On Writing With Babies

babybooks

This is not news to anybody.

Three months into this parenting thing and I’m chomping at the bit to get my writing schedule back on track. And also my exercise schedule. I have completely unrealistic expectations about what I should look like now that Double Trouble has arrived, and trying to carve out time for much of anything is difficult. Here are the things I’m thinking about:

It’s much easier to watch TV while feeding them than it is to, say, read a book. Because obvs I have to hold and feed two babies at the same time. Also watching TV is oddly comforting to me these days. Perhaps its the noise? I don’t know.

I have to do these things in my day: sleep, shower, fix my face and hair, eat foodstuffs, don clothes, wake/soothe/change/love on babies according to the schedule we have with them, which they do not always follow because development and also babies, go to work because that bacon isn’t going to bring itself home, hang out some with pater familias, and let the ferrets out to play.

These are things I *could* do in a day but don’t contribute to the downfall of The Things: exercise (at the gym, or in the living room), write, read, clean the house, do some laundry. On weekends I tend to take naps and make things to store in the freezer to eat during the week.*

I feel guilty for not writing, and for not exercising and sometimes for not being more aggressive with my sleep schedule – I’d rather hang out with Husband and snuggle babies. 

At the end of the day, I mostly just like to sit in the living room by myself (and ferrets) with wine and the television.

And don’t think Pater Familias isn’t helping or something. He is. And he’s in nursing school, too. He’s incredibly supportive and we are working all this stuff out pretty well, I think.

I’m not asking for answers or anything, just thinking about this. If you’re a writer with kids, you probably know from whence I come.

I have managed to read a whole entire book for this new book club I’m in which I feel great about – I’m excited to be in a book club. I’ve been in two before – one was good in terms of the books they read but there were like…40 people who may or may not show up so I never knew more than one or two people at a meeting. Plus, the person who brought me to that book club did something crappy to me and I stopped hanging out with her. 

The other book club – I only went once and the book was Middlesex (which is really good, and I recommend it often). I had highlighted it and written all these notes because I was so stoked to talk about it but then (SPOILER ALERT?) the rest of the group was like, “OH. MY. GOD. GROSS they’re brother and sister and they got married and ewwww let’s talk about stupid non-book-related stuff.” So…I did not go back.

 

*THE MOST HELPFUL THING EVER.

2 Comments

  1. This is exactly why I started getting up at 5 am. It was either that or don’t write. (And this only really started happening once I could count on little one to sleep until 6:30 or 7.) What it means is that I’m giving up sleep, and I rarely exercise. I could fix the sleep thing by dragging my rear into bed a little earlier, so that’s my own fault. The exercise thing….haven’t figured that one out yet…

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