It’s 10:30 in the morning and my son has finally succumbed to his morning nap. With his head on my chest and his ineffectual arms wrapped around my neck, I feel his body rise and fall with every seamless breath. I move ever-so-slightly, adjusting my body without moving him; a timeless skill every parent finds a way to master. I lift up my arms to lay my hands on my laptop keyboard, determined to finish an article and meet a deadline while my child dreams sweet one year old dreams.
Before I became a mother, I was borderline obsessive about the way I wrote. I had to listen to music and set up a clean area and definitely, under no circumstances, be bothered. I’d create a “writing space” that – I believed – fostered the best creativity and willpower and I was unwavering in its obsessive defense.
How To Write When You’re A Parent