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I have four sons. I am their full-time mom. For 25 years I have lived my life consciously and sometimes subconsciously making this decision. Every day, until my eyes close shut at night, these boys have ruled my universe.
I come from a generation of lucky women who were seemingly able to have it all, and many of us thought we actually could. Some even appeared to achieve it. A career and motherhood were not only possible, but it was also, in some circles, expected. I am a writer, so writing when the day allowed was always right there for me.
But writing a full sentenceβ¦ha! I had worked long and hard for my three spec scripts and I was getting a great response. I walked into that boardroom, nailed the interview, and was asked about my availability.
What game was I playing, I thought to myself. The validation game? My availability? I was a full-time mom who got up at least twice in the night at that point if I was lucky, had leaky breasts underneath my cashmere exterior, and had the wildest idea that I could add TV writer to my day during nap time. The demands of motherhood are real. So how to have a career in writing while raising my boys escaped me. We lived between London and LA and my way of finding time to write was to combine journaling with blogging.
I wrote about the mundane of our adventures with a little zest, and other mothers thanked me for telling what felt like their stories too. It was weekly at first, until it was monthly, but what I realized was that as present as I was, I enjoyed taking a step back and observing even more. Boys rumble tumble like cubs and only their dad played in those games as well.