My youngest daughter is now in Kindergarten. It's only for three afternoons a week, but it's hitting me harder than it's hitting her! Don't get me wrong, I think it's a good thing, and after the initial tears (me, not her) I'm even quite excited about it. No, the problem now is that I don't know what to do with myself!!
Yes, there are two half finished novels on my desk waiting to be written, and another waiting for an edit. So, technically, I do know what to do with myself, but instead of working I've been wandering around the house wondering what's missing. Until it hit me this afternoon - the voices are gone! Not the ones in my head, they're always there (characters from my books people, not wee green men whispering at me!). I'm talking about the voices of two tiny girls. My girls are talkers. Endless chatter from the moment they wake up until they are sound asleep, even then it doesn't stop them - they often talk in their sleep too. I'm used to fighting against the chatter in an attempt to figure out where my thoughts start and theirs end. As I've said before there are days when the only thoughts in my head come from my children. Usually my thought process goes something like this:
Me: What will I make for dinner?
Daughter one: "Mum, my Barbie's legs are stuck."
Me: What will I make for Barbie?
Daughter two: "Mum I need help going to the toilet."
Me: What will I make for Barbie in the toilet?
See what I mean?!! It's going to take a while to get used to having my head space back. In the meantime, there's always my husband kicking around to disturb my thought process. I've only just managed to train him that knocking on my office door every twenty minutes to ask how the writing is going is rather counter productive. Now I need to figure out a way to get him to entertain himself. That man can't do anything without talking it through - actually, now that I write this, I can see where the girls might be getting it from!
Anyway, it's a whole new era. My oldest is in school. My youngest is in kindy. And I am free to write. So tell me, why is it that now I have time to write, it seems that writing is the last thing I want to do? Is this what procrastination feels like? It's the beginning of the slippery slope isn't it? I may never finish another novel! There's only one thing for it - I'll have to raid the kindy and get the voices back...