Raising children forces adults into a life marked by spit-up stains, poopy diapers, homework assignments, soccer games, ballet recitals, hugs and kisses, circles under the eyes and, for those of us who work, bucketloads of guilt. Most of us eventually come to terms with the physical trials of parenting, such as the reality that from time to time during our tour of duty, we will be vomited on. We become feeding, clothing and carpooling experts. But we never quite know what to do with the guilt.
Recently I met with a group of working mothers who gather each month to talk...
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