Saving My Sanity: Why Writing Makes Me a Better Mom

Saving My Sanity: Why Writing Makes Me a Better Mom

By Debra Manchester

I’ve been a writer since the sixth grade when my English teacher, Mrs. Hassett, liked a fiction story I wrote so much, she had me read it in front of the class. I stood up there terrified as I mumbled through. But afterward, the kids applauded. A few even asked me to read it again at recess. That day healed me of my extreme shyness, and I found my life’s passion.

Needless to say, I’m a few years on from sixth grade now, but I’ve never stopped pursuing the sheer joy that comes with turning my thoughts into prose. I’ve joined and chaired various writers’ groups. I’ve entered (and placed) in short fiction contests. I’ve published a couple of short stories. I’ve even taken enough classes to warrant the piece of parchment hanging over my desk, which assures me that I’m qualified to sit here. But all of that just gives me the excuse to continue doing what I surely can’t do without.

My daughter will occasionally complain when she finds me at my computer and insist that I come play with her instead. And like all of us, I do wonder at times if I’m really giving all I can to my children. It’s a prerogative of motherhood to worry about that. But I honestly worry more about what kind of mother I’d be if I didn’t take time to follow my own heart.

I work from home so that I can be here with my two children. I thought that this would be a less stressful life than my previous career. What I’ve learned is that stay-at-home moms, work-in-home moms and work-in-office moms all have one thing in common. Stress. Loads of it, and it’s not surprising. It takes a lot of effort to teach and mold and snuggle our kids while we balance their diets, fix broken toys and clean their bottoms, while we keep them in long-enough pants, provide the right school supplies and save for college educations, while we, above all, protect them from harm. As if that’s not enough, we try to be our husbands’ best friends, our friends’ best friends and good daughters to our own parents. Then there’s work, volunteering, exercise, extended family…. It never ends. It’s exhausting, and it threatens to make me crazy every day.

I’ve found that the best way back to center is to do something solely for myself. I so look forward to this time every day, sitting at the computer. Vacations I’ve taken become settings to stories, and I’m there once again. The characters’ dialogue becomes that adult conversation I’ve been lacking all day. I leave behind my schedule of pre-school runs, diaper changes and dish washing and follow a plot where life is so urgent, there’s no time for vacuuming. I re-engage my creative self, and I become myself again.

I don’t see how this can be anything but good for my family. It’s the creative me that my husband fell in love with, not the nanny/cook/housekeeper-me (though he loves her, too). When my imagination is engaged, I can play deep-sea explorers with my daughter and actually enjoy it. I can make up silly songs that make my infant son giggle. Taking time for me is actually giving me back to my family, and I wouldn’t change things for the world.

Debra Manchester is a freelance writer from Ypsilanti, Michigan. When she's not busy being mom to her little ones, Debra writes short stories and science fiction. To learn more about Deborah's writing, contact her at debra_manchester@hotmail.com.

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