I dedicate this post to writers with small children. How do you do it?
I'm spending a week helping with two of my grandchildren, ages one-and-a-half and two-and-a-half, while daddy works, and mommy rests with the new addition to the family. That's precious Julia there on the left.
I have a whole new respect for writers or authors with children. You guys are superheroes. Not that I thought it was easy before, I hadn't experienced it yet.
Take a walk with me through one of my days. :)
The kids awake, eat breakfast, and I must double check they didn't just have coffee instead of Cheerios because their energy levels just went from ten to one-hundred in thirty seconds. They are zipping around the room with no knowledge of an inside voice, like it never existed.
My name granny name, Yaya, is called thirty times within fifteen minutes, and the questions begin: "Why are you cooking, what is that, where are my toys, who did that, why is your stomach making that sound?" Why and why not are the most popular questions. They follow me into each room and round and round the kitchen table. My only respite is in the bathroom, but they're right outside the door waiting for me, and then the question is, "What were you doing in there?" Yikes!
Before I can respond an enormous toy dump truck is rammed into my leg. "Read please." That comes from the one-and-a-half-year-old holding a book up at me. She has eyes that you could never say no to. I end up reading four books while they insist on taking turns sitting front and center on my lap.
Next is our nature walk. We splash through every puddle we find, and questions continue about absolutely everything we see. "Why are those dandelions? What's wrong with the trees? What is that worm doing?"
Afterward, the oldest wants to watch Blues Clues. That show still exists? Sure, why not? I haven't seen it in years, but okay.
Kill me now, I thought as I watched it. I was going to pull my hair out if I had to sit through another half hour of that.
It's snack time, and they consistently want orange slices and goldfish crackers. As I'm getting them set up at the table, I'm wondering if I even brushed my teeth that morning. I don't remember eating, and when was the last time I showered?
They wanted me to help them build. I'm both excited, because I loved blocks as a kid, and a little apprehensive because one of them can get pretty upset if you don't do things according to his specifications. He says he's making an excavator. I don't even understand why he knows that word, so I ask what an excavator is for. "It scoops up dirt." Okay. Mind blown.
By lunch time, do you know how many words I've written? Zilch. During their nap time I checked and responded to emails, edited the Lolo and Winkle Go Viral audio book cover, and tried to get a few minutes of a nap in. My eyes finally close and then pop open. They're awake! Where has the time gone?
I decide I'll get some writing in after these miniature humans are in bed that night. I have to get this next book in final edits by the end of the week. I can do it, right? Isn't this the attitude I'm supposed to have--that I can conquer all?
I'll let you know how it goes. Stay tuned. Pray for me. :)
L. B.
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