My sister who is eights years my senior chooses the word ‘relentless’ to describe me as a child. Now I guess this could be a good thing but considering the way in which she chooses to say ‘relentless’ like ‘REEE-LENT-LESS!!!!! I’m not so sure. I was the type of kid who always tried to understand why I couldn’t or wasn’t allowed to do something or what ‘winded’ meant which would inevitably happen if I continued to run with a stick in my hand. In my pursuit of wanting to ‘understand’ I did discover what winded meant amongst other numerous lessons that could have been avoided had I taken my mothers advice?
I also asked myself plenty of ridiculous questions that would serve no purpose except occupy my questioning mind for that little bit longer. I would wonder how much land it would take to contain as many trees as there are hairs on my head and how much the land mass would change depending on the type of trees used to symbolize each hair on my head. What on earth??
To be more succinct, for someone who loves creativity, I get bogged down with thinking, analyzing and weighing up my options. For someone who is focused, I’m indecisive. For someone who is spontaneous and hates routine, I get a little perfectionistic. For someone who loves writing lists, I forget them when I need them. For someone who wants to help people, I constantly put my foot in it. For someone who loves to communicate, I become paralysed with shyness.
And one thing that I find extremely frustrating and I mean the epitome of frustration is being interrupted in my thoughts. With three children aged 5, 4 and 2, you can appreciate that interruption is the title of my life. Meet mother, she is parent. Meet child, he is interrupter.
When my eldest was 4, he asked me a question while I was driving and I took a little time to think about the answer during which I uttered a long ‘ummmm’. He politely waited a little and then asked, ‘Are you thinking mum’? Don’t you just love it? He had to interrupt my thinking to see if I was thinking. This is my excuse for forgetting my half done shopping lists, leaving clothes on the line two days (okay four days) in a row, all those tonnes (well note quite tonnes) of rice I’ve burnt and the dirty faces on my children before we’ve even entered the shops or library or wherever we’re headed. Nope, I’m not a multi-tasker, and nope, I’m not a super mum. My favorite pastime is thinking, mulling over ideas, visualizing something and creating – all in my head. I live in my head and now my head is spilling onto this blog. Oh, and my name is Simone.