My “Write It And Go” Era

“Are you gonna just scoot your whole way there?” I find myself asking my son.


He was scooting across the floor on his butt down the hall toward the bathroom. It was our last stop before bedtime and this of course was a slower method of transportation than walking.


This silliness is exactly what I would have imagined parenting a 3-year-old to be like. What I didn’t imagine is how tired I would be and how much I would want him to just be asleep already. Those last minutes before bedtime, when my husband and I are wanting to have a few minutes alone together before we head to bed, can feel longer than other minutes of the day. Or when I have been waiting for a few quiet minutes with little chance of interruption to do something that is special for just me; yoga, writing, reading, circling.

But, luckily, this night, I did find a lot of amusement in watching him in his little plaid Christmas jammies, scooting all the way down the hall and through the bathroom until he reached his potty. 


Savoring the moment, I took a mental snapshot and filed it under adorable memories that I will miss someday. 


One of the things I’m struggling with right now is how difficult it is for me to write anything of substance. I feel discouraged and a little down on myself about it. “Is something wrong with me? Why can’t I write like I used to?” As if it’s some mystery.

“THIS is why. And no, nothing is wrong with you,” I tell myself.


Most of my time is spent either doing activities, going on playdates or taking him in tow on errands. Not a lot of quiet time to go into my writing mode. As I write this, he is in bed and my husband and I are about to sit down and spend our only alone time together for the day. So writing takes place in the nooks and crannies, late at night, and on preschool days.


This is my precious season of life. 


And I am finding that one of the things that is changing is not just my schedule but my voice.
My perspective.
My outlook on the world.
The lessons available to me.


I miss having time and space to ruminate on an idea, write about it, and work it out with redrafts until it feels just right.


But this just might be my “write it and go” era.
Rough edit. Get it down and get it out. 


An opportunity to practice detachment.
Practice self trust and trusting that I don’t need to try so hard to make it good.
Let it just be what it is.
Lean into impermanence.
Lean into simple, honest expression.
And learn more about who I am and how I see life and the world in the process.


I remember someone telling me you can’t know what you are going to learn as a parent.
And perhaps no truer words have been spoken.

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