Finding time to write

Schedule time

You’d think that the idea of scheduling time to write is so simple, but it really isn’t. It’s hard, especially when you have a family. So whether you have to literally write your writing time into your calendar/dayplanner/schedule, or whether you just have to say to yourself, “Self, you have to write for twenty minutes today,” do it. Schedule that time, and then stick to your schedule. It’s an appointment that you can’t afford to miss. And setting that schedule, taking the time to write, will show your family that you value your writing time. Don’t let other things encroach on that time … and if you really must miss it, make sure that you reschedule it.


Establish boundaries

It's not enough to set a time to write, you need to establish boundaries around that time. Weekend mornings are sacred in our house, and the boys have learned from a very young age that if Mommy hasn't finished her first cup of coffee, she's not to be disturbed. Having a toddler turning preschooler, there are currently three exceptions: blood, fire, or a potty-training issue. Otherwise, they have learned that I'm not to be disturbed. It's difficult to stick to, but they've learned enough now to come check the level of my coffee cup. I'm not sure what I'll do once they've learned to check whether it's warm enough to still be drinkable--I have a tendency to get involved in what I'm doing and leave the last inch or so until it's cold and bitter.

I'm going to have to come up with other boundary markers soon, as both boys are outgrowing their weekend afternoon naps. But establishing that quiet time is another do-not-interrupt time is working, at least so far. But I've discovered that I, too, have to be vigilant and not break my own rules, no matter what, and that's something that I find really difficult to do. For example, the dryer just beeped, which means it’s time to switch loads. I had a really hard time, especially considering the mountain of laundry I've got to do right now, not getting up from the table and switching the loads, folding the one, putting it away ... and getting sucked into the housework vortex once more.

Other things are easier, like making sure that I'm not spending time reading email and surfing aimlessly. I also won't answer the phone unless it's daycare or my husband calling. Anyone else can leave a message if it's important. If necessary, I've even been known to kennel the dogs to prevent distractions.


Treat it like work

I think I'm safe in assuming that most of us wouldn't stay home from work because there was laundry to do or dishes to be done. But when we're at home and trying to fit writing into our schedules, all of the housework that needs to be done is staring us right in the face. Whether it's a week's worth of laundry or the dishes from breakfast, they're right in front of us, which makes them very difficult to ignore. We think to ourselves, "I'll just do these few dishes, then I'll sit down and do some writing." No! Back away from the housework, now! You can get sucked into the housework vortex just as easily as you can the Google vortex. Those five minutes of dishes turn into putting away the clutter that's on the kitchen counter, which turns into putting cleaning off the coffee table, which turns into restacking the books beside the bed, which ... you get my drift. It's not a good thing.

So if you've set your writing time and established your boundaries, set boundaries for yourself, too. Ignore the dishes, the laundry, and the clutter. It's time to write, and that's what you need to be doing. Remember, butt to chair, pen/pencil to paper, fingers to keyboard. The dishes can wait ... trust me, they're not likely to grow little legs and wander off while you spend twenty minutes writing.

As I write this, there's a load of laundry in the dryer that needs to be folded so I can dry the load that's just finishing, there are a few dishes in the sink, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded, and it's almost time to make supper. But I still have two minutes of writing time left and, damn it, I'm going to use them because they're a precious commodity around here! And when my time is up, I'll unload the dryer onto the kitchen table, start supper, fold the laundry and load it to its respective baskets while I'm cooking, then set the table whilst unloading the dishwasher. It'll all get done, but writing time comes first!

Writing amidst chaos

Journal entry from July 27, 2012

I'm sitting at the kitchen table amidst the afternoon's play detritus, temporarily ignoring the kids and the dogs to write. Muppets from Space and the dogs' play-fighting are in the background, along with a slightly off-balance washing machine and a dryer in which I appear to have loaded at least a small handful of change.

Don’t even get pencil to paper before I pause to change a diaper. How can that small of a person make that big of a mess? And why does he always manage to put a foot into the poopy mess just when I’m almost finished?

Pause to get out colouring books and markers, have Thing One argue with me about stickers he thinks we’ve brought to the lake (but which are actually in his art box at home), and to tell him three times that he can’t play with my iPhone (and delete all of my contacts for the umpteenth time). Then pause to help him put his colouring stuff away when he decides that he doesn’t want to colour after all.

Pause to take Thing One to the potty. Try to figure out how he manages to pee all over the wall and completely miss the toilet.

Remember I haven't checked the septic lift station yet today. Brace myself to leave the air conditioned house for the heat and humidity to check the holding tank. Needs to be pumped. Wait (and fry) for the five minutes it takes to pump it, obsessively checking the baby monitor to make sure the boys aren't trying to kill each other. Trudge back inside. Look longingly at beer in the fridge, then think about all the stuff I need to do tonight. Decide to-do list trumps beer (but barely).

Move trucks off pad of paper, pause to rescue chipboard "W" from puppy's mouth, find her food, and feed her. Set timer for ten minutes so I won't forget to take her out (and thus have to clean up poop).

Pause to recheck the day's list of writing prompts. Laugh when I see "How many times do I have to tell you" as a prompt. I must've said that at least four times today.

Write 97 words.

Pause to kiss a bruised toe and set Thing Two's train set up on the table beside me.

Pause to turn off buzzer and let puppy out to poop. Try to figure out where Dad moved the poop bags. Clean up poop. Crate puppy. Move trains off legal pad and rescue pencil from Thing Two.

Write 282 words. Complete scene.

Pause to make supper for the boys. Reset breaker (blown by running microwave and a/c at the same time ... you'd think I'd know by now). Admonish Thing Two for driving Tonka dump truck up fridge door.

Clean up water from floor at base of water cooler. Determine Thing Two has been drinking straight from cooler tap. Yuck. Tell him "No," rather firmly. He starts to cry. Hug. "It's okay, but no more drinking from the cooler taps, okay little man?" He nods, face still streaming crocodile tears.

Finish cooking and plate supper. Thing One informs me that he doesn't want supper. Resist urge to tell him about all the starving children in Africa.

Change laundry. Hope septic pump holds out at least another day, as there are at least two more loads that need to be done. Try to track down smell in laundry room (not dirty laundry). Discover rotten potato. Remove. Mop floor. Put laundry on bed to fold later.

Sweep rice up from floor around Thing Two. Wonder if he actually ate any of it or if he just threw fistfuls in the air while I was in the laundry room. Pause to clean up salt shaker youngest has emptied onto table whilst I was putting the broom and dustpan away.

Pause for truck races (over my foot--ouch!), dishes, pyjamas, potty, teeth brushing, stories, and tucking in. Another pause for milk and snack for eldest.

Yet another pause to close the front gate. How the heck did that end up open? Keep eldest dog from escaping, again.

Write 685 words. Finish scene.

The Habit of Writing

Most writing advice you read tells you that the best way to write productively is to schedule time to write.

It's good advice, but anyone with small children will tell you that scheduling anything, never mind time to write, is like trying to climb Mt. Everest backwards in flip-flops.

The key is not that you write at a scheduled time every day, but that you write every day.

It might only be 100 words, scribbled on the back of a grocery receipt, or it might be, on a good day, a couple thousand or more.

What's most important is that you're writing. And if all you're writing about is how tired you are, how grumpy the baby is, how messy your house is, that's fine. Regardless, you're putting butt to chair and pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard).

It's developing (and maintaining) the habit of writing every day, no matter what, that is significant.

There will be days where you'll think you're too busy, too tired, too sick, too stressed, too whatever to write. Don't give in. Suck it up, take a deep breath, and write about it.