Caroline Grant is Literary Mama Senior Editor, and co-editor with Elrena Evans of the anthology Mama, PhD: Women Write About Motherhood and Academic Life. She holds a PhD in Comparative Literature from the University of California at Berkeley, where she taught classes on film, women's studies, American literature, and writing; she has also taught at Stanford University and the San Francisco Art Institute. She lives in San Francisco with her husband and two sons, a life she writes about on her blog, Food for Thought. She is currently at work on her second book, Learning to Eat.

With a resume like Grant’s it’s easy to imagine a schedule held together by duct tape, busyness attended to by nannies, and a minivan posing as a taxi. But that’s the wrong movie. Getting Inside Grant’s life is like taking a full breath, one that expands the lungs to their fullest capacity and makes you relax with a satisfied sigh. She clearly gets that creating balance is an inside job, intrinsically linked to her deepest commitment: mothering. In fact her words could stand as a white paper on the art and practice of balance for parents.

Take notes…Caroline Grant is full of gentle prescriptives for the mothering soul: consistently choosing and re-choosing according to values and commitments; setting family priorities and making agreements; letting go of things that no longer connect to purpose; cultivating patience; learning when to say yes and how to say no. Here it is in her own words:

Taking a look at all that you are and all that you do what would you say you’re committed to in life? What do you stand for? Take a stand for?
It all starts and ends with family for me. I've always been interested in family relationships and how they're represented in fiction and film. Once I became a mother, work outside the home seemed impossible (for a while, work at all seemed impossible!). I've been lucky enough to find work that I love, and that I can do from home; I can usually fit it in the gaps when the kids are napping or at school. I try to adapt to their schedules, to fit writing and editing in around them, rather than the other way around. Because honestly, I don't have the imagination of a fiction writer; without my kids, without playing with them and paying attention to them, I'd have nothing to write about. All my projects focus on family, and in particular mothering, in some way, whether it's trying to give mothers in higher education support and advice in their work life (Mama, PhD); to help mother-writers find community (Literary Mama); or to think about the ways in which food and family are interconnected (Food for Thought and the new book project, Learning to Eat).

Are you living your life on purpose?
I like to think so. My husband, Tony (who also works from home) and I reevaluate frequently: Is this schedule working? Is this distribution of chores and responsibilities fair? Are we giving enough time to the kids, to our work? We talk and try to adapt accordingly. So yes, to the extent that we are continually choosing and re-choosing this life--which is focused closely on our kids-- I think it's a purposeful life.

Is anything missing?
Well, I have to say, nothing really big is missing, and I'm tremendously grateful for that! I mean, I wouldn't mind lying around in bed with a book a bit more, but everyone I know feels that way. What's missing at the moment will come as the kids get a little older. Right now, Tony and I are very involved in their schools, but I'd like to expand our community involvement beyond their schools in the coming years.

My first grader set up a lemonade stand to raise money for Obama's campaign this fall, and that got us talking about civic engagement. So whether it's beach clean-ups, or volunteering at food pantries, or more political work, I want to do more of that, and it's important to me that it involve the boys. I want them to think about how our family is connected with others in the larger community, and about ways to help all families thrive.

How do your choices reflect what you value?
Well, I couldn't see a way to make a life for myself and my family in higher education, so I left. Now, I certainly know many families who are making a career in higher education work for them – it's not easy, but they do it. But my job involved a two-hour daily commute. Although it was in many ways my perfect job, the one I had been working toward in graduate school, I realized once my son was born that it was no longer the perfect job for me. My boss would have let me bring him along, but I didn’t really think I could concentrate on teaching with him in the room, and I couldn't impose the long drive on him. It wasn't easy to leave teaching – I still find myself thinking about books and films that would be fun to teach together – but it wasn't the right fit for my family then, and now I've figured out a way to do some meaningful work and be present for my kids. I can't imagine going back.

Despite all that you do, I don't get a sense of life at warp speed, spinning too many plates, and that crazy kind of  soccer-momming thing. Is this true?
That's definitely true. That kind of life tires me out just to think about! Although it looks like I have a lot of different projects going – and I do – their busiest periods have never coincided.

I worked my way gradually up the masthead at Literary Mama, starting as a section editor when my first son was two. I was still doing that – reading submissions, editing, and preparing just a single essay for publication every month – when I needed to do most of the busiest work for Mama, PhD. Then when there was a lull with that (between turning in the final manuscript and beginning copyedits), I started a new book project.

In the midst of starting that second book, I moved up the Literary Mama masthead, but into a position – senior editor -- that I share with Shari MacDonald Strong. I should point out, too, that both my book projects (so far!) are coedited anthologies, so it's very collaborative – I work as much as I can on a piece and then send it off to my coeditor for her input. That lull, when a piece is on my coeditor's desk, gives me time to focus on something else.

Finally, I don't ever finish anything in one sitting; I read an email in the morning, I think about a response, I send it in the afternoon. I've got a fair amount of downtime, while I'm driving to and from my sons' schools or waiting in line some place, when I can at least think about an essay, if not jot some notes down.

Meanwhile, my youngest son still naps, and both boys like to play at home a lot, and play well together, so we're not running around from soccer practice to piano lessons to chess camp every afternoon – we tend to hang out at home a lot, which means I can check email and send off quick responses in intervals when I'm not needed to fix a train track or consult on a LEGO project.

What makes it all possible?
My husband. If he weren't working from home, setting his own schedule, and making time with the kids a priority, I couldn’t do as much writing and editing as I do. He was working at an internet start-up when our first son was born, and for three years he worked from 6 AM – 3 PM so he could be home in the afternoon, and for dinner and bedtime. When I was pregnant with our 2nd he decided to work for himself and be home more with the family – a decision that's been most difficult, I think, for the loss of his work community. It's still much more culturally accepted for a mother to stay home with her kids, and I've got a great network of local moms and writers for support. My husband's work so far has been pretty independent, and it's isolating.

Where are the water leaks in your life balance? What do you want more of? Less of?
Sometimes, usually late on a Sunday night when Tony and I are mapping out the week's schedule, I wish we both worked outside the home and had consistent hours. Every day is different for us—only the boys' school schedules are consistent (and that just since this September; before that my youngest was home full time), and we fit editing, interviews, appointments and other work and chores in around them. We're continually shifting who does what and it can get a little hard for me – I like predictability and regularity! But I know – I really, really know—that we are lucky to have the freedom to make these adjustments. So we sync up our calendars and head into another week, and I won't ever complain.

Looking back at 2008, what are you grateful for?
The publication of my first book. My youngest son starting at our beloved, co-operative preschool. My older son's easy adjustment to grade school. My husband, who makes my life possible.

What are you committed to for 2009?
I'm not planning to make any big changes, but I'd like to spend a little more time on my own writing – I'd like to dig into a big new project I've started thinking about – and a little less time (much as I love it) responding to other people's writing.