The Goose is Getting Fat

My writing time is dwindling for the year, and I’m getting a little sad and nervous as I see it slowly disappearing. Sure I have excuses…the shopping, the lines, the errands, the cooking, the kids, the crafts, the gift-wrapping, the parties…but I’m in a zone in my writing right now, and I don’t really want to give in to them.

I accomplish most of my writing during my Mother’s Day Out free time and during those last few remaining naps I can squeeze out of my youngest. The “by-yourself” time I’ve instituted with my oldest is working just fine, but soon I’m going to have to introduce the concept to my youngest and work him around to it. That time has not yet arrived. Right now the calendar is my nemesis.

The holidays are approaching, and most of the time I would have used to write now must be used to accomplish little tasks I can’t perform with the kids along for the ride. Or else tasks that get done 90% quicker without them….

“No, we don’t have time to give the plastic grapes a squeeze today. Maybe next time.”
“We can’t watch the fish today; we’ll swing by the lobster tank in the grocery section instead.”

These last few weeks before Christmas (a whopping five), everybody is in a hurry, and contrary to the way it should be, everybody’s grumpy too. Not to mention pushy and rude. We all just need to relax a little.

We need to enjoy the holidays and not feel pressured. We need to find the time for projects we enjoy—projects for ourselves. Just a few minutes away from the hustle and bustle might give us the oomph we need to get through another afternoon of cooking or an evening of gift-wrapping.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. I’m going to write everyday—even if it’s only for ten minutes—barring an unforeseen emergency development. And if I can’t, well then I’m not going worry about it. There’s always tomorrow. And I will write tomorrow.