Taking an hour

It's an overcast morning this morning and I'm sitting at a lovely cafe, alone. Waiting for a coffee surrounded by music, friendly chatter and the scraping of dishes. 

A few shots of the garden in early Autumn. 

Grant and Angus are unwell with a tummy bug, though on the mend. I took the opportunity to wake up early and slip off to church alone. I have been badly needing some time by myself, highlighted by increasing feelings of impatience and crankiness. So today, I grabbed my laptop on my way out and vowed to take an hour between church, getting groceries, visiting the chemist, the farm supplies shop, petrol for the generator and Officeworks. It is actually bliss to be able to sit here, watch the world go by and touch base with you all. 

The yurt, while it is a lovely little home, feels like it is becoming increasingly smaller. The children are growing bigger and naturally take more space. Elsie is into everything and there is nowhere I can go to be simply alone in the quiet. It is part and parcel of being in the thick of mothering, but living small complicates things further.

In time, we hope to build a deck with a couple of rooms on it, which will help. But that is something for future me to enjoy. Current me needs a breather. 

I can always tell when I need a break. My inspiration and motivation to live more simply drop off. More and more "make do" meals find their way to the table, I find myself browsing online for things I don't need or even really want. Disposable nappies creep into my trolly, the idea of trying to keep up with another load of washing simply too much. Instead, I end up using that time saved mindlessly scrolling online. Ironically looking at others living more simply then I feel I am. Fortunately, I am pretty good at not buying the things I look at, but it is a habit that leaves me feeling somehow like what we have isn't enough. Which is of course, utter rubbish, and a reminder of the power of marketing. And very few people live simply perfectly all the time. 

As I sit here this morning, I realise I should have taken a morning for myself two weeks ago. I'm not sure about you, but I am often better at seeing others' needs than recognising my own. I am also not as good at going gently on myself as I would like. I suspect it is common amongst mothers. 

Thee reality is, we have recently gotten over a house of coronavirus, Grant has started a new job, the weather has been appalling which has made it impossible to keep up with the washing, we have had the boys Ganny visit for a few days which was wonderful though very busy, and currently, the other adult in the house is unwell. If there was ever a time to take advantage of shortcuts, now would be it. If a friend were to lament her perceived failures to me, I would of course point her to all the things she is doing right and wonderfully. I would remind her to give herself grace. But somehow, often it seems our inner dialogue speaks the opposite to us, and we have to take the time to stop and pull ourselves up on it and re-direct ourselves onto a kinder path. 

So dear readers, I wasn't sure what I would write to you about today when I sat down. It seems it has been a somewhat rambling post of setting myself straight and clearing my head. 

In an ideal world, I would manage to live waste-free, grow all our own food, cloth nappy my baby at all times and cook all our food entirely from scratch while supporting only local co-ops. There are definitely families who manage that, and they are utterly amazing. But alas, I am not one. Instead, I'm a bit disorganised and usually run 10 minutes late. I drink too much coffee and I get overwhelmed when things pile up. Sometimes all our meals are wholesome and cooked from scratch with home-baked goods in the kids lunch boxes, and other times, they are less so. Sometimes the floors are dirty, the washing basket is overflowing and instead of catching up on tasks while Elsie sleeps, I give in and join her, breathing in her sweet scent, marvelling at her dimpled hands and knowing it will mean there is porridge or scrambled eggs for dinner. Whoops. 

Today, present me is thankful for past me who cooked double last night, meaning we have sausage goulash for dinner and self-care looks like taking an hour, in a cool cafe. Alone. 

But now my tank has a little fuel in it, it's time to tackle the list of jobs and head home to my family. 
What are you doing to fill your tank? Do you need to take an hour? 

Here is a favourite article of mine, I re-visit it from time to time and I thought I would share it with you again, I'm sure I have shared it before but it felt relevant today. A mediocre life

Much love, 
Emma
xx