Mum life

Are used to think writing was more of a ritual. That I could sit down and set up, have my tea and I’ll have my biscuits. I’ll basically be very, very relaxed when I write. Being a mum is the opposite. When I write it stolen moments in time punctured by babbling or miss behaviours, being cheeky, someone wanting attention. Someone not respecting the process, if there is such a thing.

Nowadays I can’t write and snap if I’m distracted or I can’t be upset I’ve been distracted I have my attention taken away. Because now it’s being taken out by the most amazing little human that I’m raising. Which is petrifying same time.

The only thing I wished is that it was easier to write now. Now writing makes me feel guilty because it’s time for myself even if it’s stolen two seconds here and there it’s something that belongs to me. Mum guilt is strong.

Being able to sit down with the notebooks and reference notes and start writing doesn’t seem a possibility at the moment. Majority of the time I have is spent writing these kinds of posts. Little ones.

It’s a world of guilt. Because at the moment I am not willing to say I need to not be distracted for one or two hours unless I really have no choice. So I put writing back on the pile of later. I would hazard a guess that the characters in the story I’m writing are probably feeling a bit neglected right now. It’s understandable.

Being a mum and being a writer and trying to find some kind of balance isn’t something I’ve managed yet. And with the babble for attention in the background taking me away. I will say I will write more later.

Stay safe out there. And may luck and adventure be on your side.


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