Words, Writing and My Lactation Labotomy


I’ve always been obsessed with words and writing. Forever. In fact, in a way, I’ve already written the words I’m typing. I’ve written them in my head. A few times over, to be honest. I know that makes me sounds slightly psychotic, but it’s how I work. Always have. I’m constantly seeing and experiencing things – and looking forward to being able to sit down and just recount every single second in big, fat, juicy words – literally dripping in descriptive text. Baby brain (or lactation lobotomy, as it’s been for me) has been both a joy and a curse. I’ve been so deep in the baby bubble that my writer’s brain has been switched off. I’ve been beautifully planted in the exact moment – not looking ahead or behind, and seeing nothing more than what it truly vital to me – my baby girl and my family. The curse however, is feeling that my vocabulary has been dripping out my left ear. Word. By. Word. I’ve struggled to find the correct term for basic items like…say…a toaster, or a…um… letterbox. The words sit on the tip of my tongue – and I actually laugh at how ridiculous it is that I can’t quite say them (like Daniel Cleaver laughing at Bridget Jones trying to introduce Mr Tits Pervert). But as Clementine nears her first birthday, and I’ve returned to the workforce, that need to write and create, is back. So, I’m just going to bang out the words (the ones I can remember) and see where they take me.