I have three kids whom I love very much. They're all getting older, and, one would think headed toward the sullen and mute stage of adolescence. The headed toward adolescence part is true, at least for my older two, but, the "mute" part? Not so much.

My middle child, especially, is a talker.

No seriously, that child can talk. And talk, and talk, and, talk, and talk.

And, he doesn't move when he talks, either. Forward motion of any kind ceases when he is talking, and, his prime talk time seems to be 3 minutes before we're supposed to head out the door. He's 11 and I've had to physically pick him up and move him to the car sometimes on school mornings, or, we'd never get there.

Some days are worse than others, though. Last weekend was particularly bad.

So…. I woke up this morning and I KNEW something was up…. That black things on wheels mommy was packing my clothes into last night is now standing up right by the door…  so is my back pack…. We must be going somewhere…. Hope it’s to Daddy.  I like going to daddy.  Mommy looks very worried.  Oh well, no time to worry about mommy, brekkies is ready.

I’ll just sit here and eat brekkies.  Why is mommy running around like that?  How many times is she going to check she has her phone.  Wait Grump’s (grandpa) is saying something….  Something about my seat?  Where’s mommy going now?  Let’s ask Grumpy…. “where mommy?”  Oh ok, Grumpy says she’s going downstairs and will be back now.  WOW Uncle L is up, and I haven’t even had my afternoon lala’s yet…. Something is defiantly up.  OH LOOK, mommy is back.

But mommy

I woke up at 4:30, switched on the kettle. I notice there is no milk or bread, what will my kids eat today? My stressed husband ate all the leftovers some time during the night. I just wish God will show me how to help him. I miss being held at night especially during winter.

Anyway, I grab my boots, my hubby's fleece jacket and pop out the door. Its cold and pitch dark. Stop at the garage and get what we need, grab a couple of disprins. I have been fighting this headache for days now, as the guy behind the counter rings up my items I tear open the disprins and shove them in my mouth. I pay him, thinking that it is daylight robbery having to pay R20 for 2 liters of milk. I dash to the car and drive home.

Start running my bath water, switch the kettle back on and make my self a deserved cup of coffee. Enjoy that with a cigarette (bad habit I know). Then I turn my focus back on my beautiful family, I make some cereal(cheapest way to keep the hunger pangs at bay). I then feed the cat and tend to my bath water. O my goodness, its almost 5 o'clock and I am still in my pj's. I jump in the bath, jump out and get dressed. I hardly put any makeup on, like my mother used to say, as long as you have mascara and a bra you will be ok.
I am dressed and ready to go to work; it is 5:33 I will make it in time.

As a working mother, one of the biggest issues I have is how much quality time I spend with my daughter. It's been quite a different kettle of fish over the past month as I've gone freelance and so I've got at least three days a week that I spend exclusively with her.

However, as my freelance career starts to kick off, and as I desperately pitch one feature idea after another and try to develop my own industries, I'm finding that I have even less time during the day than I did before. At first I was focused on spending every minute of the day doing fun things together. I got into a routine of going outside, playing with the dog,  sliding climbing, jumping, swinging then some reading followed by a tea party lunch and then her afternoon nap.

While she lay her head down for a bit I'd try to cram all of my emailing, cleaning, cooking, phoning and writing into those precious minutes and then the dedicated time would start again. This week, however, it's been quite different.