Parenting is difficult. I had no doubts of that really, but I never really prepared myself for the amount of time that I would spend arguing about seemingly meaningless things. Brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and getting dressed hardly seem like negotiables. Nor, really, do finishing chores, reading, or playing quietly before you earn screens. However, that is the world that I am living in.
I’ve wanted desperately to make more art since I became a single parent and yet, it is more difficult to find time to make. The time is there though. I have more time to myself. That is why I’ve felt really frustrated that I haven’t been making as much as I would. It’s only been recently that I’ve discovered how much pressure I put on myself to perform as a parent, so much so that I don’t perform particularly well as a parent. And so, when I arrive at this mysterious increase in time, I am exhausted. I am doubly exhausted after the mental battles that I must play constantly.
Of late I’ve been letting the art seep in though. It is still difficult, but isn’t it better if something is difficult and there rather than difficult and mourned for? Yes, I wish that I had the time and space to make that I did before, but I do not. I will not until my children are a bit older or a bit self reliant. In order for them to become more self reliant I must start to let the artwork and the reading and the “me” elements seep in more. They need to spread and grow. I wish to be like this burro’s tail plant; growing in and around wherever I need to be.