I met up with a group of other mums this morning – we’re all part of the same pregnancy/baby forum and hadn’t (for the most part) met in person as trying to get everyone together at the same time seems to be almost impossible between school, daycare, work, naps etc when it comes to kids.
But anyways, it was lovely. I think about 8 showed up and it was nice to put some faces to names and actually meet in person people I’ve been communicating with for awhile now – a long while in some cases. I must have known one of them for four years!
We were talking about childcare and how difficult it is to get your kids into some places (as in, you have to enrol them pretty much from the time you know you’re pregnant to get them in before they go to school… scary isn’t it?), and how I wasn’t bothering with child care for now.
One of the mums asked me if I worked and my immediate response was ‘No, I don’t. I’m just home with the girls.’
But, this other mum, the one I’ve known for four years cut into the conversation. ‘Yes you do, you’re a writer.’
‘Yeah, I am,’ I said, thinking wow, she hasn’t even met me before (in person), we don’t chat all the time, but she knows that I write and in her mind I’m a writer. ‘But it’s good that I can do that at home, while the kids sleep,’ I added in an attempt not to look like I’d somehow completely forgotten that I DO work.
It hit me then that it’s become widely accepted that this is what I do. That the people in my life now associate writing with me so much that I should be using it as my job description.
I’m not just a writer in my head these days. I’m not a writer behind closed doors. My friends and family, even my acquaintances know I’m a writer and that’s simply awesome.
Now maybe I just need to remember to start tacking it onto my official roles list 😉 and remember to say it next time someone asks me if I work.