But I don't talk about those things because I worry. I worry that if my day doesn't seem hard enough or chaotic enough, I'm not doing it right. I worry that my husband (and maybe the rest of the working world too) thinks I'm getting a free ride on the gravy train.
We're no longer on an even playing field. We haven't been for some time now. The ground seems slanted, the court warped,the turf tainted. Whatever sports analogy you conjure, things are far from even. And the "call" is in the eye of the beaten-down beholder.
For any parent who wishes to stay at home or simply reduce their working hours to spend more time with their children -- whether male or female, and irrespective of socioeconomic status -- a UBI could offer the financial independence that liberal feminism has been seeking for decades
Before kids: You think about spring break for weeks before, dreaming of an idyllic week with a wide-open schedule. Nothing is better than just being home. After kids: You panic when you realize spring break is only four days and have nightmares about being alone with toddlers.
What I hope for you most of all is that by the time you are a mom, we have all moved to a place where moms and dads both have the support they need to make the decision that is best for their families.
It was one of those moments where I just wanted to crawl into bed and emerge 18 years later. Was I really going to survive these early years? Was I strong enough to withstand the madness?
Why do I constantly feel what I've done isn't enough? After 15-hour days, I somehow feel guilty sitting down to rest. Whenever people approach me to offer help, I often wonder if they're thinking, How can she be tired? She's not working.
Having a working mother is a gift. Without her, I wouldn't even know what is possible. I wouldn't work so hard to pursue my dreams. And of course I want to provide the same inspiration and be a role model to my children as well.
Thank you, Mom, for working and showing me that with enough effort, you can accomplish anything.
This virtual village is far and wide -- populated by parents all over the world, with all kinds of circumstances. We have the opportunity like never before to learn and share and adjust and improve... if only we could stop burning it down.
Times have not changed much. Glass ceilings exist in many careers to this day as well as being paid unequal wages for the same work, just because you are a woman. I don't want that for my daughters.
You look forward to filling your tank full of gas because it means you get out of the car and away from the kids for at least five minutes.
Comparing ourselves to anyone else is a sure-fire way to madness. Yet, we do it constantly. The media loooooooves our comparisons. Heck, the entire advertising industry is based on making us dissatisfied.
Our love is translated to our children in these most vulnerable moments. Our words, our expressions, our body language, tell them everything.
I find more meaning and validation by working outside my home, teaching people something I that love, than in making my children breakfast.
Some mornings, it take a great deal of determination to not slip into some heels, run out the front door and beg for my quiet, organized cubicle back. That is why it infuriates me when a working mother says to me: "I could never be a stay-at-home mom."