Finding small spaces to write in

Today was a typical day for me and my little ones. We got up and rushed the girl to school and then the two little boys and I settled into our routine of play, cleaning, writing. This is how it works. I play with them, read to them, do a jigsaw, stick some stickers, swing them, whatever they like. his morning I painted their faces so they could be tigers. Then when they are full of attention I turn my attention to the cleaning. Get the kitchen straight. This usually falls at 10am and I can listen to Woman's Hour whilst I do the dull tasks. I find cleaning so boring. I like it to be be tidy and straight but the time spent doing it seems such a waste, so at least listening to the radio makes me feel like my mind is doing something.

By then the boys will be depleted in attention, their game or whatever they were doing has lost its shine and they find me. I may have had ten minutes to drink a cup of tea and check my messages. Today I opened the poem I am working on and glanced at it. Read it aloud. The boys wanted to collect the eggs and we needed logs so we went out for a while. It was bitter but they seemed happy, the face paint was rubbing off and their cheeks were flushed.

Then lunchtime and some child friendly television. Blankets on the sofa, thumbs in. This gives me nearly an hour to sit in the kitchen and nibble cheese and crackers and work on my poem. The afternoon was filled with a shopping trip for food, dinner, bedtime routine and now I am sat down at last, 9pm, finally giving this poem some more attention. I will be tempted to sit up late, just so I can work on it but I am tired out.

This is no way to be a writer but it is my way. Finding small spaces to write in.

love

Burning with desire, even the children notice the cut in the air and sense the unsaid meaning in everyday conversation. Parents have to remember they are lovers sometimes.