Before having a baby, my time was my own. I wrote in the mornings, scheduled phone calls for the afternoon, exercised later in the day, and caught up with friends. I thought a baby would seamlessly integrate into my life – I would write when he napped! – and generally underestimated how all consuming caring for a child really is.
Sometimes I try to take out my laptop and write while he’s cooing on the play mat or in his bouncy chair, but it’s challenging to focus, like listening to two songs at once. When I do have help for a few hours, I have trouble switching gears; it takes me some time to drop into a creative project and find my way into a rhythm. I often find that, by the time I’ve gotten into a groove, it’s time to take over with the baby again. Similarly, it can take me some time to transition back from my writing brain to the side of my brain that’s managing nap schedules and when he had his last bottle.
Because I don’t have a 9-5 desk job, I have the flexibility to be with my baby during the day, which is a privilege. But I also don’t have the built in structure of leaving the house to go into an office every day, or a boss holding me accountable for showing up at the same time. I often talk to my writer friends about how working on a book can feel a little silly; it’s just you and your laptop, typing away, making up stories you’re not sure anyone will ever read. It can feel hard to prioritize click clacking on my computer over being with my baby, especially because his cheeks are looking particularly edible these days.
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