I’m a night owl through and through (so is my son, which is its own blessing and curse). I can’t remember a time I didn’t feel more productive in the evening. I’ve always felt more comfortable in the dark and cozy time in the night, when everything is quiet, everything is done, and I can finally let my mind play.
That is, until I had my son.
Turns out, as a mom, there is never a time when everything is done. The evening has transitioned for me from a time when I could finally relax and let my imagination run wild, to a time when I have to try and fit in the million things I wasn’t able to get done during the day. To the time when I still have my ear half listening for cries and whimpers, even though my son has been sleeping through the night for almost two years. To a time when I’m so depleted and exhausted, I have nothing left to give to anyone. Not even my story.
At first I thought I needed better systems. Ways to get more done, so there was less remaining to be done at the end of the day. And that has helped. I do feel like I have more mental bandwidth now that I have improved my system. But still, at the end of the day, I felt too tired to do anything. My body and brain were exhausted. Far too tired for the exciting—but also demanding—work of creating. While I love writing, it takes a lot of energy, and focus. And I just didn’t have that at night anymore.
I evaluated all the productivity advice I’ve heard over the years, and tried to think of another solution, but the only one I could come up with was to start my day writing. Its advice many have given before. Focus the beginning of your day on what matters most, when you have the most energy to give. Before, I’d never thought this advice would work for me. Because I’ve always been a night owl writer.
But desperation is the mother of invention, so I decided to give it a try. I set my alarm for six am, went to bed early and prayed for a good result. I even set up a reward system, to incentivize myself for getting up early, fully prepared that it would be like pulling teeth to get myself out of bed before the crack of dawn. And for the first week, I employed that system. But early on, I discovered something I never could have guessed.
I liked getting up early.
It didn’t take long before I began adapted my whole life around waking up early. I was naturally going to bed earlier, so I could get up earlier. I was even waking up before my alarm went off some mornings. I was getting mad when I couldn’t get up early. Because I found that I enjoyed that quiet time in the morning more than the quiet time at night. Because I wasn’t exhausted. I wasn’t already tapped out and only capable of doomscrolling on Instagram. I was able to be me. The person I was before all the mental labor of being a mom.
I started getting more writing done. I am now almost halfway finished with a revision/rewrite project I’ve been wanting to do for years. I’ve been consistently making progress, which I haven’t been able to do for over a year, and I couldn’t be happier.
When I first started this new schedule, I feared it would make the end of the day worse. That I would be run even more ragged than before, since I started the day earlier, but I haven’t found that to be the case. Sure I’m tired at the end of the day, and more inclined to go right to bed after my son falls asleep, but no more so than before. As I’ve made this change, I’ve noticed that getting up early gives me more energy. Taking time for myself in the morning, to focus on me before everyone else, has filled my cup in a way I’d been missing.
I wasn’t just able to do my writing, but to be a better mom too. I was also able to be more patient with my son, because I wasn’t waking up and instantly being thrown into mom mode. I was able to play with him in the morning, because I was already awake and enjoying my day. I found I was writing more. Not just in the morning, but any time I could find. I’m now more inclined to pick up my writing than I was before, because I’m already connected to my story from my morning writing session.
The toddler stage is just a season, and I’m sure that once my son is through this season I’ll need to reevaluate my writing time again. Maybe in the future, writing at night will make more sense. Maybe in the future getting up early won’t be possible (I’m already dreading having to get him up another hour earlier for kindergarten in a few years), but for now I’m changing with the season of life I am in. And I’m grateful I’ve have found a way to be the mom I want to be, while also finding a little time for myself and my own goals. Even if it’s at an ungodly early hour of day.
So if you’re struggling and finding at this moment you can’t fit in what you need, or your losing yourself to the stage of life you are in, take a moment to evaluated what you need. Try to figure out where you can find time for those things, even if its somewhere you might not expect. Play around, experiment, try something new and see if it works. It might not. But once you find what does, and you’re able to find a way to fit yourself into whatever this tough stage may be, you’ll be glad you did.
