It’s not easy being a writer when there’s a three month old baby demanding attention. Every day he insists the only place he can sleep is lodged firmly on my chest. Attempts at doing anything other than quietly reading a book or gazing adoringly at his sleeping figure are met with squirming and cries and demands for food or comfort. Needless to say, this is actually the most I’ve written since he was born.
On rare occasions, like at six thirty in the morning when he’s noisily sleeping, I get a little bit of time on my computer to write. That’s my writing time. Otherwise, I’m mastering the one handed peck.
The one handed peck: holding the baby in place on my chest with one hand while balancing the computer on my knees so I can peck at, hopefully, the right letters to make a somewhat intelligible word that will likely need to be re-typed at some future date, unless I forget all about it. And, unfortunately, it’s not always my dominant that I get to use. Learning to be left handed is quite an undertaking!
I love being a mother, but I also love being a writer. It’s agony sometimes having to forgo my writing, but I have to patiently remind myself I’m raising the next generation of readers. For now, I’m satisfied with taking a half hour to write a sentence. I’m fine with working out one index finger (if I’m lucky I get to use my right hand and all five fingers!). I’m more than okay with waking up a little early for a little writing time. If it means I get to give some attention to the two great loves in my life, it’s all worth it.
All I can is…this kid had better like books!