MotherSoup

See that sandwich? That’s me, that is. Or at least that’s how I feel I must have looked some time back - full of juicy potential.

But you know what happens when you try to eat a sandwich like that. Either your hands or your mouth have to do a serious bit of squeezing down. The filling squelches out of the sides and the two bready bits flop together in the middle.

That’s how I’ve been feeling recently. Everybody’s had a nibble until there’s nothing left of me in the centre: Various relatives’ visitations (can’t begrudge that, we see them so infrequently), family illnesses (just got to put a brave face on it), school asked for help on something (fancy, if you can’t find time to support your Offspring’s school…) the list goes on. All vaild; all things I believe in; not one of them in isolation is overly demanding, but together they have combined to mean that so many of the value-added things I’ve been trying to do for my own kids and - dammit - for ME have wilted, died or timed-out from neglect.

So, Mothersoup, why are you wasting time whinging on your blog right now, instead of getting on and doing them? Because I’m bushed. Because I’ll have to root out the dead and timed-out projects before I can reach the rest of the stuff and that is pretty depressing.

Easter - however much you’re the believing type - holds a message of hope, and of things turning around when they had seemed impossible. So here’s wishing everyone a hopeful holiday, and a chance to find the things you want. I’m hoping for a bit of space - and I’d swap a good few choccy eggs for it…