So, hubby type person took the kiddies camping for the weekend. It sounds like they had a ball. They left Friday afternoon and are due back here in a few hours.
Yes, dear friends, I had the whole lovely weekend to myself. I couldn’t even talk to the kids on the phone because the reception was bad, so my communication with the family was relegated to hubby’s text messages via my email.
Once they got on the highway, he called to let me know where they were, what they did all weekend, etc. etc… and after a glorious recap of the friends my daughter made (my ten year old can and will make friends anywhere, she was invited to other people’s camps for dinner and even to a birthday party after having been there barely a day… of course, he couldn’t let her go off with people he just met, still she found it nice to be asked… she even garnered the whole family an invitation to spend the evening with another family at their campfire…she’s a trip, that one)
Anywhoo, after his glorious recap he asked what I did all weekend.
I wrote. I noodled my current wip a lot, I wrote, I deleted, I wrote some more… I made notes, I looked up some things, I played online and checked in at blogs… I wrote… That’s what I did pretty much all weekend.
To which he asked, okay, you wrote, but did you buy the kids school supplies?
Umn, no. Not yet. I’ll go this week, I guess.
Did you clean out their rooms? Did you organize the house? Did you stock up on groceries? Did you balance the checkbook or anything?
No… I did not. I thought about it, and then I passed. Listen, I have to do all of those things, I even thought I’d get to some of them this weekend, but no… I did some laundry… but, yanno, the machine can run while I’m still writing. I didn’t cook I didn’t clean I did nothing that would resemble work for the household, it was all about writing. I wrote. That’s what I did.
Huh… hubby replied, a bit taken back. And then he bit his tongue, which was a wiser decision than he knows. He will come home, look around the still somewhat disorganized household, and wonder why he married such a lazy woman.
Guess what… I don’t care. I wrote. It’s very rare that I get the chance to just think about the writing from sun up to sun down… I took it. I get that he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t see any progress there, he only hears me say that I wrote but since there’s no promotion or paycheck involved I might as well tell him I spent the weekend drunk or zoning out in front of the tv.
And usually I feel very guilty when I spend that kind of time on my writing and not with the kids or on other people’s stuff. But I’m not doing it today. I can get in the cleaning later. Hell, they can help me clean – they live here, too.
So how about you guys? What did you do with your weekend? And do you feel guilty spending time on your writing when it’s not the job that pays the bills? Does your spouse support you in your writing and see that time as valid?