Time to Write

It’s no secret I have a rather large family in comparison to the North American tradition of 2.5 children. With four rambunctious boys in the house, not to mention an ambitious husband, life can get pretty crazy at times. Each of these characters has their own specific set of needs, wants, desires – their quirky and dynamic personalities mesh together to create an imperfect symbiotic ambience that works for us – most of the time.

My favourite time to write used to be during the wee hours of the night, usually between midnight and three am. Admittedly, a tremendous amount of editing would follow, but the ideas run smooth from my head to the page. The only problem with that indulgence is the inability to function the next day. My boys are self-sufficient, but someone has to get them moving in the morning.

I have also tried writing during the wee hours of the morning, setting the alarm and getting up when my husband is heading out to the pool for his morning swim, but I’m just too easily distracted. I check the weather, the news, my e-mail, Facebook, Authonomy, my blog stats, my friends’ blogs . . . I put on a pot of coffee and think that maybe I should cook breakfast for my boys, just this once. I am the Queen of Procrastination. Before I know it, those shadowy peaceful morning hours have brightened to sunlight and I haven’t written a word.

The solution: treat writing like a real job. I don’t have one – a real job, that is. Oh, I know that being a stay-at-home mom is a full-time job. I am chef, chauffeur, tutor, nurse, laundress, cleaning lady, dog walker, detective, psychologist, and life coach extraordinaire! I also volunteer extensively, primarily so that I have human contact outside of my family.

A real job? With schedules, goals, deadlines . . . Easier said than done, but it is entirely doable. The children all exit the house by 9:00am and I am free to spend my day at the computer, reading, writing, researching, and querying. There are days when the laundry piles up and the dishes get crusty, but it’s okay because mommy is “working”. My office remains in the kitchen, despite the space my wonderful husband built for me in the basement. I draw a lot of my inspiration from the activity around me and feel I need to be at the centre of everything – the more chaos, the better.

Now, if only that pay cheque would come in the mail . . .