Friday, 10 December 2010

The One with the Time on My Moisturised Hands

You could grate cheese on my knuckles!

It's all the plunging my hands into hot water that having a baby makes you do. I'm constantly washing them, or washing up bottles, or poking about in Milton Steriliser fluid. Even using rubber gloves one way or another my hands are suffering.

So last night I went to a Body Shop party in search of Christmas presents and something to soothe my poor old palms!

There was lots to try. Fruity, floral and nut based. Each product was passed round, slathered on and sniffed enthusiastically.

While I was there the conversation turned to blogs. Another party goer has one about her photographic business and we were swapping stories and ideas, when someone else asked how I found time to write it.

This got me thinking. How do we have time to do anything? Not just because we have children but in general. How do we make the decision to find the time to do the things we do?

I guess we can never understand how anyone has the time to do something we don't do because we can't imagine fitting anything else into our day. But of course people do things we don't do each day and we do things they don't do.

When faced with the question last night I found myself making a glib and slightly defensive comment about not doing much housework, which to a certain extent is true. The boy is having a nap right now and I really ought to clean the kitchen but I'd rather do this.

And that's the key. It's a question of priorities. Some people must have a walk everyday or watch a certain TV programme or read the paper or go to the gym. Everyone's day is made up of different priorities. This is mine. It's what I'd rather do.

So what did I come away with last night?

That I shouldn't feel guilty for never ironing so I can be a writer.

Oh and hands that smelt like a fruit salad, but boy were they soft.....


  1. Too true. Since I started blogging the state of the house is definitely less than sparkly.

    Years ago my uncle commented that he never reads books, that he never has time. I told him that you have to make time. He gave me a withering look and said, "Don't ever say that to a man you want to impress." Never forgot that!

  2. I'd go for writing over housework any time of the day or week! You're right it is about priorities and as I keep reminding my husband: "You didn't marry me for my organisational abilities nor my skills at ironing...did you?" This is of course said with a glare so that he knows the answer must be "Of course not Darling!!!"