My kid said I was the only mom who moaned at the mention of summer vacation.
"Most moms like spending time with their kids. They want them home."
I laughed. Really, really laughed, like one of those Rosie-oops-I better change my drawers laughs.
It's not that I don't want to spend time with my kids. I love them. They amuse me. They help me. They bring me joy.
They are also loud and busy and messy and needy and yearn to be the center of my attention.
Did I say I write in an open room in my house? Did I say I write best with peace and solitude? Did I say I tend to walk around with pages, reading them aloud, pacing the clear, wide areas of the house looking for inspiration? Did I say I tend to produce less work in the summer, but failed to figure this in to my spring work?
So, this next few weeks, before I pack up my two kids and their two friends and drive them to the beach, I will try to learn to write wearing headphones, in the bathroom, balancing my laptop on my knees, behind a locked door.