Sometimes, the lines between writer and blogger blur. It definitely depends on the blog or blogger. Some bloggers are journalists with paid jobs. Some journalists cringe at the idea of a blogger being held in the same regard as them. I don’t think of myself as a journalist or a food critic. I am uncomfortable with the label mommy blogger. I don’t consider myself a writer although it is the label that I’m most comfortable with (especially when I give my posts the proper time to write, edit, and rewrite) Either way, there are moments when the line is drawn quite clearly in the sand and mom blogger is tattooed across my forehead.

My, more than acquaintance though less than friend, and colleague of sorts, is in fact a real live writer and food journalist with an actual paying job. When Rachel Leah Blumenthal casually posted something about being excited to start working with her new summer interns, I couldn’t help but smile and nod while thinking about all the work that has been piling up this summer. And by work I am referring to unpaid work, that I nevertheless love, on posts that I have the freedom to write as I please but still feel I need to do.

This is where the mommy in blogger comes in. I couldn’t help but reply that I too was looking forward to finally working with my fabulous summer intern team.

..and, by fabulous summer intern team I’m referring to those two kids who are still here in the morning when I’d like to get some work done. They are always asking to be fed and whine when I suggest we all get coffee at Starbucks. They’re hot and cranky and hanging off my hot (the temperature kind just in case you might be confused) body. I have to drive them to all their ‘meetings’ aka summer camps. Camp is a few hours and none of their schedules match up. So I drag them around town with a stack of charged screens and a bag of miscellaneous paper activities just to get a couple meetings in.

All kidding aside, I need my time and they need theirs. Summer has those extra moments in between that I mentioned before. But it only works if you let things go, unclasp your tight grip on each moving part. Parent or not, life is a balancing act and that’s ok.