Happy Thursday one and all. My silence has been as delicious as I had dreamt of, my spirits are lifted and my ear drums have stopped bleeding from the incessant arguing that has been the last 2 weeks of my life.
Aannndd RELAX. Ok, maybe not quite relax, there’s the whole parental duty/fail thing, you know, like when you sleep with one eye/ear “open” from the day you give birth, even if there are no kids within a mile radius of you. Or you open the fridge to find the kettle in there because you’re so sleep deprived it was the logical place leave a boiling vessel of water at 3am.
That’s my kinda adulting these days, not often successful, but always eventful. If I have the correct number of kids by the end of the day, its a win. On more than one occasion they aren’t necessarily the right kids, but the numbers add up so I’m happy. I know you’re supposed to see the joy in everyday, but let me tell you, 3 sugar fuelled hooligans “hilariously” launching themselves down steps on a mini tractor, does not bring me much joy. Neither does a trampoline in desperate need of bathing in WD40. I swear I can still hear the squeaking now….
I have a week filled with seeing some of my most favourite people, I am super excited. Not only because its going to drown out the trampoline related tinnitus I seem to suffering with the smooth tones of TAKE THAT 😍🙌🏻 but because I am going out, on a school night. Wowers Trousers, this is very exciting….
Although, tinged with some sadness. I shall not be able to wear my PJ’s. And I likely will have to wear a bra. I am coming to terms with this fact, and promise to continue to be an advocate for the Freedom Fun-Bags Army*, but fear of giving myself a black eye whilst I’m pulling out my best 90’s dance moves is encouraging me to comply with the norm. I am not normal, but I am fairly sure this been established.
I have been toying with where to take this project of mine next (not the manifesto, but the waffling pages you are perusing AND SHARING MY HILARIOUS WEB BASED MUSINGS WITH EVERYONE YOU KNOW subliminal marketing right there)
The name HARTS is derived from my initials HRS with ART in the middle. That degree of mine has been put to fabulous use, can you tell? My art is a huge passion of mine, but writing to you guys is so good for the soul, my paintings lay unfinished. So with that in mind, I am debating the fact that Motherhood meets life before life meets art. And as a result, I am trying to find my own way in this world again.
Keep your fingers crossed for me and mainly my iPad as the changes begin as it is at risk of becoming a frisbee. Duck, just in case,
*See previous post for the beginning of my manifesto.