Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • i am trying to have it all. do it all. be it all.

    i don't want to be the woman that wistfully talks about what she could have, should have, been.

    and so i show up to work every day. my desk is my sanctuary. unlike my clothes, it's clean white surfaces are not stained by pudgy dimpled sticky hands, that minutes ago, were plunged into a ripe avocado. i love my job. an outlet for creativity that i couldn't have dreamed up to be better suited for me.

    but i am also a mother. and my child, with his big blueberry colored eyes and a smile that heals all the broken parts of my heart, also needs me.

    and it's exhausting. i have no down time. even something as simple as a shower and getting dressed becomes a carefully orchestrated dance because every single minute counts.

    i am figuring out the balance. and it's a daily struggle.

    but coming home to this, makes it all worthwhile.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.