Day 19, #NaNoWriMo: To Mothers Who Want to Write a Novel

This is for all the mothers who want to write a book, who are writing a book, who have tried to write a book, or who are too damn scared to write a book; listen to rap music or country music or any other music that’s different from what you normally listen to, dance on the sidewalk even if people are looking, laugh as loud as you can, leave the dishes in the sink, throw the kids’ clothes in their drawers — they’ll mess them up anyway — if they don’t like it, let them fold it; make new adventurous meals with vegetables you can’t pronounce, buy a random person a coffee, impulsively smile at a stranger on the sidewalk and say, ‘Top of the Day to Ya’, compliment that lady on her bright yellow shoes, make faces at babies even if you’re past the baby phase and you’re glad, stop ironing your damn clothes and never, ever iron underwear or sheets, I mean, are you kidding me? — and take that computer to a coffee shop every day, every goddamn day, and type for fifteen minutes or twenty or a hundred and twenty and be proud of it, and then when you have done this for yourself and your dreams, hug those children tight and accept them for who they are and love them ferociously, most especially when they push back and say you’re weird or you shouldn’t wear socks with clogs or you sing funny or they want you to be a normal mom because the truth is they don’t want you to be a normal mom, whatever that is, they want you to be you and they want you to show them that you love them no matter what and it’s safe to pursue their dreams and be as weird and beautiful as they want to be because you are as weird and beautiful as you want to be.