I do the things that people without children are supposed to do. I sleep in every day so that it is no longer sleeping in but me merely rising of my own accord nine hours after I went to sleep in a giant bed next to my husband. He and I travel together—more than thirty countries, on every continent except Antarctica. I regularly make cake at 9:00 p.m., and eat it by 9:30 p.m., knowing that I don’t need to set a good example for anyone. If it sounds as if I were trying to justify my life decisions, of course I am. That’s all anyone is ever doing. Why do you think so many people want me to have
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