How am I supposed to get any writing done with a baby screaming her head off in the background because I don’t want her near the stove as I cook dinner (yes cooking dinner while writing while baby-wrangling, that’s multi-tasking). And I can’t help but feel like I just want to go take a nice long shower. I need a shower. But, with kids, there’s seriously not even enough time for that. And so showers become luxuries when you’re a mom, and apparently writing becomes futile.
It’s days, weeks, like this that make me question many things. What was I thinking trying to write a novel in a month? Maybe I should just give up, I have a baby, that’s my excuse. What was I thinking having another baby when I couldn’t possibly get everything done before she came? Do I really have to sacrifice so much of myself to be a good mom? When will I ever get to sit down and just write? Why is the timer going off? Oh yea, dinner. There goes my “free” time (insert frowny face, no let’s make this a crying emoji).