Manolos on Monday, Two-Day-Old Pajamas on Tuesday

The other day, I was chatting with a friend about the wild duality of my life lately. It’s something I’ve been reflecting on often because, honestly, it’s as rewarding as it is challenging.

Take Monday, for instance. There I am, standing in front of a room full of advanced practice students, giving a lecture in my Manolos. I’m poised, professional, and completely in my element. Or I’m in clinic, moving quickly and confidently, making important decisions that impact people’s lives. In those moments, I feel grounded in my purpose and the years of training and hard work that brought me here.

Then Tuesday… and the scene couldn’t be more different. At home with my kids, my daughter Luna has decided that mama is the safe place in the world. She’s been extra clingy lately—adorably so—insisting on having at least one hand on me at all times. I’m still in yesterday’s pajamas, the soundtrack of my day is "Wheels on the Bus" on endless repeat, and my to-do list feels like a distant memory.

It’s hard to describe what it feels like to live in these two completely different worlds. On one hand, it’s an absolute blessing. I get to pour my heart into my career and my family, two things I deeply love. On the other hand, balancing them feels like an art form I’m still learning.

I know so many people in postpartum feel the same push and pull. The way I shift gears from being the "put-together professional" to the "mom in survival mode" is jarring. There’s guilt in both spaces: not being as present as I’d like for my kids and wishing I could pour even more of myself into my work.

But here’s what I’ve realized: this duality isn’t a flaw to “fix”. It’s the beauty of a full life. The polished professional in the lecture hall and the pajama-clad mom singing nursery rhymes are both parts of me. They coexist, even if imperfectly, and I’m learning to embrace the flow and acceptance of it all.

If you’re someone who feels stretched between two very different worlds—whether it’s parenting and a career, school and relationships, or anything else—just know you’re not alone. It’s messy, beautiful, and wildly difficult at times, but it’s also a reminder of just how much we’re capable of.

And I’m not sure I know much more than that yet, but for now, I’ll keep showing up, for my kids, for my work, and for myself as best I can. Manolos on Monday, pajamas on Tuesday, and a heart full of gratitude for it all.