It can't be perfect.
I don't know about you, but my writing life can't just be a state of living in constant creative flow. If writing is flourishing, it's because other stuff is falling by the wayside, and vice versa. I've had a few really great writing weeks... but you know what those weeks weren't?
They weren't good house-cleaning weeks.
They weren't good meal-prepping weeks.
They were definitely not good hair weeks.
(Side note: I'm grateful that my husband is gracious about this, and I return this grace to him. I'd rather the grass get too high, but know he's had time in his woodworking shop. Et cetera.)
The list of things that absolutely must happen each day, when I really get down to what matters, is actually very short; here it is:
Connection with my husband
Connection with my children
Yes, I wish I could do it all. Yes, I wish every day could be a good writing day. Yes, I wish I could keep things in line and organized and... well, perfect. But I constantly have to fight perfectionism, close my eyes, ask myself what must happen today and what can wait. Today, it's not writing, it's paperwork. Yay.