I know, I know. I haven’t been writing as much as I could be. I remember in the early days, I was at it almost everyday. Ha! Sounds like the early days of a relationship. It’s all very exciting to start with and you just can’t bear to be apart from your lover. And then routine kicks in. Life kicks in. Screaming Baby kicks in. And before you know it, being nice is a real effort because you really have tried to ask him politely not to belch or practice anal opera in front of the baby. Thirty times. In the past week.
excuse reason for my blogging fast is because I have been working on my personal statement for a university application (!). It’s a little new to me as Aussies are exempt from such strange formalities. We just get the grades, apply away, and get accepted or not. No need to write essays about why you make the best candidate for the course, and what sets you apart from the other 300 applicants vying for a spot.
Sigh. I realise I’m having a bit of a moan here. It’s because I am a little tired of mulling over word choice as there is a 3000 CHARACTER limit.
The process is a little daunting for me. Before I started writing the statement I was procrastinating like I’ve never procrastinated before: Amazing M was adamant I get her the gorgeous love curtains from Zara Home which I happily obliged.
M was telling me through Makaton that she needed a cute Santa outfit for Christmas in Germany *
And it was imperative to clean the mould off the ceiling above the shower. And attend play dates for Amazing M (who is now walking, btw!!!). And do some internet Christmas shopping and card printing. And iron sheets. I mean, who doesn’t love to luxuriate in the freshness of clean and crisp seven zillion thread count Egyptian cotton sheets? And take M swimming. And I really wanted to try out a few recipes from a cooking mag. Never have I been such a productive hausfrau in the last couple of weeks.
When I finally admitted to myself that I was scared out of my knickers of rejection I felt a weird compulsion to start the essay. Fear is a funny thing. Once you recognise it and accept its presence, it loses its grip over you. The strange fatigue that I experienced in the weeks of procrastination just vanished. I know, it could have been all that running around, but I was getting a good eight hours of sleep and yet I felt floored by 9am. Just goes to show running away from your fears zaps your energy more than fifty shades of kinky sex. Lesson learned: in the words of Susan Jeffers, “Fight the fear and do it anyway”.
I guess taking the first step in anything daunting is the hardest. And once I got going, it got easier. I’m not loving it but I am hoping by this time next week it will be completed with confidence and pride. Please pray that I do! And praying that I get accepted would be nice as well.
This delicious mother has gone through eight and a half hours of torture, an emergency C-section, breast fed for over a year**, had 10.5 months of sleep deprivation and is still on speaking (and loving it up) terms with her husband so I think fear can just hang back in the dark shadows, along with ego for the time being.
*I am lying. We are not that advanced at signing yet.
**still breast feeding.