Somewhere, a bot trawls this site. Deeming it not spam, a little switch is flicked and suddenly I’m searchable. My name, linked to my writing, out there on the internet.
I imagine old school friends randomly Googling for me and pulling up this site. What would they think? But then, maybe I’m the only one who Googles for people to see what shows up.
I remind myself to breathe, this is what I wanted. A personal side of the professional me. A declaration that I am a writer. This is what I do, I write.
***
Sitting down at my laptop, I open my word document and sit down to write. Two sentences in, my daughter asks for food and my son gets himself stuck under the futon. I press save and sighing, I close my laptop. Working with the children around is impossible.
I put my computer away and grab some food. Laying down on the floor we all eat together. The children take turns clambering over me and soon I’m covered in sticky kisses and drool.
It’s not the work I’d intending on doing, but it’s my job nonetheless. I enjoy this as much as I enjoy the silence of writing.
***
Blearily I stumble out of bed, summoned by the baby’s cries. I trip over imaginary things as I walk into his bedroom and lift him up for a feed. He snuggles down into my arms and snuffles at my breast before settling in for a feed. His eyes shut almost instantly and I contort myself towards the nightlight to read my watch.
5.30am
I should stay awake and work while the children are sleeping.
I really should.
My head drops forwards and I doze lightly while he feeds. I’m still incredibly tired.
The baby snuffles and sighs deeply waking me up. His feed finished I put him back down and leave the room.
Stumbling again, I head back to bed. The warmth of my partner envelopes me as I snuggle into his back. He mumbles a little and then lets me rest my cold feet against his legs. He’s nice like that when he’s asleep. For a moment, I regret that I’m not working. Only for a moment though.
My pillows are soft and soon my feet will defrost. Giving into my need for more rest, I let sleep claim me.
Soon both children will be awake and I can attempt to work through breakfast.
Up until the point when they need me and I end up on the floor, covered in sticky kisses and drool.
Again.
