If Only

 

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I'm having one of those marginally odd psychological moments.  You know the ones where you just can't seem to keep mentally still for more than a few seconds before the thoughts come crashing down, causing major distraction from whatever task is at hand.  Usually, upon returning from the US, I find myself dreadfully homesick and pining.  This time, not so much, if for no other reason than the enormity of the year ahead taking up most of my last 2 remaining brain cells: one baby, two weddings, a possible move, unemployment.

Needless to say, my mind, like my house, is cluttered. The usual list of laundry/dishes/cooking/child wrangling is intermixed with the 'everything else', and the "where to start" tends to be lost amongst the "if onlys". You know the ones...those pining thoughts that distract one from getting the task at hand finished:

If only I had a couple of extra hours sleep, I would be a happier, better mother and could get everything done that I needed to do, plus build lego spaceships and teach my children French*.

If only I had a better camera, then I could take amazingy clear and crisp photos in the terrible (lack of) light we have this time of year and wouldn't have to spend so much time editing.

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If only I had a bigger house, then there would be room for all of our stuff and I could keep it cleaner and I wouldn't feel embarassed when people come over and, importantly, people would stop asking when we are going to move.

If only I could work the sewing machine properly, then I could make more of the kids clothes and 6 bags of donations wouldn't be sitting in the car.

 

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If only I'd done the dishes/laundry/picked up the lounge earlier then I could sleep/knit/write.

If only I could be more present in my life and happy with the amazing abundance I have, then I wouldn't write slightly irritating blog posts about the things I don't have.

 

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If only I hadn't  let the children eat cookies in Ellis' bed, then I wouldn't have to wash all of the bedding just 2 days after I put clean sheets on...

Perhaps I must just accept that my mind, like my house, is just cluttered by nature.  Accept and move forward.

 

 

*I don't speak French, my mind is a strange place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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