I recently took on some additional business for my media consulting firm, which has resulted in more money (edging closer to wage parity at my house, if not, you know, the world or anything), and a significant drop in spare time. Of course, between the three kids, the traveling husband, the house, the writing projects and my body’s annoying need for sleep, there wasn’t a ton of spare time to begin with. And though my professional workload has increased, it didn’t seem possible to decrease, say, the number of children I have. (“Kids, we’re going to have to reduce headcount,” seems so cold. Plus, born in Chicago, the boys unionized early.) So, it’s my writing and workout routines that have mostly taken the hit. Those pursuits feel intensely selfish when put up against supporting the family or spending time with them or cooking them a healthy dinner. Often, I just can’t make myself do it, even though, rationally, everything would probably be fine if we ate a tiny bit more processed food or played one less board game.