“I -  am – superwoman. Yes I am…Yes she is…” 

These are lyrics from the song Superwoman, written by Alicia Keys.  Here’s a link if you want to listen: http://www.myspace.com/aliciakeys (Click on her music a little down on the left.)

I love this song and have been known to belt out the lyrics, especially when I’m feeling overwhelmed, it really helps pep me up.  Go ahead and listen, then come back J

As a mother, we often find that the weight of the world is on our shoulders.  We are the nurturers, the caregivers, and in many cases the providers.  As a mama, everyone including yourself, expects you to do it, and do it perfectly.  What is the ‘it’ I’m referring to? 

‘It’ is whatever it is at the moment.  Breakfast, laundry, ironing, shopping, kissing a boo-boo, rushing to the emergency room, paying the bills, mopping the floor, taking the kids to the park, walking the dog, going to the gym, changing a light bulb, helping with a science project, doing a fundraiser, going to a game, birthday cake, giving a hug.  I didn’t even get to the working part yet…

Ironically, we also have the weight of the world on our shoulders with writing—the world we created.  And that weight, however tempting and delicious, is also something we and others expect to come out perfectly.   

I often get overwhelmed, have to take a step back from both worlds and breathe deeply—or grab a glass of wine if it’s after 5 o’clock PM not AM—although there has been the occasional temptation, lol.

I’ve been extremely overwhelmed as of late, just seems like everything piled on all at once, and I’m struggling to get it all done.  I’ve had to write a list and order everything in number of priority.  What is most important?  Family first, career second, then me?  Or is it family first, me, career?  Or me, family then career?  I don’t know, I’ve done them all and I’ll even admit career has taken a priority sometimes too. 

Rubbing my temples, I repeatedly say to myself, “I am superwoman, yes I am.” Then I see the world in a new light.  I can do this.  I am an expert multi-tasker.  With my left hand I check my emails, while stirring dinner with my right.  I balance a toddler on one hip and a laundry basket in the other.  I read a writing trade magazine while walking on the treadmill.  I bake a cake while planning chapter seven in my latest novel.  I give hugs and kisses and read books.   I’ve even been known to ask my family to refer to me as “Superwoman.”  They get a kick out of it, and I certainly feel a little more super.

I tend to internalize a lot.  Admitting my short comings is difficult for me, and giving in to defeat is never an option.   I also have the stressful habit of taking on too much, not knowing how to say: “You know, I’m really sorry but I already have too much on my plate right now.”

Being a superwoman, also means knowing when to give yourself a break.  You gotta sleep some time.  Not to mention read a book or enjoy some other entertaining activity.   Believe me I know.  But sometimes, it really is just impossible.  Sometimes that ‘To Do List’ gets so filled you just have to knock some things off, and there is no time for me or anyone else.  You’ve just got to get ‘er done.  You’re feeling overwhelmed, things are going a little nutty and one deadline in your mama life and another in your writing life loom ahead.  I say, chant the following:

“I – am – superwoman.”  Stretch and repeat as needed.

Won’t you join me in putting on a metaphorical vest with an ‘S’ on your chest every morning?  We are superwomen, and darn proud of it!

I can’t fly or jump on top of buildings, but I can write an ultra sexy scene while baking cupcakes and reassuring a child we’ll go to the park in ten minutes.  What’s your super power?

Today Mama Writers welcomes double debut author Jill Sorenson.  Amid diapers and sleeplessness, she wrote and got published with both Silhouette Romantic Suspense and Dell.  Her first single title romantic suspense, Crash Into Me,  released February 2009, featuring a female undercover agent.

And… here’s Jill!

Dedicated to the one I love…

   Crash Into Me, my debut single-title romance for Bantam Dell, is dedicated to my firstborn daughter.  If not for her, I probably wouldn’t have pursued a career in writing.

   I got pregnant during my last semester of college, while I was earning my teaching credential.  After a difficult time as a student teacher, and a trial by fire in summer school, I was in no hurry to return to the classroom.  That first year, I adored being a stay-at-home mom.  Then, little by little, I began to long for something more.

   I’ve always loved to read, especially romances, and I had secretly fantasized about becoming an author.  I was an expert in lusty daydreams, after all, and I had a degree in English that I wasn’t using.  Why not go for it? 

  One day, I started writing.  And I never stopped.

  Three years later, I had an agent, a publishing contract, and another daughter.  Lots of stuff happened in between, but the important part is this:  my life as an author and my life as a mother are irrevocably linked.  Both are essential pieces of who I am.  And I often do both jobs simultaneously—jotting notes on paper while the kids play in the backyard, grabbing precious moments at the computer while they watch a DVD.

  Without my first daughter, I wouldn’t have started writing.  And, if the second hadn’t come along, I might not have continued!

  But, considering the content of my novels, should these two halves of myself be kept separate?

   At a recent family gathering, one of my husband’s relatives asked me how I was going to hide my books from my daughters.  I told him that I didn’t have anything to hide and walked away, feeling insulted.  I’m proud of who I am.  I write under my real name.  I’m not planning to sit my daughters down and read them my books as bedtime stories, but neither will I hide what I do, as if it’s a shameful secret.

  I know that being open about my job creates some problems.  For example, Crash Into Me features a teen romance subplot—and the teens have sex.  Not fade to black, behind closed doors sex, either.  By writing about teen sexuality in frank terms, have I given all teenagers a green light to indulge in sexual activity?  In the future, will my own daughters consider this work of fiction a stamp of approval for premarital, underage sex?

   Maybe my dedication is inappropriate, as well.  Is it in bad taste to dedicate a steamy romance novel to a child?

   I’m a new author, just getting my bearings in the business, and I don’t have the answers to any of the questions I’ve posed.  Maybe some of you do.  I’d love to hear how other mothers are balancing work and family, when the job is taboo.