Right now I have two jobs. The first is taking care of my three-year-old son. The second is writing. Both require mothering: the first of my son and the second of my writer self.

Last fall, I volunteered at a writing conference for women and in one of the workshops, a young woman shared with the group that she was a new mom, had very little support, and didn’t think she could be both a writer and a mother. At that, she began to cry. Other women patted her on the back and comforted her. The mother in me was split. I wanted to hug her and tell her it was going to be okay and also scream out, I do it, you make it work. If you’re a writer, you have to write. The other side of that is if you’re a mom, you have to mother and mothering your child becomes your responsibility and easily takes over. This is the reason to mother the writer as well.

For me, it’s about being a whole person, not only a mother and it’s for my wellbeing and also the wellbeing of my child. I love my son. I don’t want to put it on him that I can’t write because of him and I’m not going to give up writing, so I have to make time for both. I have to jot down ideas in my notebook, on the notepad, even on my cellphone, to come back to later. I have to write when my son is asleep. I have to set goals and in the time I have, read, revise, focus, and not float away with the Internet or with other distractions. I lapse sometimes, but I have become a no-nonsense mother to the writer in me. I have to keep practicing my craft, building that side of my dual career, and forging ahead with my goals. I also have to nourish the writer me when I feel lost in my writing world or frustrated with my progress. I remind myself I can be the tortoise rather than the hare and praise myself for doing exactly what I want, both writing and mothering my son. When my writer self talks back to me just like my son, I have patience with it but I set limits. I don’t let the writer in me be harsh with herself, saying this writing thing is just a pipe dream or I’m not good enough or what if people don’t read it. What mother would let her child get away with the self-loathing type of thinking writers put themselves through? I have to keep the writer in me on track and positive.

Both ‘Motherhood’ and ‘Writing’ have been the most difficult things to claim for me as careers. I think there are two reasons for that. First, at this point, neither of them pays. Second, neither of them is truly valued. I have a mom-friend who has a business card with her name on it and she has listed on it as her profession, “Mom to Hudson.” When I first saw it, I laughed. It was great. How funny! But she looked at me and said, “that’s what I do right now, that’s who I am.” Right. Why was it so funny? It might be as funny as my business card with “feminist poet and writer” on it. I must have internalized somewhere that these aren’t real professions because they aren’t paid. I must have internalized that I too shouldn’t value them, but they are the most important pieces to my life and self right now.

I have to value and take care of the writer in me in order to be as healthy as I can for my child. Nourishing my writer self makes my relationship with my son better and makes me a better mom because there is a part of me that is creative, strong, and happy that is separate from the wonderful bond with my son. There are moments when my child screams louder than my writing and he gets more attention, but there are also moments when my writing screams pretty loud too. I have to constantly work to make time for both. There may be a voice inside of all women like that of the woman who said she was worried she couldn’t be a writer now that she was a mother. Mothering our children can encourage creativity within us and push us to find those sacred moments when we can put pen to paper. All writers have obstacles that keep them from writing, but we must find a way to make it work. If I were to tell myself one thing it would be: Mother the writer in you and also mother your child. For me, as a writer, I have to.

Liza Wolff-Francis is a poet and writer living in Austin, Texas. She is currently the co-director of the Austin International Poetry Festival. Her work has most recently appeared in unseenfiction.com, Border Senses, and on the blogs “La Palabra: The Word Is a Woman,” “The Radical Idea,” and “Matrifocal Point.” She also has a poem posted in the Blanton Art Museum by El Anatsui’s sculpture “Seepage.” Every day she eats both popcorn and dark chocolate, and when she can, she loves riding miniature trains with her son.