I had a lot of big ideas about how much writing I would be able to do once I gave birth to my baby. Being pregnant made me so tired that by the time the kids were in bed it was all I could do to drag my sorry self to the Big House and blog for a while. And it took up so much creative energy to form a little person that I lost all inspiration for writing the novel that I've been working on for about a year now. Or, I should say, was working on. Until I was about three months pregnant with the Leaf Baby and just couldn't force myself to work on it anymore. With every pregnancy, creativity has gone down the drain. And then, as soon as I have the baby, I'm overflowing with ideas and inspiration again. The only problem is, well--let me put it this way: when I get around to brushing my teeth regularly again, I'll let you know. Right now I'm typing this with one hand while I jiggle a fussy baby with the other.

That said, I still have a ton of hope for future writing. I've actually started thinking about my book again; the characters, different things I want to change, and either all the awards I'll win when it's published to great acclaim, or how humiliated I'm going to feel when no one wants to publish it and I have to pay to get one miserable copy made at Kinko's. Yes, I flip-flop a bit. (No more flip-flopping, Rae, remember?)

So, the other day, when Chinua and I took off in our new van for the day with the kids, and drove out through the Redwoods to the beach, and it took us hours and hours because of having to stop to feed the baby and change the baby and feed the kids, and oh we need gas, and finally we made it to the beach just in time for the magic hour of light that turns everything into gold, all I wanted to do was write about it. And then when we met a kind dry-humored man with an English accent who invited us over to his house to see the rammed-earth structure that he had in his beautiful garden, which was filled with all sorts of sculptures, and when we took him up on his invitation and made a new friend, all I wanted to do was write about that.

(The Superstar Husband just came in, so now I'm typing with two hands again.)

One day I'll figure out how to combine inspiration with time-management and then I'll really be cracking. Until then, it's almost enough to sit and daydream about painting and stories while I nurse my baby and remember that he won't be this small for long.

He's pretty amazing. Today some of my friends had a little tea-party/welcome-baby party for me and we had tea and scones and tiny itty yummy sandwiches. There were two other gorgeous babies there, and it really struck me how amazing it is that God formed a mother's heart to be captured by her baby, because no matter how cute I think those other babies are, I really have eyes only for Leaf, and he's the one who goes everywhere with me, so of course that's the way it should be. And I know it's the same with the other mothers there. No matter how much we ooh and aah over other people's kids, in our hearts we all know that ours are the best.