Chunking!

Wendy Wisner's newest piece for Scary Mommy introduced me to the word chunking:

"The latest theories on time management advise strongly against multitasking—good news for me. The new catchphrase is “chunking,” and it basically means that rather than trying to get everything done at once, you set aside specific chunks of time, and then just work. Do nothing else."

I love this word that describes my approach to accomplishing anything since adding motherhood to the juggling act of cobbling together a full-time job from part-time ones: poet, adjunct, writing teacher and private writing coach. (How's that last sentence for mixed metaphors? That is pretty much what it feels like. Varied, fun and sometimes confusing.)

I live by my calendar program. I input everything, from taking a walk to doing laundry to grading exams to submitting poems to hustling for teaching assignments the following semester. Everything is color coded and in-person appointments are in separate "calendars" shared with my husband, so that we can better coordinate who is picking up our son from daycare and when we might be free for, imagine that!, a date night.

My main time management tip is to literally schedule your writing time and other projects that easily get pushed to the side since the creative projects are (usually) less time sensitive. If you schedule the time to write and accomplish a task, one that you want to do or would rather procrastinate, you will actually show up to do it.

It is like setting a timer: You can focus on anything for a short period of time and then give yourself a break. But first, you have to show up and do the work. And then it will perhaps be done, but at least be started.

What is your best approach to making sure that the balls you are juggling don't hit you in the head on their way down?

Money & Kids & Writers

When we were getting married, friends and family encouraged us to discuss finances as completely as possible. Financial disputes are known predictors of divorce. It is easy to see if religious and political views align, but it is harder to talk about the almost endless aspects of individual and merged finances. How much will each make, save and spend? What are we each willing to give up in order to gain something else? What will we teach a future child about finances?

As I make college and graduate loan payments and list things to buy during future holiday sales, I think about this. There's the obvious beginning: counting and how to determine a per unit cost.

Then there are the more complex financial lessons about preparing for a life, starting with choosing first jobs, college, career and social choices. How much to save for housing, retirement, clothes, technology, and more? Everything can be added and subtracted, but surprises happen. There are clear professional paths with likely incomes and murkier ones, like a writer's life.

It is a privilege to dedicate time to a writer's life rather than spending every minute working for cash and worrying about shelter and food. There are sacrifices that need to be made to find that time while also supporting ourselves. Those "sacrifices" aren't painful because of the delicate balance my husband and I have decided on and work to maintain.

How will we teach our son these lessons that we've learned both organically and sometimes painfully? Here are some interesting and (fairly) recent articles on this large topic. What else would you add?

Most People In the World Have No Idea How to Manage Their Money (Atlantic)

Student Loan Facts They Wish They Had Known (NYT)

The Five Biggest Financial Mistakes Young Parents Make (I'd edit that to read "new" instead of "young"...) Parents 

Out of Town and Back Again

I’m back from a successful visit to Fitchburg State University and an invigorating visit to Boston to visit with college friends. And when I returned, everything was ok with my family. I’m back at my desk feeling both professional and loved.

 

I was invited to Fitchburg State University by Dr. DeMisty Bellinger-Delfeld to give a reading, food writing talk and Q&A. I loved preparing for the events. I had an opportunity to think seriously about food writing in connection to my Italian definition poems. It was also flattering to be interviewed for the school paper before my arrival. 

Later in Boston with my college friends, it was dreamy to have time to talk, laugh, even cry, eat and drink throughout Boston. It has been almost 20 years (!!!) since we were all on campus together at Smith College. We can still start up right again as if we were back at a round table in the flower wallpapered dining room.

Our children need to see us doing things for our professional and personal lives. And we need to do those things. Is it hard to find the time, money and generally organize such things to happen? Yes, for sure. Did I prepare too much lasagna for my boys and generally spend too much time organizing all the things my husband knows how to do? Sure. Maybe next time I can relax before leaving, too, as my own confidence builds.

Away, I took long showers in the hotel and caught up on Poets & Writers and New Yorker issues over breakfast. What a delight to have some extra quiet time to think and rest. 

I am so happy to be back home with my boys in my arms again, ready to color with the littlest one and catch up on everything he’s done with the biggest one.

Boston

Planning Ahead (or, "Previous Pregnant Panic")

As tax day approaches, I remember being pregnant in 2013 and organizing our tax documents in what is now the baby's room. It seemed to me that if I didn't do everything - everything - before the baby arrived, I'd never get it done. I wanted to organize the documents for my taxes for the last year and the following 18, even though I (mostly) understood the impossibility of it all.

I couldn't imagine having time to do anything once the baby was here. If I could have showered in advance to knock that off of my list, I would have.

My mental do-list was long and varied, including: Finish my poetry manuscript and submit, food shop for every panty item we might ever need and grade papers for classes that weren't yet open for registration. As it turned out, our son arrived three weeks early and so many things were left unfinished the moment he arrived. And we all made it through unharmed.

The morning I went into labor, my husband installed the car seat and I put the last item - socks - into the hospital bag. Maybe we somehow knew the moment was coming or maybe that Saturday was just the time we had. I didn't know that the next evening some poetry friends had organized a small shower for me. I was sad to have missed that celebration, as well as finishing our son's room quietly at midday, without the bustle of visitors and a constantly hungry baby.

We had diapers, a crib, car seat and some infant clothes when he arrived in the dry world. While these were the basic necessities and could ask for help if needed more, I was panicked. What would our son, a then-stranger growing inside of me, think of this unprepared woman placed in charge of him?

It turns out he liked and likes me, unprepared and prepared. And I am quite smitten with him.

Our son turns two in three months and the winter, along with the incessant colds and snow days, has melted away. I've showered most days and not only finished a manuscript, but started to submit it for publication. I have a crazy long to-do list and try to work ahead, just in case something unexpected comes up (as it often does,) but I also try to be here in the moment.

Our taxes are organized and there are growing piles on my desk, but yesterday my son and I played peekaboo under a blanket-fort when he was home from daycare. Today, the piles are still there and the sky hasn't fallen. He's back in daycare, so we couldn't play peekaboo today and I can work through those piles. I'm glad to have spent the (available) time together, even if I did glance at my desk a few times.

I'm hopeful about the spring and having some time to catch up, work ahead and spend more time playing outside with our son. Playing when the sun is shining, regardless of what has or hasn't been done yet.

I try to remember that it will all get done. And when some things don't, I embrace my inner Jersey girl: fuggedaboutit!

Not Writing? Go Ahead and Complain

I often find myself sharing complaints about our lack of time with other parent writers. Or about how we aren't writing. Or reading. And how tired we are. We whine and glorify the "old" days of residencies, conferences and MFA programs.

These complaints matter. Finding a community of other parent writers helps to remind you, the one changing a million diapers, taking the dirty diapers out to the garbage in the snow and then buying more diapers, that you are also a writer.

We are all in this together.

The particular writer-parent friendship can mean the world to another writer-parent. Take a few precious moments to share your frustrations with writer parent friends and then encourage each other. Offer to babysit / have a playdate so the other parent can write and then swap so the other can write. Live too far away from each other to see each other? Listen on the phone or via email and offer emotional support.

As I tell my writing workshop students after a productive, in-class five minute free-writing exercise, we can (usually) all find five minutes to sit down and write. Remember that even just five minutes a day can add up.

As the Italians say, "Forza!" Strength! You can do it, friend. I know you can.

Residency & Funding Resources for Parent Writers

Time is money and time for writing can be particularly expensive at a formal residency, especially considering daycare costs back home. I blogged for Minerva Rising about a Do-It-Yourself Residency with a fiction writer at her home in Indianapolis. As two parents who write, the quiet time was incredibly helpful to our writing. If you are thinking about setting up your own, inexpensive writing residency, I hope you'll read through the post and the links.

Here are some more parent-writer-friendly-resources for residencies. What else would you recommend?

Millay Colony’s Virtual Residency

Island Hill House (accepts children/caregivers)

Caldera Residency (accepts children/caregivers)

Sustainable Arts Foundation (grants)

Vermont Studio Center (residency and grant for childcare)