Writing And Caregiving: Can They Play Nicely Together?

Or is it 'self-sabotage' to love and care for other people AND dare to want to write?

A brief interlude in your day. A coffee break together. For a moment. xoxox

Years ago, a writer I won’t name wondered aloud if I was committing ‘self-sabotage by having four children.’

Deliberately ruining my writing life.

All the things I planned to write about this week shifted when I read

Sophie Ingleby

’s post: I Feel Like a Trapped Octopus.

Her story resonated because of something that happened at the gym the day before while I was trying to work out with two of my kids and my mother-in-law present. When I got them settled, I expressed joy that my kids would return to school after ten weeks of summer.

TEN WEEKS!

“Huh, I don’t feel like that,” another mom replied. She’s lovely. Her kids weren’t with us. Mine were howling at each other and calling me over…

“Good,” I said. “Great.”

“I guess I just really love my children,” she added.

THIS!

She’s a brilliant person, and smart. And I’m happy she loves her children. (I replied that I hate mine and laughed). But what I really thought was, oh, we can love and also want to be away from our beloveds, surely…

Back to

Sophie Ingleby

.

She says of her beloved family:

My daily schedule? Yep, they decide that too. “You think you’re going to get some food in, Mum? HA! Think again”. They decide when I work, when I clean the house, WHEN I USE THE BATHROOM!! I’m not in control of anything!

As a writer with four kids and my mother-in-law in our home, I spend a lot of time caregiving.

Often, I like it.

Last night, I walked in from my son’s soccer tryouts and my mother-in-law was roaming the house in distress, despite my husband beside her. She was looking for something, but didn’t know what. So we opened a book about birds together. Repeated soothing words. Reminded her she was safe. And birds were interesting. And beautiful. And original. Her words.

She quickly calmed down and settled; I enjoyed caring for her.

AND. I’m a writer. I need those lingering hours when nothing’s happening for ideas to percolate. Brew. Pour onto the page.

I might get percolation. I might get a little brew time. Sometimes, I write.

Or not.

Even as I started this, my mother-in-law wandered into my office, lost and puzzled all over again. I jumped up and settled her, popped on a light, gave her a book, and offered her tea.

Is this self-sabotage? Loving like this? Yet wanting to write?

I don’t know the answer. Maybe you do?

I have support and financial capacity and, at the moment, most members of my household sleep through the night. Many other writers or aspiring writers have huge challenges and responsibilities, financial struggles, systemic hurdles or outright blocks, which make getting to the page a distant dream.

Writing might be really hard for you right now.

Even impossible.

But I want these quiet writing moments for you as much as I want them for me.

That writer, years ago, who asked me if it were self-sabotage, tugged something loose. Maybe she was right. Maybe wanting to write and wanting a family weren’t compatible.

Her words impacted me for a long time. It seemed impossible to manage writing and all the other things I need to do.

Yet.

At a literary event, Elizabeth Strout said (something like) she always knew she wanted to write, but, for her, motherhood gave her something she needed, too. The room became still. I saw myself reflected. A writer and a parent. A writer and a caregiver. A writer AND….

Slowly, the words of other writers and mothers helped me understand that I need and want both writing and caregiving, and that these impact my writing life in both negative and positive ways. Those many writers, friends, women, and caregivers have inspired me to make a small semantic shift.

In my case, it’s not self-sabotage. Instead, I use a different word: season.

The leaves are turning yellow, falling from the trees, life will transform sooner than I can imagine. I’ll get more writing time, perhaps, but something golden in this chaotic, intense hurly-burly will be lost.

And all of it might fuel my writing (when I get a moment on the page)…

One final thought:

I’m sure sometimes men get asked, “How do you write and manage a family life?” but I wonder if they’re asked as often? Does anyone ever wonder out loud to them if it’s self-sabotage to want children and to write a novel?

xoxo

Alice

Please share this with someone who you think might find this helpful as they navigate their own busy days.

**I don’t hate my children, in case you wondered.

If you’re new here, my name is Alice Kuipers and I’m a writer, mother and dog-owner transplanted twenty years ago to the Canadian prairies from England. I’ve published fourteen books in 36 countries and my writing has been described as: “For storytellers and story lovers,” by Kirkus Reviews; ‘Gorgeous, heart-ripping, important,” by VOYA; and “Intense and wonderful” by Bif Naked. Join me for coffee breaks to look at lines from great writers.

Xoxo

Read: I’m casting in the waters for the next book to read. I bought Remarkably Bright Creatures and Ground Zero at a recent bookstore outing. Have any of you read either? Recommendations for me? I loved God of the Woods recently…

And maybe this is helpful for those of you parenting kids with ADHD:

Updates: Now the children are back at school (audible cheering!) I’m going to update the About page on Confessions and Coffee and make sure this space and these pieces really feel like pauses in your busy day. Thank you for being a part of this.

Work at The Novelry has been full and fun with our amazing writers and team. If you want to write with me, find me there.

And my book! I’m nearing the end of draft six of my crime novel, while simultaneously getting ready to launch Spark—a book for adults who want to write for kids and young adults—in early November….

Tell me, how are you? What would you like to read more about here with me? Who else do you love on Substack?