A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water. – Eleanor Roosevelt
Every time I go to work, I feel my heart rip out of my chest.
No, not really. But the thundering thump-thump-thump of my girls feet on the stairs, racing to give me a goodbye hug as I head out the door, always makes me feel conflicted.
I love my job. I love how much it connects to what I do at home: at work, I help women become mothers; at home, I try not to lose it with my own children.
Some days are more successful than others. Some days, I’m relieved to head out the door and deal with something else’s issues rather than my own. Other days, I wish I could curl up on the couch and read Biscuit books with my kids.
Some of my stay-at-home-mom friends tell me how they can’t believe I work outside the home. Others wish they had that outlet. Others (genuinely) wonder if I’m doing the right thing by working.
Sometimes I wonder the same thing.
And, other times, often only five minutes after I wonder if I should still be doing this, I’m so glad I do what I do. Read more