Time to Write

I have two small kids, ages three and nine months. People often ask me where I find time to write.

Find time? I wish I could "find time." Like when you reach in your jeans pocket and pull out a twenty. Found time. "Hey! Look at that! There's the twenty minutes left over from last week."

I've caught myself replying that I "make time." This sounds as if I, a kid lit writer from Arrington, TN, have sole discretion over the space-time continuum. As if I can merely create the two hours I need to finish Chapter Three.

The most accurate description, I suppose, is that I allocate the time I need to write. I have a babysitter who comes three times a week, four hours each day. Twelve hours a week for me to write. If I don't use them for writing, if I use them for cleaning or laundry or holiday shopping, I start to feel itchy. Those twelve hours a week when I'm a vaudeville actress in 1910, or a pompous preschooler with a penchant for half-birthdays, or an over-protective guardian angel who back-sasses The Big Guy, those are the sanest twelve hours of my week. :-)