Mom, interrupted.

Battling productivity culture as a mom

I heard it before I saw it—a thick, thudding whup-whup from above—and my spine prickled. The Miami-Dade chopper was circling a few blocks south, scanning for someone on the run or, perhaps worse, hiding out in the massive butterfly bush right next to me.

I could have gone inside. I should have. But I was close to finishing. I held my breath, inhaling the…