Quick, before the baby wakes up
Remember when I had a blog? Yeah, me, neither.
*gets locked out after too many incorrect passwords*
*blows spiders out of comments section*
*tries to remember how a keyboard works*
So, uh, turns out that having a baby takes up a lot of your day.
Okay, you can laugh a little bit.
I said a little. Geez.
The last time we talked, I was still T-minus a month or so to babyhaving time. It’s been…a bit…since then. Miss Mackenzie is pushing six months old now and looking more like a person and less like a happy meatloaf every day.
What you’re seeing here is the primary reason I haven’t posted, novelled, tweeted, or done anything much since the spring.
I’d heard tales of moms who wrote their first book while nursing their newborn, and inspired and filled with wild optimism, I figured I could at least keep a steady, if slow, pace with Apple of Chaos during feedings and naps. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
There’s another (very long) post I could write on all the things I didn’t expect about being a stay at home mom with a baby-baby who also wants to, you know, do stuff that requires focusing for more than 10 minutes together. The joy, the despair, the exhaustion, the anger, the fear, the simplicity, the pride, the loneliness. The feeling that I’ll never do anything except manage someone else’s food and sleep for the rest of my life.
Don’t misunderstand. I love this squirmy ball of poop and giggles, and I will cut you if you wake her up.
But I miss writing.
There’s not a lot more to say about it at the moment. Babies are masters of the fake-out. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on things, they flip out, regress, or explode. They force themselves into the center of your world. You adapt or die. Or at least sob quietly while pushing a stroller around Walmart for an hour and a half praying the next price check doesn’t wake the baby.
Not that I’ve done that.
(I’ve done that.)
Right now, I’m taking it easy–which I’ve said in my last, like, four posts–and fighting the voice saying I’m a disappointing failure because I haven’t written a full book while learning to be a mother.
Thankfully, my husband now watches Mack every other Saturday 9am-2pm so I can escape to Starbucks and write. I’m not novelling yet, but I’m working towards it. Other projects have insinuated themselves into the hierarchy–my leadership course is all speeches this year, plus I landed a sekrit projekt but I’m not sure how it’ll be received, so I’m sitting on it–so I’m constantly juggling priorities. Alone time is precious these days.
I still hear Cora’s voice asking what’s next. I still brush against Jack every now and then. Their story isn’t over. It’s just waiting for me to learn how to write it again.
There are days I touch who I used to be: the expansive, creative woman in control of her time and who bathed regularly. Most days, though, I’m the uncertain, worried new mom trying to find something to laugh at so she doesn’t cry about what she’s afraid she’s lost.
Sorry, that got a little maudlin. Here’s another cute baby picture:
Basically, I popped in here to say that I haven’t forgotten about you guys. I miss you the way I miss writing. I want you to know I’m working my way back, slowly but surely. This is a hard time in my life, but if baby-having has taught me anything, it’s that nothing is forever. We’ll be together again soon.
Until then, my loves: See you ’round the ‘verse.