I must be sleep-deprived or something. I'm not lying awake tossing and turning noticably more (as I was when I was really struggling with depression again) but I am frequently waking after strange dreams, or having those strange thoughts pop into my head that I have to get up and write down before I forget because they for some reason seem REALLY important... I don't feel TIRED until late either, and then in the morning I don't want to get out of bed - lol and this is before the anti-depressants are even starting to come out of my system, so that doesn't explain anything.
But Morgan, after a couple of weeks of waking up in the early hours to ask for her nappy taking off, has started sleeping longer again and taking the nappy off herself when she wakes up. None of this really explains the thought which I am now intending to blog about. Or maybe it does.
When things are bad, I write a lot. I need to pour it all out somewhere, and this is MUCH better than raising my voice to the children (although usually both more or less happen together when life is tough). When things are good, I have lots of pictures and happy thoughts and other stuff to share. I have tales of what the children are doing, and craft activities, and in short can give a very odd impression of what life is really like.
Is my blog REALLY what my life is like? Not that I do much editing (I'm sure you can tell). Just that when I read back, my whole life seems to be all or nothing, crash and burn or flying high. Earth-Mother-Goddessy and smug, or pathetically falling apart and begging for someone to come make it simple for a while.
Yet the boring quiet normal stuff, in some ways, is more real - and make up much more of the picture of my daily life than the dramas.
Is the ordinary stuff boring, or do I just fail to see the importance of the mundane? Answers on a postcard... Or maybe not, eh? ;)