“It’s not a Guinness record – no ten-foot fingernails or human cannonball. No smallest waist, or longest legs, or 15,000 Barbie dolls. Guinness wouldn’t blink at me. Still, in quiet ways, it’s something. My kids are six and nine and, until last spring, I’d never left them for an overnight.”
For the rest of my essay on the wavering conflicts between motherhood and writing, on guilt and incompletions, please visit me at Literary Mama.
They’re hosting a related writing prompt as well. Check it out here, and submit by August 15th for feedback from their editors and a chance to be published on the Literary Mama blog.
I hope to see you there.