When everyone has had enough sleep, tummies are full and happy, nobody is biting or pulling hair, things seem like they are good and all is well with the universe. Today, so far, this has been the case. I am afraid to even acknowledge it, since we all know how quickly things can turn. But for the moment, babyland and mamaland are copacetic.
The only photographs I’ve been taking lately, with the exception of various food photos, which I use my husband’s camera for, are with CameraMorte. I’m feeling obsessed and excited about the images it captures. Am currently trying to categorize and organize the images so to assemble a few short volumes of printed books via an online self-publisher. We’ll see how it goes. CameraMorte has its own website now, but there’s nothing on it. I’ll still put a link on the side of this blog you can check periodically to see if I ever get around to compiling anything. It is difficult to work on this betwixt naps, but I’m trying.
One of my big issues is that since I’m the person who is home all day, I’m kind of expected to do a bunch of the housework in our dusty little nest. This is fine, and I do believe it is a fair trade for the most part for not going to a job every day. Granted, of course, that what I do is a huge job with the girls, but I do usually have about two hours whilst they nap where I could maybe clean something for one of those hours, leaving me with an hour to myself. The rub? Well, I feel like my creative endeavors are more important, or at least take precedence over household chores. Does this make me a bad person? I’m not sure it makes me bad, but I do kind of sound like a brat, eh? Even to myself. My tolerance for filth is directly related to my desire to spend my time on more eclectic endeavors.
The bathroom needs cleaning. I guess I should go up there a half hour before I expect the girls to wake up and do a little scrubbity-dub-dub. If only I were rich I’d just get someone else to do it. But I’m not. So shut up and pick up a broom you big baby.