It was 8 p.m. and the floor was covered in Legos, dinosuars, and wrapping paper. My son, Lev, just celebrated his birthday, and the living room looked exactly the way you’d expect after a joyful day of new toys and excited hands. My husband was ready to rescue me and sweep him off to bed. Part of me really wanted that. "I’ll clean up. It'll be faster, easier, and most importantly...quieter this way," I thought to myself. But instead, I gently said, “Lev, it’s time to clean up.”

The first time I gardened was during the pandemic. I loved the smell of the soil and the delight of seeing things grow each day. The mint got out of control but the tomatoes, cucumbers, and lettuces were outstanding! I became so ambitious dreaming up my future gardens… but then I got pregnant with my son and since then I haven’t planted a thing.

Last week, I was coaching an engineering leader who kept returning to the concept of tech debt. As he spoke, I realized how closely it mirrors something I see every day in leadership and in life: emotional debt.

This morning, while I was still asleep, my four-year-old plopped himself beside me at 6:15 a.m. I was frustrated—mostly at myself. This, I realized, was on me.

Thank you for the outpouring of care and support after I shared my recent health journey. I feel deeply lucky—not just for the choice I got to make, but for the community holding me through it. On a different note, but one that's related to weathering hard things... the snow.