Hey Mommas! Truth be told, I can’t speak for every Momma out there, but I can speak to my truth. And my truth is this: balancing motherhood and the creative life has been the most challenging task of my life. And do you want to know what I’ve been telling myself lately?
“You can have it, just not all at the same time.”
That quote has been ringing in my ears since I became a Momma. I most recently heard Michelle Obama say it—and whew, it humbled me. In the best way.
It felt like a permission slip. A release. Because let’s be honest: for us multi-hyphenates, it’s in our DNA to try and do it all—at the same damn time. But after giving birth, I learned the hard truth: I just can’t. Not right now. And that’s okay.
I remember watching my husband walk downstairs and prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner for me while I lay in bed recovering. I couldn’t do it. Not the day after pushing out this sweet baby boy. My midwife had told me to follow the 5-5-5 rule—five days in the bed, five days on the bed, five days near the bed. And that’s when it hit me: I had to move at a new speed. I had to pace myself. I wasn’t failing. I was healing. I wasn’t lazy. I was transforming.
I’m a writer, actor, producer, hairstylist, and author. I’m also a wife and a first-time mom. I used to move fast. I could wake up, work out for an hour, make breakfast, do laundry, write for 8 to 10 hours straight, make lunch, grind through deadlines, make dinner, and shoot back-to-back auditions on a normal day. But these days? Writing happens in one-hour chunks—if I’m lucky. Thirty minutes here, fifteen there. A few solid hours after midnight when baby and hubby are finally asleep.
If I need to self-tape, I’m nursing while listening to my lines. Or taping during baby’s naps. For a good while, we had a velcro baby—attached to one of us at all times. My husband would strap him to his chest while reading opposite of me, and I’d later be editing out baby coos and ahhs from the background of my takes.
Doing hair? Same thing. I’ll let my client know, “Hey sis, I’ll need to pump halfway through,” and she might hear my wearable pump humming along while I retighten her Sisterlocks.
In the early postpartum days, I could barely think creatively, let alone be creative. But I’ve slowly found a rhythm. A version of balance that works for me.
“Balance” Used to Give Me Anxiety… Now I Call It Growth
There was a time when the word “balance” made me feel like I was failing.
Something about it sounded like perfection. The perfect day. The perfect routine. A spotless home, a thriving business, a well-fed baby, and glowing skin all at once.
Now I know better. Balance isn’t perfection. It’s emotional maturity. It’s discernment. It’s knowing that you only get 24 hours, and about 7 of them are (hopefully) for sleep.
Sometimes, balance looks like:
- Turning down an audition that doesn’t feel aligned.
- Telling my agent, I’ll pass on an 8-page scene for a stage play in Michigan where the casting call says, “Open to any ethnicity, gender, AND age.”
- Choosing specificity, intentionality, and rest over hustle.
And sometimes, there is no balance at all. It’s just crunch time. I’m running on 4 hours of sleep, juggling two self-tapes, a ghostwriting deadline, and a toddler who just learned to open kitchen drawers.
Balance is fluid. It’s a moving target. And most days, it’s not aesthetic—it’s survival.
What a Multi-Hyphenated Day Looks Like (Two Very Real Examples)
A Creative-Heavy Day
I wake up at 6 a.m.—hair and makeup, rehearse, get into character. I’ve got an audition to tape. Baby’s up. I nurse him, cuddle, change his diaper, and get him dressed in a cute little fit. Then I finally eat breakfast.
We take a walk for some fresh air. He’s in the stroller, people-watching. I look like a wild momma talking to myself, reciting lines out loud on the sidewalk.
He goes down for a nap, so it’s go-time: two self-tapes, four scenes, twelve pages total. I yell “Action!” and—of course—a lawnmower starts roaring outside my window. I wait… and wait… time slipping through my fingers. Then baby cries. Hubby steps in and rocks him back to sleep.
An hour later, I get the first set of scenes taped, edit them, and send them off to my agent. It’s lunchtime. Baby’s up again. I nurse him, we read a book, and play on the floor.
While he plays independently, I finish a draft of pages for a ghostwriting client and sneak in a few social media posts to promote my book.
On a slower day, I’d cook. But today? We’ve Postmated three times.
Baby’s fed, cuddled, and ready for his bedtime routine. We do bathtime, more cuddles, a lullaby… and finally, he’s asleep, peaceful.
Me? I’m running on fumes. Because guess what? I still have two more scenes to shoot. It’s nearly midnight. Hubby’s now helping me tape my second self-tape. I edit. Submit. It’s 2 a.m.
Yep. Cray cray.
A Baby-First Day
My son wakes up with a fever. Not only is he teething, but he has his first cold. He’s clingy, emotional, lethargic, and just wants to cluster feed.
I cancel everything. I play rain sounds from the TV. I hold him all day. I make homemade chicken soup and try to feed him, but he refuses. I snuggle him in the baby wrap until he drifts off, keeping him close to my chest so he feels safe and secure.
I don’t get any writing done. All calls become quick texts. Emails go unanswered. Because I’m his safe place, and nothing matters more to me.
And guess what? The work still got done when he felt better. No wigs were split. All is well in the world.
The Curse (and Blessing) of the To-Do List
Like many multi-hyphenates, I used to run from project to project, barely stopping to celebrate. I self-published my first book and immediately jumped into planning the next one. I wasn’t resting. I wasn’t breathing.
Now? I still dream big, but I accept that everything can’t happen all at once. I’ve been recording the audiobook for Quiet Storms of a Flawda Girl’s Diary for months now. Some days, I knock out a chapter. Other days, a few pages. Some days, I don’t.
One day, I get interrupted by baby’s cries. Another day, the mic randomly stops working and I spend baby’s entire nap window tinkering with it. Another? The lawn guys show up right as I hit “record.” (The lawn guy makes more noise than baby. For real, y’all!)
But you know what matters? The audiobook is still on my list. It’ll get done, eventually. But I’m no longer panicked by it. I’m no longer in a rush to get to the finish line. I’m enjoying the ride.
8 Things That Help Me Balance Motherhood and the Creative Life
Tips for Multi-Hyphenate Mommas Trying to Do It All
- Use voice-to-text. Some of this blog post was written on a walk with my baby, talking into my phone.
- Work in pockets of time. Baby’s nap time is sometimes your studio. Don’t wait for a perfect 8-hour stretch to get things done. A 30-minute writing session is still writing.
- Say “no” when it doesn’t serve you. If it doesn’t pay well or light your fire, it can wait.
- Don’t be afraid to pause a project. If your baby needs you, they come first. Period.
- Your baby isn’t a distraction. They’re your reminder to breathe. To feel. To be present.
- Lean on your village. If you have a partner or support system, let them step in. My husband? MVP.
- Celebrate what you do get done. Even if it’s just one email or 500 words of your novel.
- Balance doesn’t mean perfection. It means prioritizing your peace.
Final Thoughts: This Is What Balance Looks Like (For Me)
Motherhood has taught me how to slow down, how to celebrate, and how to re-prioritize what actually matters.
It’s not about checking every box. It’s about being present for the things that count.
So no, I don’t have it all figured out. Some days I’m a creative machine. Some days I’m just a warm chest to nap on. But every day, I’m showing up as a mother and a storyteller—in whatever way I can.
And that, my friend, is balance.
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