If you’re anything like me, you have a hard time integrating your writing life into the rest of your life. By the time I’m done cleaning the house, making meals, washing sippy cups, and changing dirty diapers, the last thing I want to do is use my son’s precious naptime to write. And sometimes, I just can’t make myself. Sometimes, I just need to sit down with a hot new YA or romance novel and a cup of tea. That’s okay. Most days, though, I find myself motivated enough to write.
I like the days I write. It’s a lot like exercising. I often get an endorphin rush when I write. I think it’s the combination of accomplishing something mixed with doing something that is just for me, something that doesn’t involve being a wife or mom. Sometimes, you get so caught up in the labels that you can forget you are someone beyond that. Writing gives me myself back. That’s a pretty good reason to write.