I’ve been slack on the blog lately.
Some of it’s been work. Some of it’s been life. But most of it’s been … sigh … something … else?
I can’t concentrate. Social issues are getting me fired up, particularly when they’re close to home. (Confusing statement? Sorry. I grew up in Bendigo. They’re planning to build a big mosque. Some people aren’t happy about it. Many of those people aren’t even from Bendigo.)
I’ve started four new books recently, and none of them have taken. I’ve sat down to write or edit my stories, and almost immediately lost the thread of my thoughts. I’m in a funny space. I’m okay; I’m happy, and enjoying spending time with my kids. And my head stays screwed on when I’m writing or editing for work (phew!).
But otherwise, I’m feeling like Austin Powers, looking for his mojo.
So I’m going back to basics. Instead of forcing the books, I’m re-reading old favourites. (Harry Potter series, anyone?) Instead of forcing the words, I’m spending more time at the piano.
Instead of forcing the blog posts, I’m just not writing as many. And instead of sticking to some pre-determined schedule of posts, I’m sitting at the computer now to write about the thing that still gives me my mojo.
I keep getting hit with those moments. Those moments. Those ‘my kids are growing up so fast, STAAAHP IT ALREADY’ moments. Those ‘my kids aren’t going to want to cuddle me and kiss me and tell me their secrets forever’ moments. Those ‘I wonder if any other families do these funny little quirky things?’ moments.
Those moments. I’m loving the quirks at the moment. Here are just three of them.
Whenever my kids and I walk near a pay phone, they sprint for it, jump inside and ‘call daddy’. They can’t reach the handset, so they just yell in the general direction of the phone.
“HI DADDY! HOW ARE YOU? ARE YOU HAVING FUN AT WORK? WE’RE ON OUR WAY TO THE SUPERMARKET! MUM SAID WE CAN GET A SPECIAL TREAT! WE MISS YOU! BYE DADDY!”
Every pay phone, without fail. And they walk out with the biggest smiles on their faces, excited to have just ‘talked’ to their father and told him about their day so far.
If we head out, the kids have a ritual when we get home. I can’t remember how it started, but it’s all but set in stone now.
The kids get out of the car or walk up the driveway, open the gate, then check the back of it for snails.
Once the snails have been observed, waved at, told about our day and, sometimes, relocated to the grass in the front garden, it’s time to check the mailbox. It could be 9.00am, 6.00pm or the weekend, but we still have to check the mailbox.
If there is mail, it gets ‘delivered’ to the house. The kids divide the mail between them (or each hold one end of the envelope, if there is only one item), walk to the front door, and push it underneath. I then open the door, and they pick up the mail they’ve just delivered and take it to the kitchen.
Each night, after the usual bath/teeth/hair rigmarole, it’s time for bed. We read one story for each child (my son usually chooses The Worst Princess, while my daughter is currently reading us The Wishing Chair Again), then sing three songs of their choosing.
After our three songs, my son will kiss, hug and squeeze me, then say, “‘Kay, time to go, mummy.” My daughter will whisper, “I love you soooooo much. See you in the morning.”
And with that, night-time is mine. Except for those nights that I don’t want to go, and I hang around in the shadows to watch them a little bit longer.
What are your quirky family habits? And what do you do when you lose your mojo?