Bad to worse.

There's nothing like getting pooped on in the wee hours of the morning and not knowing it until you rub it on your nose. (I feed and change him in the dark.)

There's nothing like a fussy baby who only eats a quarter of what he's supposed to every 45 minutes - starting at 3 am, ensuring you are grumpy and irritable when you get up three hours later...if you were ever down in the first place.

There's nothing like getting a phone call first scolding you for something you inadvertantly did wrong.

There's nothing like getting an email from your insurance saying you owe hundreds of dollars worth of doctor's visits for your newborn...who apparently saw a psychiatrist in Texas the day after he was born...in Nevada, and knowing you have to fight them on it.

And to top it off, there's nothing quite like getting your first rejection letter from a publisher saying they don't feel strongly enough about your work to pursue it.

I guess I just have to hope that tomorrow is better.

Good thing I know what is really important: this little ball of wiggles in my arms who can't decide if he's hungry or if he has sour tummy, if he wants held or put down, if he wants his binkie or not...

Ahhhh.... Pin It

8,000 down, 42,000 to go...

I don't know if you remember from last year, but I am participating in NaNoWriMo again this year. November is the National Novel Writing Month, and I have taken the challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days...with a newborn.

For a while I didn't think I could actually do it. Seth was constantly wanting to be held, or needed to be fed, or needed to be changed, or bathed, or...you get the picture. And then when he was asleep I would just sit and hold him, looking at him for the fun of it. When I finally did put him down, the dishes needed done, the floor needed vacuumed, the NEVER ending pile of laundry needed chipped away at, I needed to shower, the whole nine yards.

Finally, last night I went from 4,000 words to just a little over 8,000. Doubling my word count in a matter of hours.

I did the math this morning in my head (running off of little sleep!) and came up with I would have to write 5,000 words a day to meet my goal. I just about cried and then dozed off, smelling defeat. Actually it was just a poopy diaper, but I promise that's what defeat smells like too.

But then this morning, after I finally pealed my eyelids opened, changed that poopy diaper (which he still wasn't done with, so I had to wait until he stopped straining and his color went back to normal), and got on the computer, I re-did the math. I only have to write 1,730.5 words per day to reach my goal.

Yay!

That I can handle.

Yes, it seems like a lot. But if I can get another good writing session or two, I'll be able to get ahead on my goal, thus making it easier to keep up when I fall behind.

But what am I sitting around here yacking for? I've got a novel to write! - Right after I shower and do the dishes.

(PS. does anyone know how to properly spell the word "poopy"?) Pin It