhood out to be boring and monotonous, but I find that I forget who I am when I focus on the daily routines. This is often why I have difficulties writing these days and why I tend to leave my blog unattended ignoring the real reasons I started blogging in the first place, which was to keep track of my parenting memories and of course to expose a little of my quirky life.
Ironically Francis woke up soon after I played guitar, I wasn’t in the least surprised as I must have got carried away.
I cuddled his little body which was limp with tiredness but aware enough to feel my arms wrap securely around him. His eyes flickered slightly and lips pursed together twitching every now and then, I stroked the palms of his soft hands and hummed songs to him faintly until he drifted back to sleep.
Leaving his room I sat back down in my warm cosy spot on the sofa and remembered that doing the things you love don’t always have to require recognition from others. I love writing and my music related hobbies will always be a huge part of who I am. Motherhood is a challenge and rediscovering a sense of ‘selfhood’ is equally challenging but I will write for my own well being and sing for that little man who enjoys the soothing songs I sing to him at night and for me that means I have made it right?