I have carpal tunnel in both hands, so I have to wear these wrist cast/splint-like things that go about halfway up my forearm and keep my wrists from bending while I type. They're flesh-colored so they don't look too bad, even though I have had people come up to me and ask what's wrong. I always feel bad when I give them the explanation, like I've let them down or something. A horrifying car crash or something equally as traumatic would sound much more satifying than explaining that I spend too much time on my computer. I sort of lose their sympathy at that point.

So, the other day my son says, "I wish you didn't write books." Well, let me tell you, some serious working mother guilt set in. My son felt neglected! He wanted a normal mother who baked cookies and sang mother goose rhymes while she rocked him to sleep! I was a total failure!

After I regained my breath, I asked him, "Why do you want mommy to stop writing?" I braced myself for the answers, which I figured would have something to do with how unloved he felt. Intead he explained, "Because then you can stop wearing those arm things and you won't scratch me with the velcro straps when you hug me." Yeah!!! Not only did he feel loved, apparently my hugs were so filled with motherly caring they hurt!

I told him I'd try to be more careful in the future, and said a silent word of thanks that, if my son ends up in therapy it won't be because his mother worked. It will be because he's developed some kind of neurotic velcro phobia.