Hello fellow farmy lovers!
I’m Charlotte, a long-time reader of The Kitchen’s Garden and friend of Cecilia. I’m a novelist, a blogger, a book and writing coach, and a leader of workshops in far-flung locales. And I was delighted when she asked me to pen a guest post for the blog about my experience as a writer living in a multi-generational household.
As I write this, I am at the beach with my multi-gen family for two weeks on vacation. But writers gotta write, and this writer is used to rising early each morning and getting down to it. This is my sacred writing time and vacation is no different. So one morning recently, I was ensconced at the dining room table with my journal and my favorite fountain pen, scribbling my thoughts with a break every so often to gaze out at the view of the Pacific.
And then.
Up pops one of my grandchildren, the eight-year-old, who plops down beside me to get my help with one of his projects—a potholder he’s weaving on one of those metal loop looms. I’m briefly annoyed—my precious writing is being interrupted—but then I stop and pay attention to what he wants.
Because, yes, I’m a writer. And writing is my lifelong passion, my vocation, and my avocation. But I’m also a mother of two grown children, and Nonni to five grandchildren. And even though writing is my passion, my grandkids are my true loves. And when they want something from me, I pay attention.
The interruption of my writing time doesn’t just happen on vacation. At home in Portland, it also occurs regularly. And that’s because my husband and I live in a multi-generational home with my daughter, her husband, and their three boys, ages twelve to three. (My son, his wife, and their two children live a few blocks away.) We live behind them, in a “cottage” built onto the back of the house.
When people ask how I write in this situation, I say, “earbuds and a door that locks.” I am well-familiar with the variety of YouTube videos that play focus music with binaural beats. And my husband and I do make liberal use of that locked door. (Although it is not infallible—anyone who has ever been on a Zoom meeting with me has seen at least one of my grandchildren sneak in and make faces at the screen.)
And so, much to my surprise, my life now as a woman of a certain age is much as it was when I was a young woman trying to find time to write. The constant distractions, the need to unexpectedly ferry a child somewhere, the overloaded brain. But there are two vital differences—those earbuds and that door that locks. Fortunately for us, our daughter and her husband are fully supportive when we need to shut our grandchildren out, a luxury I never had when I was a young mother.
The main rub is this: for so many, understanding the parameters of a career in writing is difficult. Family members get it when I say I have a Zoom meeting or need to dash out the door to teach. But when I say I’m writing, that’s different. I think it’s because writing is a solitary endeavor, just me and the computer. And these days, everyone is on some kind of screen all the time, scrolling, or playing video games, or binge-watching something, and so they assume that’s what I’m doing too. And thus, I am imminently interruptible. But I am teaching them, and they are learning. I soothe myself when I feel guilty for snapping at them by reminding myself that I am modeling what it is like to have a creative career to future generations.
And despite all this, I wouldn’t change our living situation for the world—even for private writing time and space, even for a mega-bestselling novel. Well, maybe for a mega-bestselling novel. Kidding! Because, seriously, I’d miss so much. I’d miss when the youngest, age three, comes into our room as the hub and I are eating dinner, points to our plates, and says, “What’s that?” When we answer, “Corn,” he says, “I like corn.” And one of us is compelled to hand over part of our dinner. Because he is irresistibly cute (and as the littlest, spoiled rotten). I’d miss precious time with my eldest grandson, who uses our house as an escape from his younger brothers, often coming in with a book to read or sometimes just chat. At age twelve and a half, he is quickly exhibiting signs of those dreaded teen-age years and I know he won’t want to do this forever. And I wouldn’t get to enjoy it when the middle boy begs me to teach him how to knit or to assist him in sewing up a pillow. (Sadly, none of them have caught the writing bug yet.)
The ultimate truth of my situation is this: what this living situation gives me more than makes up for what it takes away. The ones who distract me the most also inspire me the most. They give me things to write about, they give me my voice, they give me my reason for being. I am the luckiest woman in the world, one who gets to pursue and enjoy twin passions.
Thanks for reading, and I’d love to chat in the comments.
The Kitchen's Garden 
28 responses to “That Which Distracts Me Inspires Me – Charlotte”
How lovely to live in a multi-gen household. I think it’s a shame that this has become less common in countries like the UK and USA and isn’t the norm any more. For families who get on well, living close together (but still with some separation and independence) seems to offer so much, a built-in support network.
I totally agree, Grace. This kind of living situation was the norm for so long. And it is important that we all get along well. Some friends are horrified at the thought and others envious. So it all depends. But having that door that locks is key!
Thank you 🙂 What a wonderful description of extended family life. I can’t help thinking that this was the way families were always meant to be – in close proximity, and there for each other.
Thank you! And we love it. So lucky to be part of our grandchildren’s lives.
I adore the title, so very true!
Isn’t it? Such a paradox.
Lovely glimpse into your world Charlotte, thanks for sharing! I have one daughter who suggests at random times that I consider moving in with them. Many reasons it sounds tempting, also a number of others that make me hesitate- one of those being the “locked door” thing. I really value my individual existence and I would not want to start presenting my family based on our different views of boundaries. It’s a lot to consider.
It is a lot to consider, Deb. We were careful to think it through before we committed to it. And sometimes my husband and I look at each other and wonder how we got here. But far more often we say, “What did we do with ourselves before we move in together?”
I think if your daughter and family can recognize that you require independence it will work. For us, it has been amazing.
what a beautiful peek into your world behind the words, Charlotte. it is all priceless, and even while it may feel a bit intrusive at times, well worth it.
Thank you, Beth! We totally agree that it is priceless.
Such a great lifestyle. It must take some juggling and flexibility, but you seem to manage it well. Writers are good at that.
It does indeed take juggling and flexibility, but the result it worth it.
I grew up in a multi generational household. My maternal grandmother lived with us. I was also an only child and had to cope with three strong intelligent adults which I have found as I’ve gotten older gave me a great deal I couldn’t have managed without. My parents deeply appreciated having a “built-in” babysitter, but didn’t take it for granted or abuse the priviledge. My mother’s one sister was always harping about how spoiled I was and she wanted Nana to move in with her and her four children which Nana refused strongly. We had a very peaceful household. It was made clear that if Nana went to her room she was to be left alone, and the same held if I went to my room. We were living in a big, old Victorian for myearl childhood and had to move to a smaller house for several more years and finally to another bigger house. I was blessed to have Nana with us until I was 21. I too write, mostly fiction, but presently have been working on a family history of my late husband’s paternal lines. I’m staying with my granddaughter and her partner and toddler son but find it’s not a gooc or comfortable situation and am hoping to find a way to get a place of my own as soon as possible.
Oh I love hearing about your experience growing up in a similar situation, Aquila. I hope that my grandsons will remember our household as fondly. And I’m sorry your current situation is not working out. Good luck finding a place of your own soon.
Hello Charlotte. Lovely to meet you. I too live in a multigenerational house although now it’s just my daughter and me because her two sons have moved around the world. Nine years ago when my partner died, I moved in to a granny flat on the bottom floor of her house. It was to be short-term while I decided where I wanted to live. The boys at that stage were in their teams, and they kept me well engaged with their tales. I could hear their laughter and happiness, even if I was downstairs. At the beginning, it was made quite clear that if Granma’s door was closed she was writing. Similarly, if I wanted them to do something and their door was closed I backed off.
What started to be a short-term answer to a living problem has lasted , and it has worked well for us. Although I really do miss the boys who are scattered around the world along with their cousins. But I know how lucky I have been to have been part of their lives for such a long time.
“I could hear their laughter and happiness…” That’s just it, isn’t it? I’m so happy your situation worked out so well–and continues to work out. I feel so, so lucky to be here and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Greetings from the hot and wet, too sunny South GA coast. Lots of interesting stories here. I’ve never married or had children, but I like listening to others’ tales, and I love to read everything that captures my interest. I guess Charlotte’s Portland is Portland, Oregon, not Maine and on the West coast of the US. I’ve read a lot about that area, but only visited it briefly, many years ago. I guess the Klamath Dam removal project, hyped on Google of late, is a big deal for Northwesterners like you. Huh? Are salmon really coming back?
Yes, my Portland is Portland, Oregon, in the midst of the wonderful and gorgeous Pacific Northwest. So we are on opposite coasts. The Klamath Dam is quite a distance from here–down south about five or six hours. But Oregon does have quite an eco-conscious state of mind, and we do love our salmon. (If you can ever get your hands on some Copper River salmon out of Alaska, I highly recommend it.) Not sure if it’s fully coming back, but I sure do hope so. Thank you for reading and commenting!
Good to read your blog, and the comments. It’s all picturesque. I love salmon, but I’m not sure where ours comes from. I’ve heard that freezing salmon kills parasites. I don’t know, but would like to know, because I also like sushi.
Not sure about that–and I have to admit I am not a big fan of sushi! But I should probably try it again because I love salmon so much.
I read the print version of Joseph Campbell’s series related to mythology, maybe “The Power of Myth”. He said the Northwest Natives worshiped their food and prayed the salmon they ate could be reborn, to provide more. Campbell so talked about other myths regarding food worship, but I have forgotten them.
This is true and I’m so glad you remembered it! the Northwest Native Americans are fascinating. Across from the beach house we stayed in was a gorgeous huge home and the garden featured multiple totem poles, which are native to the Northwest Indian culture. While we were there, another one was put up. I was fascinated!
Well, I found the book on my shves, while I was eating dinner. As usual it’s al)marked up by me, with notes in the margins. It is “The Power of Myth”, by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers, the written version of the PBS series that name. Moyers, who wrote the introduction for the book, said his relationship with Campbell began eight years prior to Campbell’s death. I haven’t even finished thevintro, but Moyers said Campbell’s fascination with totems began early in life when he saw them at New York’s Museum of Natural History. He became interested in the symbolism of totems, especially of those in your area, and of the Eskimos’ mythology. Anyway, I’ve brought the book back to the guest house I share with my rooster, Speckles, but he doesn’t like it when I keep him up this late. More tomorrow, after I’ve read a little more in the daylight.
Our local art museum–the Portland Art Museum–has quite a collection of Northwest Indian art. I need to make a return visit and see it again–haven’t been there for awhile. The totems are fascinating.
And you share a guest house with a rooster named Speckles! Now that is something I’d like to know more about.
Such fun to read about how your writing and the family dynamics work out so well! In the U.S. it seems that many are moving back to multigenerational families sharing one home, especially with it being so difficult for many young adults to move away from home due to college loans, housing costs, etc. I definitely plan to check out some of your books! Thanks for sharing with the Fellowship of the Farmy!!!
Thank you so much, Dianne (and Jack). The multi-generational trend is definitely driven by economics. Our daughter and family would never have been able to buy into this neighborhood on their own. It’s not fancy and we bought the house for a song decades ago. I’m so happy to be able to share it with them. And thank you for checking out my books! I love the Farmy!
Hello, Charlotte! It’s lovely to meet you here. It’s interesting that so many of us are “morning writers”. I love your stories of living in a multi-generational household. There’s so much value to that yet, our society seems to value independence above everything. With housing being increasingly unaffordable for young people, I often wonder if your living arrangements will become more common again. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, in my opinion.
Hi Michelle! Yes, I love being a morning writer, it’s where my thoughts are most unfiltered. I think these kind of living arrangements are becoming more common as it becomes more expensive to buy homes. And I think that is a wonderful thing!