Writing Like a Headless Chicken

It’s a fact of life all writers have to deal with: making time to actually sit down and bang out words can be one of the hardest parts of working creatively.

As a mom of three (5, 2, and 9 months) the above picture is often what this looks like for me.

That’s right; I double as a human jungle gym for my toddlers while I tap out words. Nothing increases tension in a scene like not knowing how long you’ve got until someone poops themselves.

Hopefully it doesn’t leak onto your head while you’re acting as the living rock wall installation.

When my youngest was a newborn, I’d set the laptop up in bed, sit criss-cross applesauce and nurse him on top of a boppy pillow. It was challenging.

But now, as my kids climb me like their own personal Mount Everest, I’m challenged in a new way. Like, will my bladder hold if they jump on my lower back just so?

Was that my kidney?

Am I about to go the way of Harry Houdini?

A few weeks ago I surprised myself by making soup, holding the baby on one hip, and banging out revisions while I stirred and bounced him.

Mistakes were made. Many typos. The soup burned on the bottom.

But hey! I did it! And the soup was edible.

Making time for writing is SO hard.

Nothing, though, compares to that feeling of smashing your word goal for the day. Or finishing that draft. And heck, I am super privileged to get to do it while I mom at home.

So to all you writers out there juggling your dreams, your jobs, your families. Keep going. You’ve got this.

Make time when you can, and don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t go the way you thought it would. Or if you have to take long breaks between sessions.

Here’s hoping no one smears poop on you while you’re doing the damn thing.