I love my job. I mean I really love it.

I can't think of a more fun or exciting place to work. There is always, and I mean always, something going on.

This week I did press releases on a major astronomical discovery and a book publication. Brainstormed taglines for the university's opening year. Wrote a chapter in the style guide (I'm going to write another as soon as I finish this post). Had lunch with a reporter (Thai, YUM) and pitched a story idea about the first student clubs on our campus.

My job is--in short, bad English--WAY fun! My kids are happy, things are peaceful and good. In many ways I think we are ALL better off than we were when I was a mom at home.

It makes me a little sad to think that in a few years when DH is done with his Ph.D. and maybe a postdoc here, I will be giving it up and moving. But I know I will. It's kind of weird that I don't even question that. And I know it's largely because it's his job, not mine, to work to support our family. It's really kind of nice to know that we won't have conflict over that. Otherwise it would be easy for me to start to resent being uprooted to follow him.

But by that time we will probably (I hope) have two more little ones in our family. And it will be wonderful if I can spend some time as a stay-at-home mom for them like I did with Sam and Abe. And maybe next time around I will actually be good at it and enjoy it like I enjoy my non-mommy job.

Here's hoping.