This is hard work. For everyone.
There's a good bit of push back:
I don't want to.
I don't know what to write about.
This takes so long.
It's fine. I don't want to go over it with you.
Why are you saying it's bad? It's bad!
Can you not make me do it over?
Can you give me some topics?
No, I don't like those topics.
I have nothing to write about.
I want to go play. Can't I just go play?
I hate this.
And then you're going to say I have to go outside. I have no free time!
Then I still have to do my chore. I have no free time!
This is boring.
Yesterday morning I plopped myself down on the couch early while the house was quiet and I wrote. Even with only five hours of sleep, I felt happy for so much of the day. Today I intended to do the same thing.
I woke up and journaled. Then Hannah wanted to show me a card trick. Three times. I needed breakfast. I needed a walk. I needed to clean last night's pyrex that was still in the sink. I needed a little snack. At 11:30am I finally got back to the couch (o the discipline to plop on the couch! not even trying to get myself to sit at a desk!) and opened my computer. Sebastian, age fourteen, sat down. He wanted to chat. It's hard for me to pass up an opportunity to chat with one of the kids.
I opened the computer again. Got the blank space.
I have nothing to write about.
I don't know what to write.
What do I write about?
Is there anything worth writing about?
Maybe I should go clean the basement.
Maybe I should offer to play ping pong with one of the kids.
I shouldn't be on the computer so much.
When am I going to review those resumes?
I need a topic.
What's a good topic?
I am my children. Any topic is fine. Just write. Tree trunks. Apologies. Getting started.
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