The Mama sandwich
The small fussy person in our household has determined that bedtime shall be at 10-10:30 every night without fail. Normally this is not a problem. But last night, I just was not tired.
Solution: bring writing to bed. I have an ancient Palm IIIe whose Memo Pad works just fine for writing scenes and stories (and blog entries) when I can't be near my computer. I use it in the car, at family gatherings, and anywhere else the bug bites me. Last night, that place was my bed... sandwiched between my two sons.
We co-sleep, have since Hamlet was his brother's age.* "Sandwich" is not a lightly applied term. You know how peanut butter and jelly and bread become one unit, the longer they are mushed together? I wrote, on my belly, until my elbows went numb and Hamlet's feet threatened my spleen and the little guy had wiggled so close that he was practically under me. Then I decided it was time for sleep. After all, peanut butter and jelly do squish out when you squeeze the bread slices too hard.
I worried that two children would spell the end of my writing, but I needn't have: the evening proves that as long as I'm willing to be flexible, my various roles can--and do--converge.
*Safely. Guidelines here.
Solution: bring writing to bed. I have an ancient Palm IIIe whose Memo Pad works just fine for writing scenes and stories (and blog entries) when I can't be near my computer. I use it in the car, at family gatherings, and anywhere else the bug bites me. Last night, that place was my bed... sandwiched between my two sons.
We co-sleep, have since Hamlet was his brother's age.* "Sandwich" is not a lightly applied term. You know how peanut butter and jelly and bread become one unit, the longer they are mushed together? I wrote, on my belly, until my elbows went numb and Hamlet's feet threatened my spleen and the little guy had wiggled so close that he was practically under me. Then I decided it was time for sleep. After all, peanut butter and jelly do squish out when you squeeze the bread slices too hard.
I worried that two children would spell the end of my writing, but I needn't have: the evening proves that as long as I'm willing to be flexible, my various roles can--and do--converge.
*Safely. Guidelines here.
posted by Christa M. Miller at 5:56 PM
5 Comments:
Brilliant post, Christa. LOVED it. :)
christa, i'm in awe of you. i really am. i just read through the last several posts, and wow. i didn't realize hamlet's brother's birth was so recent. sorry i haven't kept up! anyway, you're amazing. moms rock.
You are amazing. Keep on truckin' lassie.
That's an excellent attitude you have there, Christa. It's so easy to complain that we don't have time to do the things we say we want to do. All we have to do is make the time, not wait for it to fall in our lap.
A Palm in the bed, you geek you (in a good way)!
Oh, gosh, guys. Thanks for all the kind comments!! It's kind of funny because today I had to be "flexible" enough to give up on work altogether - baby wouldn't nap, his brother was (and still is) being Demanding - if I get anything done today (especially around Hamlet pressing my Caps Lock button) it will be a bonus, if not an outright miracle! I foresee another (geeky) Palm-in-bed night tonight....
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