Yesterday, Tuesday, is my usual writing day. Toots goes to preschool, I go to my writing group twice per month or the library on other Tuesdays. Grandma picks Toots up from preschool, so that I can go into the afternoon to have a good run of editing before the boys start coming home from school. I thought I could edit at home yesterday, between a bunch of phone calls and sundry things. Of course, I couldn't focus on the manuscript to even take my edit copies out of their bag, let alone open the document.
I decided earlier in the week that I would write on Wednesday, but yet again, I can't get out of the house to do so as Toots is home, and Grandma will be in and out because of appointments. Usually I can grab a Wednesday morning of child care from her, because Wednesdays are the day she typically stays home.
I had a great breakthrough in the edits last week, and writing became fun again. It hasn't been fun for this whole 'final draft' process. I still love my story and characters and everything, but I am very ready to jump back into my imagination and start something new, so I am not very pleased about going over the material I've been working on for eons yet again. But last week, my muse blessed me, and I loved it.
I am hoping I will manage to at least do some more typing into the new document between laundry loads (I've been bad this week re: laundry, and the boys have been begging for socks, underwear and jeans for a few nights now, even though there are three clean, unfolded baskets in my room from the past couple of weeks) while Toots is watching various selections from Netflix streaming. "Mommy, I want Yeyyow Kipper!" "Mommy I want Yeyyow Byues Cues!"
But even as I am typing this somewhat of a get it out of my system post, I have miss squirmy worm wiggling on my lap trying desperately, and cutely, to get my attention, and I am thinking that I need to switch laundry loads, and I still need to fold those three old baskets upstairs, and the rain just stopped and I should go at least start some seedlings in a pot until I can can have Honey's help to move that raised bed to the sunny side of the yard, and this is why I leave the house to write.
Ugh. But I am determined to take those critiqued copies out of my bag. After all, I cleaned off my desk yesterday, and now they'll fit. :)