I’d Like a Stay-at-Home Husband So I Can Focus on My Writing Career
The only ‘pot-boilers’ I’m churning out are my kids’ dinners.
As the famous Cyril Connolly quote goes,
“There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.”
He’s talking about having kids and the impact they have on your creative time and ability. The word ‘pram’ is to Brits what you would call a ‘stroller’ in the US, but if you speak the language of parenthood, it’s easy to get his meaning.
Being a single parent is exhausting. I feel tired in my bones right now.
If you’re a woman trying to also be a writer full-time, or already an established writer, you will know that it is a juggle and a struggle trying to be a good parent and a creative.
Nobody can be everything they would like to be or do all they would like to do, all at the same time.
Nobody.
The important thing is to understand and accept the limitations all the various hats we wear bring with them.
I read Stephen King’s On Writing to my 11-year-old son last summer because I never get any peace to read alone.
One unexpected discovery from reading King’s semi-autobiographical book is that his wife is a great writer too.
Stephen and his wife Tabitha raised three children while he was working on his early novels.
And if it hadn’t been for Tabitha rescuing the discarded sheets of manuscript from his wastepaper basket, Carrie might not have existed at all. Tabitha was instrumental in the development of the central character. Her understanding of teenage girls and their viciousness was accessible to her in a way that Stephen could not reach. His growing hatred of the character and the story came down to his inability to inhabit the mind of a teenage girl. Without Tabitha that would have remained foreign territory to him and the book would have ended there, in the trash.
Stephen writes that you should take 4–6 hours of focused writing time per day to work towards any project. He clearly was not also taking on 50% of the laundry, cooking, childcare, household maintenance, and admin involved in running their home.
Which leaves me to surmise that the bulk of the grunt work fell to his supportive and talented wife, Tabitha.
I imagine she is happy to have raised three pretty awesome kids but I wonder if she ever resents the success that Stephen has enjoyed, while she has lurked in his vast shadow.
In supporting him, she sacrificed her own creative freedom to enable him to have his.
Reading the book to my son has provided an education for him — even while omitting the swear words and most graphic detail, I still had to contend with discussing the onset of periods and bullying when Stephen recounted the story of the genesis of his first successful novel Carrie.
A bit of bona fide valuable parenting right there…
It’s what I do. I’m always a parent first, a writer second after all the multiple (seemingly never-ending) tasks of single parenting are done.
But imagine if my son had another parent who was always on hand to answer his every question, fulfill his every need, and keep the house in order while I swanned about in my kaftan, being creative.
I guess I’d be living the dream — but it is a far cry from reality.
No bones about it, the summer break is a frustrating time for women trying to get work done while looking after their kids. Add in the pressure of being a single parent and time is no longer an asset but a resource spent before it’s seen.
There is no “spare” time when you’re a single mother.
I’ve enjoyed reading Stephen King’s book to my son. It kills several birds with one stone. I get to glean Stephen’s knowledge and writing tips to apply to my own writing and I keep my son occupied and get to check that box marked ‘parenting.’
I can also fill the gaps between the lines by discussing with my son the unstated facts that Stephen’s success was shaped by the hardworking women who dedicated their time and energy to support him so that he could become the writer he is today.
As I read about the way that SK’s mother worked shit jobs to single-handedly support her boys, I could sense his feelings of neglect but not much of the appreciation that was also warranted.
His tales of the many babysitters he and his brother were left with are often hilarious and sometimes harrowing, but all I could see was the sacrifices his mother made and the hard and constant work that drove her to an early death.
Twice as many women as men quit their jobs during the pandemic. Not from career dissatisfaction, but out of necessity, so that they could care for their children.
But were the children their sole responsibility? Were these women all single mothers without another parent in the mix?
I don’t think so.
I quit my job too, as my office environment was toxic and I wanted so badly to write for a living. I had a beautiful few months, working my ass off and reaping the rewards.
It is a juggle and I learned the reality of burnout. But writing is still in my DNA and sometimes I have to do it to the point of exhaustion. Lately, I’ve taken a few months off to recover and find a more sustainable way to pursue my passion.
But I’m still here struggling on solo, knowing that every single buck stops with me.
There are sure times I’d love to lean into a muscular, protective arm around my shoulders and let someone else carry the burden of being chief breadwinner, bottle-washer, cook, and cleaner so I can feel free to write my heart out and share the stories that nag my every waking moment — straining at the constraints of their brain-cage to be let loose on the world.
Maybe there’s a man out there, somewhere in the world, willing to take on that role and give me the break my body and brain are crying out for.
Or maybe, just maybe this single life will be the making of me as a writer. If necessity is the mother of invention, then she is also the mother of creativity.
What is holding you back from building your ideal creative life? Can you relate, or do you believe there is always a way to balance parenting and work, even in a creative field? I’d love to hear your tips.
This year I have been on a journey from motherhood to grandmotherhood. All these beautiful people are here because of me and the choices I made. The joy-filled experiences they bring have added to my life’s tapestry, not taken anything away. I am grateful for the gift of my family.
They have shaped me as much as I have shaped them.
Time, space, grief, and joy flow ever together, drifting wherever we allow them to drift. Wherever our attention goes, our energy flows.
Spilling some of my thoughts onto a page and encouraging you to do the same is how I roll right now.
I don’t need a man to enable me to do that, even though my offerings are more sporadic lately. It’s just that sometimes it would be blissful to be able to shut myself in my writing room and know that my stay-at-home-husband is looking after the house and the kids, while I build my creative career.
I can always dream.
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