Writing with Children

by Kathy Flake

Some of us chose to be mothers. We also chose to be writers. Often, the two professions seem to be mutually exclusive.

Two of my writing partners have recently become mothers (again). One had a baby, another adopted the full grown version. Neither seems to be writing much these days–from the first I get the occasional harried email; from the other, the occasional harried phone call, interrupted by half-conversations regarding homework and guinea pigs.

I’m not complaining. I know they’re both taking needed time to adjust to the concept of motherhood, something I thought I adjusted to years ago.

Another friend has a nine month old, and when I met her for tea one evening, she lamented the lack of writing time (aka baby’s naptime). I realized, though my children are older, I’d never even tried to write while they were home--and awake. I guess I always assumed their needs would outweigh mine.

So a few days later, on a Saturday afternoon during BIAW, with both kids and Major Dad in residence I decided to finish that scene I’d been working on. Suddenly my office was as popular as the family bed had once been. But I kept writing. My twelve year old came in, looking for a cd. I kept writing, even while she climbed over my computer. My husband poked his head in, with a vaguely worded request for dinner. I gave him a dirty look, and kept writing. My oldest began rehearsing her speech. (What range!) My dialogue was beginning to sound like Ginsberg’s "Howl!" but at least I kept writing. 

I remembered the example set by another BIAW participant, who juggled basketball practice, piano lessons, science fair projects, and work, yet still managed to write. Who am I to complain about a child leaping over my desk?

I did, after all, choose to be a mother. It’s a job I like, most of the time. But I also choose to be a writer, and despite the seemingly irreconcilable differences, I’ll find a way to do both–sometimes even at the same time.