It’s not you, it’s me

I’ve got two types of friends: those friends I think about all of the time but don’t call/ text/ ring/ see anywhere near as much as I would like. Yet when I do, we’re still us and carry on in complete understanding of what’s kept us apart. Then there are friends and acquaintances I really like but the relationship isnt anywhere near developed enough for me to feel anything other than anxiety surrounding the unanswered texts/ calls/ emails/ Facebook messages that are somewhere near the bottom of my to-do list. (If you are one of those lovely people, know that it isn’t you, it’s me and unless you are on fire, really just consider me trapped under the heaviest thing known to man – working parenthood, no disposable income, no family support in proximity.)

And then there’s WordPress. My relationship with WordPress SHOULD fall into that first type of friendship – hey, I’m the person I’ve known the longest and I’m just talking to myself, right..? So why, why, why, why, why, why, why does my blogging relationship fall into the second category – the category that keeps me awake with reproach that I havent got around to yet until I’m driven from my bed at 4am to reply to unanswered email from 2011? And to blog.

In truth, I’m often wide awake and most clear sighted and purposeful at 4am (or at least I think I am, a psychologist examining why any of this matters to me at all would probably have something more to say on this.) My dad said to me back in my 20s “it’s the things you haven’t done that you regret.” Hmmm. I’m not sure he had my inbox in mind, but there you are.

Anyway, I used to talk about books and reading with my toddler didn’t I…?

So, now here’s the trouble really. I’ve barely read anything at all in the course of the last ten days. The Monkeyface ticks by and dutifully trundles over with a book for us to read with her, but as is the case with toddlers, they tend to be the same ones over and over, and there are spells when there are no reading “fireworks” and I’m not too sure really how much more mileage I can get from the Gingerbread Man. But we are venturing into The Elves and The Shoemaker (truly, is there a lovelier fairytale? People help each other, noone gets eaten, there aren’t any witches to report to the NSPCC and everyone’s lovely) and I have to say I thoroughly approve. But that’s about it. I started reading a novel about 8 days ago, but I can’t even remember what it was, that’s how much it grabbed me. I’ve said it before (hell, I repeat myself all of the time in real life, so why not here) but the blog is that window into how in control things are and where I am in my one woman mission to try and get some goddam order around her. (Answer – way off.)

The Monkey is so curious about books and stories now, that her need to hear stories is very self-driven (Mummydaddy can you read me a stooory please.) It’s just as well…

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