Reflections of a Working Mom

I just wrote this email to an old friend back home and it's something I've been wanting to blog about anyway, so I'll just copy and paste. Because I have a quasi-cranky little girl needing her mommy. (Also, just by way of update, I still have a job. For now. I don't know when they're going to make decisions.) But on to the email:

I was just thinking today about how I love going to work and wearing a power suit and using words like “preemption” and “specific performance” and actually knowing what I’m talking about, but I also love coming home, putting on my jammies, and babbling and dancing with Eden while she covers me in drool and snot and Bryan tells me all about her poop. It’s a wonderful life I have, and I’m so grateful to be able to have both sides of myself so engaged.

I always wish I could be home more, but it only really bothers me when either work is so slow I do nothing but think about how I’d rather be home, or when work is so busy I don’t see Eden before she goes to bed (thankfully that has only happened once). I do think that Bryan being home with her has been the saving grace of the situation. I call him about ten times a day, and I hear about all the details of their day, and I give my input on what he could do to make it run more smoothly. So I feel like I’m still plugged in. I know it wouldn’t be quite that way if she were in daycare.

Being a lawyer rocks (when there is work to do...). Being a mom rocks even more. I don't think I've ever felt this at home.