They say motherhood is a full-time job. But they never tell you it’s unpaid, under-appreciated, and sometimes, invaded.
My name is Rachel, and I’m 33 years old. I used to teach second grade, but I left the classroom to stay home with our two kids: Lena, who’s six and far too observant for her own good, and Micah, who’s three and practically attached to my hip. I loved teaching, but after Micah was born, we decided it made more sense for me to be home. I don’t regret that choice. At least not most days.
My husband, Daniel, is 35. He works in IT, loves spreadsheets, and avoids confrontation like it’s a contagious disease. We’ve been married for almost 10 years, and I’d always thought we made a good team.
But that thought started to unravel the day I got that phone call.