I have seen at least four movies on the big screen since my son and daughter were born on Saturday — including three preview screenings and, on Monday, a restored print of Jean Renoir’s The River (1951) — and tonight, for the first time, I found myself getting bored and thinking, “Gosh, I would really like to be holding Elizabeth or Thomas in my arms and watching them sleep right now, instead of watching this movie.” I won’t say what movie it was — reviews and comments aren’t allowed until opening day, etc., etc. — but I was a little surprised to find myself thinking that.
In the past, I have worried that having kids will impede on my work simply because I’ll be spending too much time looking after them to get any writing done. But who knows, maybe I just won’t want to watch certain movies in the first place when I could be doing much more exciting stuff like changing diapers, etc.
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