To all my fellow writers voicing depression and writers block —

Get up. Take a shower. Write what is in your heart.

Maybe the muses want us angry, raw, and spiraling cursive-written, poetic justice when there is none else to be had.

If the typing isn’t working, pick up the goddamn pen.

Write.

I’m an #OldestDaughter

Of course, I’m going to listen to all your problems, while sipping my lukewarm cafecito, and have practical answers for every single one of them.

☕️

I have just spent hours cleaning and rearranging the living room from our holiday season (the non-decoration part of cleaning up).

It’s beautiful. So clean.

Just don’t look at any other room in my house. 🥹

Ah, the soul-crushing sound of a toddler dumping every bin in the living room after it was just cleaned.

Some people handle the memories of bad dates by acknowledging it isn’t their present and moving on.

Then there is me: dwelling on them so hard years and years later, I have no choice but to turn those bad dates into comedic, short stories because one can’t make that shit up.

If only the dishes and laundry would do themselves. (And I mean put themselves away, too.)

In the words of Phoebe Buffay, “Happy Christmas Eve Eve!”

I keep telling myself to start wrapping those presents *now*. That would be the kind thing to my future self.

But then, I think, is it *even* Christmas if I don’t stay up way too late on the 24th, fighting my husband for the scissors and tape, just doing that Santa thing…?

Somehow, I’ve ended up writing a fantasy. As I’m editing that explain-all-the-magic-to-the-chosen-one-scene, I find that one magically-inclined character who is willing to say “*That* isn’t weird at all,” to be my favorite.

I saw a post about not wanting to go into brand-new 2024 but feeling a gently-used year like 2015 would be good. I’d be good with that if that didn’t mean I also go back to “2015 me” because that girl was struggling.

This last week, I’ve had to reevaluate the oldest’s (5yr) bedtime routine. Instead of repeatedly sending him to bed, we’ve been listening an audiobook while I knit in his room. It’s not been perfect, but it’s the time we both need, and bedtime has been going so much better because of it.

Bow tie #pasta is the fine line between entertaining kids’ food and black-tie, fancy food.

Do not underestimate the power of girlfriends who gather…

What I like about editing my first try at a novel: really diving into the details of my characters to make them relatable.

What I don’t like about editing my first try at a novel: becoming so invested in my own characters, I forget they are, in fact, creations of my own imagination.

Something about eggnog in my morning #coffee just hits different…

The kind of fog today is very demure, very tasteful, very Charles Dickens.

I am at the stage of #parenting where it’s really hard.

You know, the part where you’re breaking generational curses, reparenting yourself, and still trying to be a patient teacher to new humans?

I’m in awe of the moms who can pull off the #writing career while doing the mom thing, too. Producing quality art while teaching the little humans how to stay alive and be kind is not for the faint…

Rebuilding virtual community is becoming just another Tuesday it seems, but as a person who solo parents a lot, I am glad for the interaction these spaces provide.

#Writers, #readers, #parents, people just trying to keep perspective during the constant crisis that is living these days - hallo.