You know how you hear people say things like “Gee, I wonder where my writing time went?” Well, I know exactly where my writing time has gone. It’s called Max.

Writing with a kid is an adventure. I don’t know, honestly, how some authors do it. Kristina Springer, for instance, has four children. Four. I’m not sure how she even makes it out of the house (not that I’ve met her kids and I’m sure they’re all lovely, well-behaved cherubs, I just know that there are days I don’t make it out of the house and I’ve only got one).

This morning was pretty classic. Up at 7:45 (I will admit here that I don’t get up until The Max gets up. Because this is how I get sleep. If I had the constitution of, say, my husband, I would get up at the crack of dawn and type then. Except for the fact that my brain doesn’t make sense until after 9, so it would be kind of useless anyway.), The Max immediately declared he needed to go poopy. Since we’re potty training and it’s only going so-so, I escorted him to the potty and plopped him down.

Fast forward an hour and a half. No poopy. And the mother’s helper (a neighbor girl who homeschools comes to play with Max sometimes so I can actually, you know, write) is due to come at 9:30 and I haven’t had a shower yet (or brushed my teeth, Gah!) and neither of us are dressed. So I move him and his potty chair en masse to my bathroom so I can take a shower (because you can’t leave a 2 1/1 year old on the potty alone if he says he’s got a poopy. Really. You can’t. He’ll still randomly use the potty chair as a hat.)

Then he wants to take a shower too. I take the world’s fastest shower and then, since he’s having a meltdown, he has a quick shower too. Then we get dressed (wherein he refuses my first couple of shirt selections for him). Then I pop up an Eggo waffle in the toaster because we have 5 minutes until Lydia arrives.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

I am not super mom.

But now, here it is 10 and I’ve got an hour and a half more writing time, so I’m going to stop taking this breather (because that’s what this blog post is…I know I should have just jumped right into writing, but I needed to take a breath first or else who knows what I would’ve done to my characters.) and get back to it. Because who knows when the next interruption will be.

Did I say interruption? I meant life.