WRITING AROUND CHILDREN

How to make it slightly less impossible

I have my own, quite odd, associations* with the quote There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall. But I get it. Achieving anything - even a trip to the dump, let alone ‘good art’ - can feel impossible alongside children. Especially if, like me, you work for yourself from home.

My problem is that I’m an organised person, trapped in a disorganised person’s body (and family). Since 2013, when I wrote my first book and had my first baby, I’ve fantasised about a neater, more streamlined life. I dream of long, windows of regular writing time when my three sons are at school. But instead I often I find that window shattered, or shrunk, or just steamed up by all the other things that NEED to be done.

Occasionally, though, I find a strategy that actually makes things run more smoothly. And when I do, I become evangelical about sharing it. So even if you aren’t attempting to write, or create art, and just want to conquer the laundry, one of these may help.

Warning - the following advice is truly, shockingly mundane. If sock-matching and water bottle pairing do not directly impede your life or creative projects, leave now.

the inside of my head

LEAVE HOME

Not literally, in the All Fours / Doris Lessing sense. But if you struggle with distraction/fogginess when you sit down to write alone, take your laptop somewhere public. I alternate cafes and libraries because I don’t like working in the same place every day. This goes against all Room Of One’s Own advice, but a writing shed is my nightmare (I like being near people, just not talking to them). On that note, if you’re writing in a cafe take ear plugs, or you’ll be driven insane by NCT groups talking about weaning (nothing worse). And find places that are militantly offline if you can… Many Waterstones cafes have no WiFi, and just seeing the signs is an incentive not to link my laptop to my phone, and to write instead. Also all the bestsellers 😩.

THE WASH-BY-CHILD LAUNDRY RULE

I used to shove all three children’s dirty clothes in the wash, and hope to sort them into piles afterwards. In practice this meant often rummaging through a mountain of clean, jumbled laundry at 8.30am, frantically checking labels to identify whose joggers were whose. Now I wash each child’s clothes separately (add their sheets or towel if you need to make up a load… just never a sibling’s clothes!). Somehow, this makes it about 60% easier to put away.

SINGLE SOCK POLICY

Despite the above, each child is also only allowed ONE type of sock (or two if they have school uniform). Because no parent feels creative after twenty minutes of trying to work out which nearly identical navy sock goes with which. Multi-coloured multipacks like this are ideal as they give the illusion of variety, but can be paired fast, look fine if they’re mismatched and remain distinct from sibling socks.

PACKING

I hate packing, but I liked this post by

The Real Sarah Miller

which compared packing to dishwasher emptying. I also recommend storing these items permanently in whichever suitcase you usually pack your kids’ stuff:

one pair of old pyjamas / clean pants / socks for each child

toothbrush for each child

kids toothpaste

Calpol

If these are already in the suitcase you’re basically sorted for any overnight stay, and only need to add clothes / suncream / entertainment for longer trips. It doesn’t work for babies, but why travel with a baby?

NOT BEING LATE

My children have been given watches, but they never wear them. Maybe because nobody really wears watches, now we use our phones? So recently I bulk bought these cheap alarm clocks and placed them everywhere - in bathrooms, on desks, above my modus operandi (the washing machine) etc. I think we’re now more punctual, and I tell myself it encourages time management in the kids… I know it stops me spending 20 minutes in the shower just to be alone (and makes me check my phone less).

POST-SCHOOL PACKED LUNCH

I’m going to get really granular now, because catering eats up so much time/energy. I used to take snacks when I collected my children from school, then do their dinner around 5pm, then aim to eat with my husband around 8. But somehow this meant everyone was eating constantly, but not really together, with me saying on repeat ‘You’re about to have dinner’ or ‘You’ve just had dinner’ (also about 50 dirty plates).

Now I take a small second lunch for each child to the school gates, then eat dinner with them at 6.30. It’s still not ideal (that would be a cook), but the second lunch helps the post-school mood and eating early myself creates more time later correspondence (my Diary Of Provincial Lady word for inbox clearing). This way, emails don’t eat into your writing window the next day. Also hardly anybody replies at 9pm (yay).

BEDMIN

I can’t write in bed, but when I’m really behind on admin I give myself a whole day of ‘bedmin’ (admin chores undertaken in bed). It’s essential to make the experience as indulgent as possible. So you have to accompany the bedmin with lots of tea / toast / browsing Sezane while you’re on hold to HMRC. You’ll also need loads of cushions, and something like this to complete your bed-office.

WATER BOTTLES

I’m with Hugh Grant on water bottles, but this method makes me hate them slightly less. When you empty the dishwasher, instead of putting half-wet bottles away you fill them and put them in the fridge. This way lids+bottles stay united, and bottles are always either in the fridge / dishwasher / at school (ie you now have a free cupboard where you used to keep them). Ps don’t hand wash, get these.

LIFE CHANGING MAGIC OF HAIRDRYERS

Children love it if you warm up their bed with a hairdryer before they get in. I keep an old hairdryer in their room for this purpose. It takes a second, but magically gets them into bed and ends the day on a delighted/snuggly note. Ditto, hair-drying their clothes to make them get dressed (also turns socks into an entertaining shape). These are serious things, not to be underestimated.

* The pram in the hall is the most sombre enemy of good art is always attributed to Cyril Connolly, but according to my family folklore Henry James first said it to my great grandfather the critic Desmond MacCarthy, on seeing my grandmother Rachel’s pram. MacCarthy later told Connolly, who apparently claimed it as his own. This might be untrue! There’s no way to check. But I like the idea that my sons’ Bugaboo may be a direct descendant of the original pram in hall.

** regardless of who said it first, I think the biggest enemy to art is the thermometer in the bathroom. Over the past decade of motherhood + writing I’ve definitely lost at least one book to children’s sick days and medical appointments (despite years of breastfeeding / vitamins / immunisations / hand-washing / playing in dirt to offset the hand washing etc). Why are children always ill??? And what are your best tips for writing around parenthood?