This is a post? No 'title' needs to be written in?

So long since I did it I don't remember. Nothing is familiar.

Well that's how it goes: it is now 9:15p.m. and I sat down to write this just after 6.00p.m. The event log shows the computer got switched on at 6.00p.m. I don't know how to pin down the time of different activities any better than that, poor as it is, but I know I haven't attempted to do anything else, I switched on the computer to write to abrogard's blog.

and now it is 9:16p.m. and I am being bugged constantly with cries of 'dad', 'dad', 'dad'...

Three hours before you can do what you want to do. That's kids.

A three hour hiatus. A three hour interruption. A three hour stop to your plans, your life.

Three hours of captivity. Three hours of tending, ministering, giving, giving, giving...

It is not unique (more 'daddy' calls...)

Well. That was only a ten minute interruption. Put one child to bed. Put the other on the couch before the tv to fall asleep there. Give glasses of milk prior to that. Cut rock melon. Washing up there to be done. Later.

It is not unique. The event. The interruption. No. Of course not. There may be one unique event commences it but then it moves smoothly, naturally, into one of the many daily tasks and that one into the next and so on...

Point being one was engaged upon an interruption of what is essentially a continuous uninterruptable task: childminding.

So when you try and do something else it is to be expected that you'll be interrupted. And it is to be expected that it'll be some time before you can get back to what you were trying to do.

It is to be expected. By the nature of the game.

But it takes a long time to get that into your head. For some of us. For me. For instance.

I kept thinking I had a life. I kept thinking I had a right to do things. My things. I kept thinking I was, 'I am'. But, of c ourse, I wasn't, I'm not.

All that exists is a slave, a functionary, a servant, a robot, a thing that ministers constantly....

That's all that exists. There's no time for anything else to exist.

And yet, because of the very existence of these overlords, these despots, these demanding monsters - more must be done.

More than mere tending to them.

Aaahh... the horror.

It doesn't really get talked about. Not really. And I can see why right there. I want to shut up. I want to stop. I'm dreadfully tired, tired of the whole thing, just want to put it behind me...