My freelance writing work is largely back on track. Some weeks I even produce just as much as before Atticus was born. This puts me smack in the middle of Mommy Wars: Work Edition.
I certainly consider myself a work-from-home mom, although I'm firmly a part-timer. This work-from-home status, I like to joke, allows me the worst of all worlds -- the frustrations of caring for children full-time without the escape and adult conversations that an out-of-the-home job provides.
All joking aside, I'm happy with what I do. I love staying home with Edith and Atticus, and I love the creativity (and let's not forget, cash) that comes with being a freelance writer. Freelancing is, well, very freeing, without the feeling that I'm wasting the four years of college and nine years of full-time writing that came before I was a mom. I've been a writer far longer than a parent.
Last week Edith did something that truly made me feel good about my decisions. As I was doing a bit of freelance work, Edith placed a milk crate upside down, placed her toy cash register on top and, facing me at my desk, began "typing." Working like mommy, she told me. I'm proud.
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