I Can't Write...

a list of excuses for a random day in June

I can’t write¹ because my husband wakes me up by bringing me coffee in bed every morning. He sits next to me and together we cuddle the dog, talking about anything and everything on our minds. Living these tender moments feels like a better use of my morning time than hiding away in my office trying to write.

I can’t write because I spend hours of every day reading aloud with my kids, not only our school books but picture books, chapter books, and sometimes magazines.

I can’t write because on Memorial Day we decided to rearrange our house on a whim, giving my girls their own bedrooms. It meant moving almost every single piece of furniture we owned. Hundreds of books, school supplies, along with my craft and writing gear—and all their shelves—had to be moved upstairs. Beds, dressers, mattresses, and clothes all had to be moved downstairs. It was like moving, except without any boxes. I am finally down to one laundry basket of stuff to put away.

I can’t write because every time I sit on the couch with a notebook and pen, my puppy crawls into my lap, wanting to snuggle. As soon as he leaves, a kid curls up next to me, wanting to know what I’m doing and if she can have a snack.

I can’t write because something traumatic happened to our family last week. I was sitting at the dining room table when I got the call and every time I walk into the room my chest starts to hurt. When I sit down to write any words, I break down in tears. It’s too uncomfortable to feel all the feels, so I just keep moving to the next thing instead.

I can’t write because I found a gallon of the perfect color of paint for only $10. Painting the walls of my office a new color brings me an immense amount of joy in a time when being at home feels incredibly hard.

I can’t write because it’s 95 degrees and sunny outside and the beach is an eight minute drive from my house. Sure, I could write at the beach, but …

I can’t write because there are more than 25 books on my summer reading list and each one of them is worth every minute of my time.

I can’t write because it’s strawberry season and I want to make all the strawberry things. I want strawberry season to last longer than a few weeks, but I know if it lasted forever, some of the magic would disappear.

I can’t write because when I stare out my new office window, I am mesmerized by the leaves swaying in the wind. My eyes stay glued to the multicolored hydrangeas as I wonder why each petal is a slightly different hue.

I can’t write because there are curtains to hem, laundry to wash, dry and fold, dirty dishes in the sink and clean ones in the dishwasher, meals to be made. Because there’s beach sand on the floors that needs to be vacuumed and mopped away. Because life is busy, and beautiful, and hard all at the same time.

I can’t write because I get caught up in finding the perfect next word. It takes me forever to identify what it is I really want to say. And sometimes there aren’t words powerful enough to capture the the story hanging out in my head.

Until one day you make yourself sit down with pen and paper and just write.²

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Until next time,

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1. Inspired by this post by

Dani Elgas

and this one by

Kimberly Knowle - Zeller

2. Are you struggling to write? If so, I’d love for you to write your own post and share why!