I feel like a failure.

But here’s how I’m reframing it…

Yesterday morning I woke up, went for a run, did 20 minutes of breathwork and delighted in all the ideas and inspiration gushing through my mind.

I had an an idea for an email I wanted to write, and a book proposal I wanted to work on (two, in fact - in different genres).

But I had to make a decision.

We’re on a half-term family holiday in the UK and as the sun was shining, there was a plan to go to the beach.

I knew that the next day (today), the weather wouldn’t be so good and we’d stay closer to home. 

So if I wanted one last trip to the beach, whilst we are away, I’d have to go.

But I also knew that by the time we got home, the ideas would no longer feel so strong and exciting; they’d have dissipated much like the bubbles in a fizzy drink once it’s poured into a glass and left awhile.

A day trip will be inspiring, I thought. I’ll enjoy time with my family and then tomorrow morning, when the ideas return, I’ll get on it.

The beach it was.

We headed off to hunt for fossils. Well, the older kids and their dad did, while I had some time to laze about and read. 

The youngest, who’d been tantrumming all the way to the beach because we wouldn’t carry him, fell asleep.

It’s not unusual for him to fall asleep in the middle of the day wherever he is so we let him have a nap in the shade.

After a few hours of sun, sea and fossil-hunting - and a lovely gift from my kids (some gemstones: amethyst, rose quartz and aventurine) - we headed home.

My son said he wasn’t feeling well.

I decided to go to bed at the same time as him, in the same bed, knowing he might need me during the night.

He did.

I was up through the night giving him water, stroking his back and trying to cool him down, as he had a temperature.

I probably had about three hours of broken sleep.

I’m so used to having broken sleep that I no longer get into a panic about it. 

Also, I was more concerned about my son being ok than how I might feel the next day.

But I did have a fleeting thought about it meaning that my one work day during our holiday would be a lot harder. Possibly cancelled.

Today, he’s had some medicine and lots of water and we’ll have a slow day at home.

And in my tired state, I’m noticing that the ideas fire has died down. 

It will be stoked after a good night’s sleep, maybe tonight or tomorrow, but by that point, we’ll have met with family and I won’t be able to work again until Monday.

One of the hardest things about being a freelance mum is that my work, as a writer, isn’t just producing articles and books that I’ve been commissioned to write.

There’s a lot that happens before that, including putting together pitches and proposals; posting on social media; networking and so on.

And of course, the first thing to be dropped, when you unexpectedly lose your child-free day, or feel low in energy, is all the extra work that leads to the paid work.

Though it should also be noted that there is an element of privilege, when self-employed, in terms of being able to be flexible.

When I’m tired, or need to look after my children unexpectedly, I can shift my workload to another day without pressure from a boss.

But the other thing about tiredness is that it allows doubts to slip in.

After a good sleep - which I usually have, because I go to bed very early - I believe in all of my ideas.

But when I’m deprived of sleep, they suddenly seem a bit crap. And I start doubting different areas of my career.

However, I’m now able to recognise this pattern and challenge it.

So when I started feeling uncomfortable about something related to my book, I was able to do a mindset exercise, work out why and move forwards with a different attitude.

Here’s what I was finding difficult about the publication of my book, and how I worked through it (including some SQ coaching tips)…