I recently decided to take part in a writing challenge. I thought it would help me get in to a routine of writing every day, posting to my blog more often, and connecting with other bloggers out there. Sounds simple, right?
Cue game show style sound effect – ‘ba bowm’.
Sounds great in theory. But in my house, impossible.
I get a wave of inspiration or an idea for an article. But then our one year old decides that it is a great time to climb on the couch and try to reach the stuff I had placed up high, thinking it was out of his reach. Or I catch him about to launch himself off the back of the couch. Or it is morning tea time and the kids are hungry. Or I become aware of a beeping noise and realise one of the kids has pressed the pause button on the washing machine. I then wonder how long it has been paused for, when it already take two hours to do a load of washing, being a front loader. Or I’m in the middle of reading a story to my kids. Or there is just stuff that needs to be done – housework, dinner preparation, dogs walked, you name it.
Or I miraculously manage to sit down at my desk. But the ancient laptop decides it doesn’t want to play. Or it lets me start typing, but then I get distracted by the kids. I grab my notebook instead and scrawl away points I’ll come back to later on and flesh out. But when I get a chance to come back to it later on when the kids are in bed, my brain has stopped working properly and I have no idea what I was rambling on about when I read my notes.
I grab those few moments of perfect opportunity when I can to write. Therapeutic typing. To turn my random thoughts into words for you to read. Some of them will work. Others won’t. I want to write and post more often, but I want to be happy with the quality of it. I want to write stuff that I hope others will enjoy and have a laugh at. I don’t want to start writing stuff like, “today I had a cheese and tomato sandwich for lunch”. Who wants to read that? Who has time to read that kind of stuff? Not me.
So a writing challenge is maybe not for me right now. Perhaps when I’m feeling less like a hamster in a wheel. When the stars align. When my kids have grown up and left home. Perhaps then. But for now, I’ll continue to juggle.