Writing & Motherhood

As some of you know, I celebrated Mother's Day this year by becoming a Mom.

For now Calliope is in the NICU, trying to catch her gestational age up to her actual age. I'm learning all kinds of things I never expected to have to know about preemies and trying not to be terrified of the day she comes home.

To distract myself, I've started querying (again), re-working a manuscript that's been collecting dust in my proverbial trunk (still), and also started brainstorming/plotting a new project (oy vey, another one?).

I'm not a masochist, I swear. I'm just trying to get ahead, because I know that in the months (and years) to come, my writing time will be at a premium. Especially once I go back to my day job.

So I'm looking for the advice of my wiser, more experienced writing friends. How do you balance motherhood (or fatherhood) with writing? Especially when you have to work another job to make ends meet in the meantime?

Meanwhile, does anyone have a time machine or two extra hands I can borrow?

Balancing

I'm not very good at balancing. I never had been. When I fall in love I fixate on my love for that person at the expense of everything else. When an 80s pop icon comes back into my life, I change my world to experience that lost part of my soul again.

When I transition from writer to author, I forget the passion I used to feel for helping people confront their problems.

This lack of ability to balance seems rather adolescent at times. And yet, I'm not terribly motivated to change it. I wonder why. I wonder how much the decision will cost me. I wonder if I'll think it's worth it.

One of my favorite poems on the matter:


Balances-Nikki Giovanni

in life
one is always
balancing

like we juggle our mothers
against our fathers

or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade average)

3 grains of salt
to one ounce truth

our sweet black essence
or the funky honkies down the street

and lately i've begun wondering
if you're trying to tell me something

we used to talk all night
and do things alone together

and i've begun

(as a reaction to a feeling)
to balance
the pleasure of loneliness
against the pain
of loving you