August 27, 2010
Time, Time, Time, See What's Become of Me
My very good friend Andy, an immigration lawyer in Florida (yeah, he's not busy right now) asked me how I find time to write. How did I write a novel, and then another and...?
Time. I steal it. I manipulate it. I grab it, use it, shake it if my eyes are closing because I've kept promises, appointments, laundry going, kids from killing each other, floors swept, bathrooms clean, the pantry full, meals cooked, the dog walked, friends' books read, phone calls returned, church meetings, obligations, date night with a husband I know I have around here somewhere...
And sometimes time gets away from me and I run to catch up, or scrap it and pick up where I can, apologizing along the way.
I'm fortunate to have all my kids in school full time. I'm very fortunate to be home during the day. It's quiet when school is in, or I'm not babysitting the Wondertwins or J-man. And they have naptime.
My oldest son says I could block out an earthquake if I'm writing. If I'm "in the zone". I'm not sure it's a compliment.
"Mom... MOM. I need a haircut. Mom. Okay, so I accidentally spilled my nachos on the couch and they were covered in salsa... and then this bird flew into the house and landed on my head because it mistook it for a NEST. MOM!"
*type type* "What?"
"I need a haircut."
*type type* "You spilled nachos on your head?"
My children have been very patient. Some more than others.
It's funny, though, after you've wrenched it away for yourself? Things just sort of... make room.
Sometimes you do lose sleep. But if I could, right now, I'd choose writing over sleep. If it were possible, I'd write in the quiet all night long.
And find that man of mine.
Weaving time in a tapestry... won't you stop and remember me...