How many of us are working full- or nearly full-time with a baby? A toddler? A kid? Where your time is truly not your own. Most hours of the day belong to your employer–getting to work, doing the work, leaving to go home. Then your hours belong to your child first, your partner second…after bedtime it’s all your partner. And somehow you find a few minutes to squeeze in and be yourself.

Not to say it’s all bad. I wish someone had told me years ago how good it feels to open the door to my house and have someone run up to you and be so joyful that YOU are home. You just made their day, only by existing for them. My daughter pats my face, strokes my hair, gives me kisses, rambles nonsense (and, increasingly, strings of words I can decipher). It’s wonderful seeing someone so happy to see me. It really is.

The point of this post–besides being my intro–is that I knew this week that a mistake I had thought small at work was much bigger than I knew. And I was truly scared. Visions of firing, of filling out an unemployment form, of finding another job filled my head. It’s over now–things are ok. But now I realize I have a deeper fear than before. Because now I have a little person to care for, to provide for. Suddenly my job is more important–I have the fear of the job.