Today officially marks the end of my first year as a work-at-home mom. Jude turns 1 today and it’s a big milestone for all of us.
Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned in my first year as a writing parent.
1. It’s important not to lose the wonder
As I sit at my desk, I’ve handed my son a red hat that his grandmother bought last year, just in case he arrived early, on Christmas. I put it on my head first and then I placed it gently on his. Now, it’s in his hand and he’s staring at the red cloth with amazement and wonder, taking it from his hand to his head and back again, giggling while he does it.
It’s a simple thing, this hat, and a year ago, it would barely have registered on my radar. But I’ve started thinking like a child now. I knew that the color, the fabric, the fact that mummy placed it on her head is intriguing to my one-year-old child. I’m learning to see things in my writing life differently as well these days. After ten years of journalism, mostly about social issues that remain unsolved, it’s easy to get burned out on journalism, on writing.
So I’ve shifted gears, started writing about things I hadn’t previously considered. And what do you know? I feel like that newbie waiting eagerly to see that byline, to cash that paycheck. Writing is my career, my business, but it’s also my art. In the day-to-day of bills and contracts and deadlines, it’s so easy to forget that.
2. Every day is an opportunity to have fun
Lately, when I wake up every day, my first thought is, I’m exhausted. I did NOT get enough sleep again last night. And then I dread the day ahead. My son, on the other hand, is bright and chirpy when he sees me for the first time in the morning. His face breaks out into smile and he wants to be put down on the floor so that he crawl around and start playing.
I’m never one to give false optimism so I’m going to tell you right now that there are days and weeks and months of the writing life that are absolutely, in no way whatsoever, going to be fun. But you know, each day doesn’t have to be a struggle either. What can you bring into your writing life that brings you joy, a real sense of accomplishment? What brought you to writing in the first place? Can you recapture that feeling?
For me, currently, it’s a new road in books– both non-fiction and novels. And each time I sit down to write them, I feel like I’m playing. Lately, I’ve fallen in love with this blog again. I’m sure you’ve noticed. It doesn’t feel like work any more. And that’s why even though I wake up exhausted and dreading the day, the moment I sit at my computer and open my files, I’m happy again.
3. When you fall, get up, try again
Over and over this year, Jude’s been learning new skills. He was a chubby baby so the rolling over, sitting, etc, came a bit later to him. His mind was ready, but his neck couldn’t support the weight of the rest of his body. So for weeks, I watched the poor boy trying and failing, trying and failing, trying and failing, until one day, he rolled over, lifted his head and gave me a big goofy grin as if to say, “See! I’ve done it.”
Now he’s learning to walk. He takes one step, falls down. But he gets up and takes another. There have been a few scratches here and there, but nothing has or will deter him. It’s human nature. It’s what people do. We fail, we get up, we try again. You know this. I know this. But we still resist it. We get back a rejection and we beat ourselves up. A few editors pass on a proposal and we flail about feeling sorry for ourselves.
The falls will happen. Keep getting up, keep standing, and one fine day, you’ll walk.
4. Independent play is important for everyone’s well-being
As a work-at-home parent, teaching my child the art of independent play was absolutely crucial to my own sanity and well-being. We started early, giving him independence and space from the very first day, but to be fair, we were born with a baby who had an independent gene anyway (wonder where he gets it from). Even as a two-month-old, he demanded to be placed in his bed if people had been holding him for too long. Other babies scream to be picked up, this one screamed because he’d had enough and wanted to be free to lie down.
As a writer, you spend quite a bit of time alone, but it’s not actually “alone time.” Most days, even as I’m writing, I’m posting on a message board for writers, answering someone on Twitter, reading a rant on Facebook, composing an e-mail message, etc. There isn’t face-to-face contact, but there is personal contact. A lot more of it than there was even a few years ago. It’s important, to me, however, and I’m guessing you, to take a bit of time each day to just shut all the voices off and have some time to think, to just be. I go running three times a week, so for me that’s an hour when the chatter is off (except the one from my own head) and I can disconnect.
It may be something entirely different for you, like a bubble bath or a kickboxing lesson, or taking the dog for a walk. Whatever it is, guard it, respect it. It’s important for your well-being.
5. It will get better. It will get worse
There was a time several years ago when I was going through a really rough time in my life and I read in a book about the importance of embracing “This too shall pass” as your life’s motto. I’ve liked the phrase since I was a child, but in my twenties, it took on a whole new meaning for me. Every time something bad happened, I repeated that phrase to myself, and lo and behold, a day, a week, a month or a year from then, it had indeed passed.
Parenting and writing are both a bit like that. There were days when it took me over an hour to put a screaming child to bed and after a full day of work, deadlines, this new parent would often find herself clinging to those words. In our writing lives, too, things go wrong, things go right. We can achieve huge things and we publicly face immense failure. It’s all temporary. It will pass. Don’t get too hung up on one thing.
Have you learned anything about the writing life from your children? I’d love to hear it.