A couple of nights ago, Liam and I went to a fancy dinner to celebrate my birthday (the big 4-0!). Afterward, we had the great opportunity to go and see author David Sedaris perform at the Garde Theater in downtown New London. He was hilarious, as one would expect, delighting the audience with his essays and experiences. Turning rather ordinary moments into comedic brilliance.

After the show, I got in line to have him sign one of his books which I had purchased especially for the event. When it was my turn to say hello, I asked him if he had any advice for a wannabe writer. A writer who basically wanted to be…him. He asked me what I wrote and how old I was. I said I was turning forty in a few days and he looked slightly taken aback. I’m hoping it’s because he thought I was much younger than my age, and in fact, not the opposite, although he never did explain the thinking behind his look. Perhaps our encounter will be material for a new story. One about this old lady he met at a book signing who was trying to pawn herself off as twenty years younger than she really was.

Next, he asked me if I wrote every day. Feeling slightly ashamed, I admitted that I didn’t.

“You need to step it up,” he said rather seriously. “You’ve got to write every day.”

I knew this. Know this. But somehow, coming from him, it made me feel like I really do need to get my butt in gear here with this writing game.

Then, the fantastically funny Sedaris opened my book, signed his name, and wrote Step it up. Followed ever so politely by the word Please.

How cool is that?

A few weeks ago, as I was walking down the hallway at the community college where I’m currently teaching two nights a week, I was distracted by some bold words I noticed hanging on the wall. The words were part of a quote that had been taped to the office door of an English professor.

I stopped to read the quote because I was compelled to answer the question I saw posted there:

“Ask yourself in the most silent hours of your night: Must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple I must, then build your life in accordance with this necessity.”
—Rainer Maria Rilke

It seemed to me that the sign had been posted there for my eyes and my eyes alone. Yes, I must write, I answered confidently. Urgently.

Yet—it’s been many, many months since I’ve enjoyed a regular writing routine. Busy life has made it so most days I feel mentally unable to give anything to my creative endeavors, yet totally capable of binge watching hours and hours of Netflix series. I can see now my priorities have been misplaced.

So, in an effort to restore some balance, this post is a baby step in building my life in accordance with the necessity that I must write.

I’m lying in bed right now fighting to stay awake when my eyes just want to close. This is why I don’t write every day. It simply cannot be forced.

So here are some random pictures instead, acting as a permanent placeholder for some quality writing.

Frances sneaking a peak across the driveway to where her brother was climbing the stairs to the house solo. Uh-oh!

The week of the stomach bug when everyone wore pajamas 24/7 and watched about fifty-six hours of TV.

The kids showing of their voting day stickers.

A photo from two weeks ago. We had a beautiful week of weather before all this rain. The sun felt so warm, we just HAD to lie down on the sand and soak it up!

Three bugs watching the tube.

Sounds catchy, right? So let’s try it. What have I got to lose? Even if I don’t make the every day goal, my renewed effort has got to result in something far better than one lousy post in all of April. 

And, since I’ve boldly gone and put it out here, I’ll now have to be accountable. Oh, the pressure! I can’t promise what I have to say will be anything of value, but the writing practice is slipping big time, and that makes me feel sad. Not my best self.

So, stay tuned for more in the coming days!

P.S. I’d give more of an effort tonight, but we’ve just returned from a weekend in Woodstock, NY visiting family. And, I’ve got a just-turned three-year-old asleep on my belly. It’s time to close my eyes, rest my travel-weary self, listen to the rhythmic breathing of a peaceful—finally!—child, and count my blessings.

The blog just celebrated an anniversary. Wahoo! And, it even has a proper address now. Instead of living at the free wordpress.com site, it now resides happily—for just $18/year—at http://www.restlessroost.com. You’ll find the old address still works too.

On January 1st, the people at WordPress sent me some interesting stats from the past year. Included in the report was the below graphic, which I thought was pretty interesting. And humorous, if not at the same time depressing.

It’s sort of like a pictorial insight into the craziness of our lives, and specifically, the frenzied state of my mind. Last January, I posted every day for thirty-one days. In February, I missed just one day (gotta love that resolution time of year!). Even March was impressive. Of course, there were just two children then. And the hubs came home for supper; his work had yet to crank up into crazy overtime.

Then, in early April, the baby came home. I still enjoyed some leisurely writing, it seems, up until about July and August. That would have been the peak of planting season and Liam’s hours at the co-op. September brought with it the reality of back-to-work. Poor October. Poor, poor October. The month of working and packing and moving. November and December haven’t fared much better, I’m afraid.

And January 2016? Well, that remains to be seen, I guess. I’m hopeful the blog will continue. I’m also hopeful that I’ll pick up a rhythm once again. We are mostly settled into our home and Connecticut routine. However, our days these days are so full, and so noisy, I find it hard to find the time and the quiet within which to think about writing. I only think about and stress about how I’m not writing.

So here’s to a new year. And new inspiration. To being kind to myself. To writing when I can. And being OK about it all when I can’t .

And to you out there reading—thanks for being along for the ride!

If you’re just landing here for the first time…welcome! You may want to read about Restless Roost or go back to the beginning to read the posts in sequential order to get an idea of the purpose of this blog. Or, you could start here and go in reverse. Or…well…I could simply step back, try not to be my usual controlling self, and just let you figure it out for yourself.

I made it to Day Ten. I found pockets of time each day to sit alone with my thoughts and write. It was not easy. In fact, it was much more challenging than I thought, especially after I returned to work after the holiday break. Instead of having a whole day full of leisure, I had a window of about four hours in which to write before bed (that’s assuming bedtime is before 9, a reality for me these days). Those four hours also included time for making and eating dinner, visiting with the girls and Liam, giving baths and snuggles, blowing lots of noses, and reading bedtime stories.

I’m glad I stuck with it; there were a couple of nights when I didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off. That being said, I am still going to try to write and post daily. However, based on my experience this past week, I know that it is not likely to be a reality over the course of the year, given a baby is set to arrive on the scene in under three months’ time. I had to sacrifice too much time with the girls and Liam when we already have a limited amount of time together during the week. The blog may end up becoming a weekend only blog, or a three or four-posts-a-week blog. (I just read about how stockpiling posts on the weekends can help ease the pressure of writing everyday, so that might be a possibility).

For now, I’ll just take it one day at a time and see how it goes. And I’m OK with that. Hear that, husband? As usual, I was, you were right.