It is September and I am just now recovering from August. August is typically a busy month for us. It’s our anniversary month and Eric’s birthday, plus back to school. Y’all,
I barely survived back to school shopping this year.
I need to do some serious research on the best way to not die while clothes shopping. I feel the need to write an apology letter to a certain store. Not because I behaved badly, but for a length of time, I laid on their floor. One of my beloved children struggled with making a shoe choice and I couldn’t go on. I just laid down on the floor to wait it out. I waited a while.
On the plus side, I now know which store has comfy floors.
It’s just been a really big struggle for me to get into the swing of things. I had grand plans of what my days would look like once the kids were back in school. I imagined that I would have time to write, work a little, and still care for all that comes with having a family. The biggest disappointment for me is that I was thrown a loop, which meant writing would have to take a back seat for a bit.
Hank, my almost-four-year-old, has a fairly significant speech delay. He has been receiving speech therapy for a while now and is making progress. We’ve had to increase the therapy, and he is in school where he has even more intervention. Speech therapy has a firm grasp on one day a week. Then his school changed the time of day he would attend.
That meant that all other things needed to adjust. All my grand plans had to adjust.
It’s fine that they had to adjust. Hank’s needs are important. All the kid’s needs are important. But, so are mine (said in a tiny whisper).
Writing is the thing that I do that makes me feel like the most myself. It’s an act of worship for me. Each word, thought, sentence and paragraph is a miracle to me. I come alive when I sit down to write.
As dramatic as it sounds I’ve spent a few weeks mourning my grand writing plan. Truthfully I’ve been fairly grumpy about it. Just because I know that putting my writing a bit lower on the list of priorities is right doesn’t mean it’s easy. Doing the right thing is almost never simple. Choosing the right thing is hard.
I’ve cried, whined and complained, but I am choosing what is right.
Words have been around for a long time and they will wait for me. I will still squeeze in little moments, and those little moments will hold me over for now.
In case you are worried that I may be holding it against Hank, don’t worry. I’m not.
I am waiting desperately to hear him say Mama and tell me exactly what he wants and needs.
He is working so hard, and we are all helping him get there. That makes it worth it all.
Erin Spatz lives in Pawleys Island and is the author of the book, “Who Left Me In Charge.”