So I am officially not working at the moment. Kind of.
Basically, I have been and will be spending most of July at home with my six-year old son. This means I’ve put most of my moneymaking activities on hold. You could call that a summer vacation. Sure, I’m finally getting enough sleep and working out more regularly, but I’ve got a six-year old to keep entertained.
Have you spent an entire day with a six-year old recently?
My six-year old is quite opinionated, needs lots of physical activity, has recently picked up picky eater skills, and loves to have someone to play with. I am a proponent of being bored. There is nothing better to stimulate creativity. But I do believe that our time with our kids is limited. I may not have many more chances for play. Within a few years, he won’t be so interested in spending time with his mother.
What does that mean? I haven’t figured out the best time for writing for me. I’ve gotten less done this month than I had intended. That second draft of my novel still has not left my head. And on top of it all, my house is not as clean as it should be.
So what have I gotten accomplished?
Well, we did go see the new Minions movie. I finally bought a bike (and while on a family bike outing recently, I realized that this was the first bicycle I have owned – mine all mine). We’ve been going biking and on picnics. We’ve been watching movies, working out, eating lots of fruits. I’ve made several jams – strawberry, blueberry, and red currant. We got (temporary) tattoos – yes, even me. I succumbed to the trend of the season – metallic tattoos. Not that I needed convincing. I took the first opportunity I got to buy some.
But it isn’t all fun and games over here.
Over the weekend, I realized that somehow unawares I had slipped back into depression. It’s been a while since my last bout. To tell you honestly, I thought depression was done with me. I thought it had taught me all that it could. I guess I was wrong. I know I have the tools, experience, and training to deal with it, so it doesn’t feel a threat, but it does make functioning difficult.
How do you get out of bed in the morning when you just cannot fathom it?
I think I’m coping fairly well. Somehow, I manage to get out of bed. I do have feelings of guilt that maybe I am not the best mother. I’ve gotten so good throughout the years at hiding my depression (even from myself at times) that I don’t think my son has noticed. I’m willing to bet that he feels something is off, though. I am doing the best I can, but I can’t fight off the feeling that even doing the best I can is not good enough.
I’m trying to be gentle and loving with myself. I’m trying to take care of me right alongside my son. I’ve done long baths, face masks, and the aforementioned temporary tattoos. I’m trying.
It’s hard when summer has lost all its color.