Thoughts on being two people at once, a mom and a writer

(I’m on vacation … So enjoy this recycled post today!)

OK, so I am a mom. Obviously.

I usually have stains on my shirt. I sweat a lot from picking kids up and down all day, and if I am talking to you in a public place with my children in tow, I am typically looking out of the corner of my eye to ensure that they don’t run away.

I’ve been a mom for over twelve years. It’s one part of my personality that is constant. Whether I am grumpy or happy, chubbier or thinner, motivated or lazy, I’m a mom.

It’s what I know.

Enter stage left a quiet desire that has risen up to become a writer. Not just a “please excuse Evangeline from school on Tuesday because she had a doctor visit” writer, but the other kind. The type who actually spends a good amount of BOC (butt on the chair). A person who actually produces readable work.

I remember distinctly when the dream actually took root in my heart. We were on vacation in Florida and Sergei and I were hanging out late at night in a hot tub (this all sounds very sophisticated and a tad bit romantic, doesn’t it? But honest, we were just talking).

“I think I want to write a book.”

“I mean, I think I want to be a writer.” I looked at my husband sitting in the other corner of a 6′ to 8′ bubbling pot of water.

Here is a crucial part to my story. My husband’s answer.

“You should. Let’s make it happen.” (Awesome husband, right?)

Once we returned home from vacation, Sergei and I set up a schedule that allowed me time to write.

And I did.

Some days I ignored laundry. Some days I ignored my kids.

A funny thing started to happen inside me. I began to feel more like myself. Like Gillian. Sure, I was still Lainie and Zoya and Polly and Evie’s mom, but there was also space in my head to think, to process, to create, to write.

Six years later, even with several magazine articles, and essays under my belt and a book deal for my memoir, I am still trying to balance two people at once, a mom and a writer. And it must be said that hands down, if one were to trump the other, it would be mom.

But, I have to say, my writing has made me a better mom.

My girls see me pursuing my goals. They see that I am happy writing things down. They see that they can have more than one dream in life, and with God’s help, can do things relatively okay most days.

I think that is worth being two people.

Don’t you?