Why can't we see the work she does?
When is her work deemed "real"?
The tired mother ponders half-angrily--no, just angrily--after another weekend of tag-team parenting. He works days. She works eves and weekends. She pieces a few other things together.
They both work hard. Still, her work is strangely invisible, and he expects her to be doing MORE. She is frustrated, and discouraged, and indignant.
A reading recommendation for my countless invisible readers, with their own invisibly busy lives: What Mothers Do (Especially When It Looks Like Nothing), by Naomi Stadlen.
Good night, strengthy mother. It's a cold night. Sleep tight.