For my maiden post on Moms Who Make Stuff, I wanted to talk about how incompatible a writing career is with parenthood. For that matter, it is also incompatible with any other form of social and/or interpersonal interactions that require a person to be “present” in the real world or immune from the distractions in it (for a post on how I am working to combat distraction by purchasing a piece of super awesome retro electronic equipment, click here).

I have a family who is very understanding of mommy’s need to disconnect and go write. They understand that I require that time to do my work just like anyone else who goes to a regular day job, but that permission is often not enough to conquer the guilt I feel every time I pass up the opportunity to be present in their lives. They grow up so fast, and it is hard to quell the inner-voice that says I am missing it every time I go into that other world. The guilt also comes when I realize that I am using my writing not as a form of outlet, but as an escape from the myriad responsibilities of parenting and running a household. I don’t want my kids to grow up and tell their therapists (and I am sure there will one day be therapists) that their mom spent half their lives answering the voices in her head. Even as I write this blog, I have had to hush my son because he was breaking my concentration, and there comes that pang again.

But doesn’t that guilt come with virtually every form of work we moms do? Whether we are lawyers, store clerks, or artists, I think there is some innate switch in the brain of a woman that shocks our guilt centers every time we catch ourselves not putting our families first. And that is only the first in a long line of guilt-inducing moments in the life of a mother. Whether they fall off their bikes or grow up to become serial killers, moms will always begin a sentence in their minds with these three words: “I should have…” There is also guilt that comes in the form of personal disappointment when I have lapsed on goals when I let myself become too immersed in the demands of the real world, and it is important to not use the family as a scapegoat either. As always, a precarious balance is involved.

So how does one reconcile having a family and pursuing a profession that requires large doses of seclusion? A supportive spouse helps. So does the understanding that you may either have to get up earlier in the morning or stay up later at night in order to nab those extra hours of the day that suddenly become available when your spawn is sleeping. I also remember I am not just doing this for me. I want to become a successful writer not just for the ego boost, but also for the chance to support my family while doing what I love. It’s a common dream most people share, and should I earn that privilege, it is my family who will keep me grounded and sane when things get crazy. At least if I don’t alienate them in a zealous pursuit of fortune and glory.

In the meantime, there is dinner to cook, a house to clean, and a lot of precious moments in the lives of my brood that I refuse to miss, no matter how loudly the voices in my head may be clamoring for attention.