I originally wanted to blog to share all of the DIY crafts I'm constantly working on. I get a lot of questions about how I do them, so I started to photograph the steps I was taking, and eventually that led to The Patchwork Paisley. However, I am starting to feel a bit burnt out. It's not easy to maintain and support the new blogging friendships I've made, promote my blog, and write posts worth promoting, plus I tend to overdo it. I'm resisting the urge right now to click over to PicMonkey and bedazzle one of my pictures or create a fancy title so far, (if you see some frills on the finished piece, PicMonkey won.) Sometimes after hours of blogging, and we all know that doesn't mean just hitting the keyboard- we're talking Google searches, networking, html fixing, self-teaching and complete immersion in blog land with no bread crumbs to find your way back out, and complete loss of time, space or the goal you had set for the day. I feel like a reluctant, long time smoker: bloodshot eyes, achy, frustrated, guilty, threatening to give it up, but always coming back to it with an insatiable need-and this week has been tough. I've finally hit a wall. Picture me throwing down the virtual paintbrush, then looking over and seeing heavenly light shining on a pen and paper. Nothing else. No markers, or crayons, fancy paper or glitter.
<Cue inner dialogue>
What's wrong with keeping it simple sometimes? Not everything you post has to look pretty. You might actually have made a few e-friends who want to read what you have to say and not just be dazzled by all the #eyecandy.
So I had an epiphany. It dawned on me that it might actually help to just get my thoughts out. I have always been able to sort my thoughts best in writing. You would think my artwork would do that, but I think I just realized myself how much I've always enjoyed it. I have 5 diaries full, cover to cover, from 5th or 6th grade, all the way up until a few years ago. I has been a while since I just wrote. I often hear bloggers say they started their site to answer the call to write. My reaction to that is always, "wow that's great." It's kind of like my need to create. But wait a minute- I really like writing, or I used to, and right now I feel like I'm reconnecting with an old friend. One of those friends that's always there, that you can pick right back up where you left off with- no resentment or awkwardness. Those are the best kinds of friends. Easy, relaxing and no need for all the pomp and circumstance.
So tonight I retreated to my favorite spot in the house, my attic studio after declaring some Mommy Time while the hubby wrangles the girls. This is the spot I used to spend hours or entire days in just making stuff. It's cozy and messy and I'm surrounded by color and art supplies, listening to the Mumford and Sons station on Pandora. I pause it every once in a while to make sure my 3 year old isn't yelling for me, or the baby isn't crying, after all I'm not on an island, (oh to be on an island) but for the most part I am secluded in my little nook. My goal? Just write. Vent. Try to finish a post in less than 3 days.
|My little attic hideaway/nook/mom-cave/heaven|
Did I mention it has been a rough week?
Violet started preschool on her 3rd birthday. She posed for pictures, walked through the school doors as happy as can be, waved over her shoulder and was gone. She would only be there until lunch and I was anxiously looking forward to hearing how her day went. Well, her first day wasn't the best, and she was all sniffly when I picked her up. Every day since has been an increasingly bigger struggle in the morning. I feel horrible allowing someone to half-drag her (as nicely as possible) into the school building while I turn around and walk away from my heart, my cute little blue-eyed, cherub-faced heart that is hurting because she wants her Mommy. I have cried, thrown things and essentially pitched my own mini fit after leaving her. I pacify myself with an iced coffee, some blogging time (if the baby allows) and try not to think about her ------->
Luckily, it has gotten a bit better. Apparently, Violet and I have dealt with the transition in similar ways. While I have my coffee and laptop, she calms down with some circle time and play time. A bit of distraction and both of us are all smiles when pick-up time comes. I knew it could be tough, but I did not anticipate the sheer amount of emotion that is spent between the hours of 8 and 12 every day. It is exhausting. Mentally and even physically (hence the current Mommy time out and this
I have restrained myself from sending the teacher a million notes, emails or phone calls. It is SO strange as a teacher myself being on the parent side.It's a whole new perspective that I don't think I can adequately describe just yet What I do know is that I am learning here too and it is plain to see that the intense reality is: when raising children...some things will never be simple.