OK. I have emerged. And someone told me it’s just 7 weeks till christmas. What? What happened? Last time this year I was a heavily rotund pregnant lady with a lust for oranges and bratwurst. This year I am coming up to a one year anniversary of being a mother. I have NO idea where this year has gone. It’s true what they say. Woosh! Gone. And man, I’m aching. There have been periods in this year where I’ve felt like a greasy, isolated pile of baby poo. I kid you not. It’s been a tough year. A year I could never have imagined when the nice lady at the hospital told us that there are TWO people in my belly. What? Two? But here we are on the other side. It’s getting easier. And I’m writing again – just a little bit. I’ve missed the blog, and it feels good to be back. I’m making plans for new projects for the new year to come. Taking a class in pottery is one of those things. It’s something I have wanted to pursue for a long time. Who knows where it may lead? Well, it’ll lead me out of the house for 2 hours by myself for starters…:)
Quite often I find it hard not having a clear path, professionally. I envy those who knew at the tender age of 18 what they wanted to do with their lives. I’m 31. Next month I’m going to a creative writing workshop. Then, who knows. I had an abundantly tearful and clear conversation with my (wonderful) husband the other day. I found myself panicking about ‘just’ being home with the twins. And that’s probably what I’ll do until they are three. Or even four years old. Finding a balance is hard. Finding time for your brain. Time for my bursting need to create, make, do art, write. Even just be alone for 30 minutes. Hell, just 5 minutes. It’s hard at times. And then the feelings of selfishness washes over me like a familiar wave. The ocean of parenthood. Intermittent and ruthless. I love being with the babies though, don’t get me wrong. But I owe it to them, and to myself, to follow that momentous urge I have to do more, to create more, to do everything I can to find my path. And I will spend these days, months and years carving it out. Twins by my side. Always.
Almost a month in Norway. Probably the best summer ever. Travelling with 7 month old twins will always be a challenge, however well prepared you are. Let’s just say that not all London underground stations have elevators… So when you have luggage, a double pram with tired, warm twins and you have to travel during London rush hour, and you’re not even half way there yet… You get the picture.
But we got there. And we had 30 degrees celsius for three weeks. We had family with extra hands to help out. We had a beach near by. We had midnight sun. What more could you want?
As we’re growing in confidence, we’re venturing further with the twins. Last weekend we even hopped on a train to take us to a neighbouring town, driven by promises of fish & chips by the beach. We’ve been granted some lovely days of sunshine and warmth, and the Australian in the house vibrates with excitement. The BBQ is out, and so are we, hurrah!