I know the few times I post these days, I spend my precious minutes and word count lamenting that I don’t have time to write, which is idiotic. And yet impossible to avoid. (This article on The Cut—which has been producing amazing coverage of relationships, feminism and motherhood this past year—better articulates my battle with the clock, with quite a positive spin).
But this is why I don’t have time: Because Parker is all-consuming, absolutely entertaining, and even though I miss the threads of my former identity—reading, writing, working out, going out, movies—I'm absorbing and relishing every second of it. Even if some days I'm bone tired, I know this is all fleeting. And precious. And fun in its own insular way. Besides, how do you say no to the cutest peanut on earth?