findingtimetowrite

Thinking, writing, thinking about writing…

Last Day of Holidays!

SnowCastlesNot that I am ungrateful for the time I get to spend with my children…

But perhaps I simply try to cram too much into the holidays…

Perhaps I overestimate their and my capacity for wonder, social interaction and quality time…

Perhaps I underestimate the amount of time it takes me to write even something as simple as a blog post, a book review or a letter for French administration, let alone a novel. OK, maybe the French letter is marginally more complex than a novel.

Perhaps there are other things weighing my spirit down and it’s really not fair to take it out on them.

Anyway, I’ve tried to pre-empt this by gearing my reading and writing matter this month towards the light, easy and colourful. Among my reads: Cara Black, Sarah Caudwell and Ben Hatch’s hilarious road-trip across France.

AwesomeLegoAnd I try to tell myself that somewhere, somehow, amidst the repeated requests to do homework, to tidy up, to come down for dinner, there might be some golden childhood memories building up…

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6 thoughts on “Last Day of Holidays!

  1. Marina Sofia – I’m sure you’re helping to make some wonderful memories. No matter the little and big annoyances, children do need their families, and they do benefit greatly from time spent with their parents. Doesn’t have to be magical, but it does have to happen. And you did the right thing to go through the effort to make it happen.

    • You are very kind, Margot. Magical is certainly not the way I would describe some of our moments together – but unstructured lazing around is also good for the soul. So I hear!

  2. Marina Sofia, you sound like a very good and thoughtful mother. I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that area.

    • Very kind of you to say so, I do hope you’re right. Or, as a friend of mine says, ‘They will blame you for everything you’ve done or haven’t done anyway.’

  3. I think it’s so difficult to balance one’s needs and responsibilities with one’s children. I remember moments of feeling resentful, and then shame at doing so. Now my boy is 23, and when he’s home sick as he has been this month, I’m so glad he lets me take care of him. Why can’t it ever be just one job at a time? Here’s thinking of you getting it all done. With peace.

    • Because life is too short to ever to just one thing at a time? The resent/guilt/overcompensating/feeling needed (with all the good and bad it entails) is such a mother thing, isn’t it? Thanks for understanding.

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