I have wet washing in the machine. I can't find the curtains hooks to put the curtains back up. I still haven't posted the promised photos to my Great Aunt. And I swear the long grass and daisies are mocking me, knowing I won't be cutting their heads off today. I haven't even started on motherhood, and weight. I feel guilty that I like food, that I eat food, and that I want food.
The second big guilt trip I have is that I deflect the guilt by getting mad at everyone else to ensure that the grumpiness is spread around evenly. I run around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to do the impossible, with the hope that if I just keep it up, the guilt will stop. But it won’t stop ever.
Therefore, I have decided to break down tasks in to 'must' and 'can wait.' Until my final draft is sent off.
Feeding my children and washing up (which sadly includes thinking of what to make for tea and sigh going to supermarkets.) A must.
Taking and picking up children from school. A must.
Driving to Adur and Chichester today for hubbies franchise - sigh - a must.
Mowing the lawn? Will the world stop turning if I ignore the grass?
Lets face it when my husband was around to make the drive he wouldn't have noticed the lawn, would have forgotten to bring in the post or dealt with it and, no way would he have even thought of checking the email and phone messages until he'd had a cup of tea, shut his eyes for forty winks and had 20 minutes on the Wii. He wouldn't have felt guilty he'd have said quite rightly that he'd just been in the car for four hours.
Men find it easier to shrug guilt off. They don’t tend to bother themselves with silly things like housework standards. He still got things done - sort of. But perhaps men just aren’t as susceptible to guilt as women are.
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