Writing with twins

Understatement: It’s hard to be a writer when you’re the mother of one-year-old twins.

I knew, of course, that when I had a baby I would have less time for myself. When I found out I was having twins I knew that I would have next to no time for myself. And I had heard that mothers of young children yearn desperately for “adult” conversation, and often fall into baby-talk when they finally engage in some. I had known and heard and pretty much accepted all of this beforehand. Then I started living it.

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Welcome to the Hatchery!

A deep breath, and here we go.

I don’t know what, exactly, this blog is going to be.  But I figured the best way to find out is to just … start.

I’m a writer and a mother.  Sometimes I think these two occupations are perfectly compatible; other times I think I’m living a double life — one half often at the expense of the other.

When I first had an apartment with a room of my own to write in, I didn’t know what to call it.  A study sounded too academic.  An office sounded too … officious.  I even tried the acronym ARoMO (for a Room of My Own), but it felt ridiculous (and sounded more like an Italian restaurant than a writing room).  Somehow the idea of a hatchery popped into my head.  A place to hatch things, to incubate, to launch.

Then I had a child.  Two, actually: twins.  And we moved to a bigger apartment, but one without an extra room for me.  I thought I would mourn my hatchery but for many months I found myself too busy with what I had actually hatched.

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