In a rush?
Most days start with a flurry of school lunch making, bag checking, attempted showering and not looking in the mirror once. (If you'd told me I'd ever leave the house without at least looking I would have snorted a little rudely. Once.)
One day last week, Adam drove the big kids to the bus stop and Ivy to daycare. I stacked up the car to spend the day in the commercial kitchen baking for a local market on Saturday (which went well, thanks!)
They'd gone when I remembered it was library day. I rushed around searching for the library bags and the books. I found most of them, not all. Threw myself in the car, drove to bus stop, caught them as they were getting on the bus, amused all the neighbours also waiting with kids at bus stop (it's a virtually unsealed country road – we don't leave them unsupervised at the bus stop in case they vanish up the paddock.) Remembered I'd forgotten the keys to the kitchen. Rushed up the road again. Fetched keys. Down the road. Remembered I'd made extra biscotti so had run out of eggs the day before. Back up the road.
By the time I was in my favourite place (I adore the commercial kitchen, adore it) it occured to me how happy I was.
Because as much as I appreciate we should all slow down, treasure mindfulness and measured days, I love chaos. I love visitors arriving and leaving in shifts. I love having an uncertain number of extra children around and phonecalls and emails and stuff to do.
It doesn't mean I'm running away from anything or filling up space because I have issues.
I just love doing stuff. Lots of it, all at once.
I get energy from people, not from being by myself. This is probably why I love doing markets so much – it's concerted hours of being "on", chatting to hundreds of people about mostly completely random stuff. Heaven, really.
The unconsciousness of busy-ness is part of it's appeal.
How does someone rushing through their day have any clarity or memory of any moments at all?
Are they a blogger?!
(And sometimes blogging itself inspires them to think up better solutions.)
You're marvellous, you lovely folk. Thanks for dropping in here and contributing to the chaos.