Step by Step Parenting

Before I started my 3L year, I decided that I was going to take a break from writing until after the February 2027 bar exam.

Ha. Haha. What was I thinking? I’ve been writing nonstop since I was nine years old. I need to write like I need to breathe.

Now, will I be penning carefully crafted, beautifully worded, lengthy soliloquies? Probably not. But writing is how I process the enormous mental load I shoulder every day, so here we are.

I spent the last week or so writing a reflection on the second half of my second year of law school. You know, the half of the year where I birthed twins, returned to work at five weeks postpartum, pumped while taking my Advanced Torts final, and proceeded to finish out the year as if my body and mind hadn’t just gone through a completely life-altering, and dare I say, mind-bending event? Yeah… that half. But honestly, I didn’t really process the gravity and magnitude of everything that I endured and accomplished until I began to write it all out. Looking at a 2,000+ word article detailing the whole chain of events, I couldn’t help but think, Wait, was that real? Holy $h!t, did I really do all that?

The end of my time in law school is approaching, and it’s approaching fast. 94 days until I graduate, but who’s counting? 94 days until I’m Megan Eldredge, JD.

To be honest, even though I’ve looked forward to December 11th, 2026, for years and years and years, I’m a little sad. Nostalgic, even. Law school has been awful — seriously so awful. I sacrificed what must be thousands of hours with my children while they were small, time I will never, ever get back, all to chase a dream. My relationship is stronger, but only because it was placed in a refiner’s fire. By all accounts, I should be thrilled that the end is so near, and for the most part, I am.

But I will miss law school, too. It’s complicated (maybe it’s Stockholm’s syndrome but we’re going to say “complicated” for now).

In an effort to cling to these last few weeks of school, and to shed light on how on Earth I make law school compatible with my life as a mom of five, I wanted to write out what a typical day-in-the-life looks like.

5:00am – My alarm starts blaring, and I rush to turn it off before it wakes my husband. The twins decided they wanted to party around 2:30am, and my husband, as always, handled the early-morning feed. I know he’s tired, but Tuesdays and Thursdays are my especially long days, so I have to get up. Ginger, our eighteen-month-old puppy, follows me dutifully downstairs.

5:30am – After making lunches for all three kids and getting their water bottles in their backpacks, I go upstairs to wake up my six-year-old daughter. All three of the older kids share a room, so this essentially wakes all of the up, but I tell my two stepkids that they can stay in bed a little longer if they want. My stepdaughter says she wants to shower and do her hair, while my stepson opts to hide under the covers. Mood.

5:45am – We’re at the point in the morning where I just lay out a bunch of food on the table and let the kids help themselves. This morning it’s blueberries, blackberries, and frozen blueberry protein waffles I popped in the toaster. My daughter tells me she doesn’t like blueberries anymore. I point out that Bluey is on the package. She’s a fan again.

I feed the dog, prep a day’s worth of bottles for my husband, load up the car, get dressed, and probably do thirteen other small chores I don’t remember anymore. The three big kids all get dressed, eat, and brush their teeth. The twins have slept through all of this, and although I’m sad that this means I won’t see them until the afternoon, I’m glad they’re letting my husband rest. I give him a hug and kiss goodbye, and my heart feels like it lurches to my throat when he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, I’ll try and be awake tonight. Promise.”

He just smiles, both of us knowing I’ll likely be asleep. He doesn’t get home from work until nearly 11:00pm, and I now have to take medication to sleep thanks to postpartum insomnia. I really should be asleep by time he’s home.

6:15am – My daughter and I are off, heading towards the before-school care that’s run from her school’s cafeteria. My daughter is thrilled, rattling off the names of all her friends she hopes are there. She decides that since it’s still dark outside, our car is a spaceship, and we’re on a journey from Earth (home) to Venus (school). Her imagination makes me feel a little less guilty about having to wake my first-grader up before dawn just so I can get to class on time. At least she’s a good sport.

6:30am – I give my daughter a tight squeeze and remind her that she’s going to after-school care, too. She yells, “OK, I’M GONNA GO HAVE FUN!!” and runs away without hesitation.

Back in my car, I plug in directions and turn on my music. I’m still shuffling Noah Kahan’s new (is it still new?) album on repeat, and I sing along the whole forty-five minute drive to school.

7:45am – I park and walk two blocks to the law school. The plan was to print some cases that were assigned for Advanced Family Law, but I run into a friend in the commons and we end up chatting instead. We are both in disbelief that our law school journey is almost done, and agree that if one more person asks if we have a job lined up yet, we might cry. I have the same conversation with a different friend five minutes later as I’m collecting my cases from the printer.

8:10am – Advanced Family Law begins. Today we’re talking about modifying custody agreements and securing child support, and the teacher is explaining the pros and cons of having a court-ordered custody agreement. After going over some of the cases, I’m extra glad that my ex-husband and I can casually text each other things like, “Hey, can I take Eloisa to Mexico this summer?” or “Eloisa says she misses you, want to come over for dinner?” I try to never take that for granted.

10:00am – Class is over so I head to the library to get some reading done for my 10:45am class. Instead, I run into another friend, and I have a third iteration of the same conversation. We both mutually agree that we’re checked out and overcommitted this semester, and ready to be done.

10:45am – Remedies begins. This is the third class I’ve taken from this same professor over the course of my time in law school, so I knew what I was getting myself into. The professor is nice, but thirty minutes in and it feels like my eyes have glazed over. I try to take notes, and I’m somewhat successful, but I’m also answering emails, working on my schedule, and texting my husband from my laptop.

12:25pm – Class ends, but the professor is still talking.

12:27pm – He’s still talking.

12:28pm – Still talking. I email the professor I have a 12:30pm appointment with to let her know I’m running late.

12:30pm – Class is finally dismissed, and I all but sprint down to the Office of Academic Success. The dean of the law school had wanted to meet with the Assistant Dean for Academic Success, and then him, to go over my plan for studying for the bar. Between a commute, five kids, and a crazy schedule, they want to make sure that I have an organized approach. I start the meeting by flipping my laptop around to show the professor my color-coded, to-the-minute calendar, which is definitely one way to make a first impression. We review some logistics, she advises against working even just ten hours a week while studying for the bar (dang it), and sends me on my way, asking that I check back in mid-November.

12:50pm – I find my friend in the library for lunch, and she has a spicy chicken-and-waffles sandwich from Chick-fil-a waiting for me. That’s true friendship right there. We decompress and chat, going over our crazy schedules and plans for bar prep.

1:30pm – I head back upstairs for my Wills & Trusts class. This class has surprised me, and so far is my favorite class of the semester. I really just went to law school for the tea, and some of the crazy things people put in their wills is insane. Today, we’re discussing a wide range of cases, covering everything from the Chicago Tylenol murders to slayer statutes to a cheating scandal. 

3:20pm – Class ends ten minutes early, so I rush to my car, second energy drink of the day in hand. Without fail, my commute home in the afternoon is always worse than my morning commute, and I find myself clutching the steering wheel the whole forty-five minute drive to my daughter’s school.

4:10pm – My daughter skips over to greet me, elated to tell me about her first day at after-school care. Her excitement once again makes me feel a little better about the fact that I just subjected my daughter to a nearly ten-hour school day. I glance at the clock on my way home and feel another sharp pang of what I can only describe as grief when I realize that my husband has already clocked in at work. My mom picked up his two kids from school and brought them home to hang with them and the twins so my husband could be leaving for work by 3:45pm. He switched his schedule to work from 4:00pm to 11:00pm in order for me to go to school, and I am both eternally grateful for his huge sacrifice and sad we rarely see each other at the same time.

4:30pm – My mom leaves as soon as I get home, and I instantly switch from Law School Megan to Mom Megan. I gather all of the dirty laundry in the house — because with five kids, there’s always enough lying around for at least one load — and start the washer, make six bottles to restock the fridge, run the bottle washer, and go through all of the kids take-home folders. Between third grade, first grade, and kindergarten, there are lots of worksheets and coloring pages and empty snack wrappers in their backpacks. We revisit how to be good stewards of our things and where to put everything when they get home, and they all work on putting away their lunch boxes and refilling their water bottles. 

5:15pm – The crockpot beeps to let me know that the chicken tacos my husband started for us earlier in the day (seriously, bless this man) are done, and all of the kids help prepare for dinner. The five-year-old gets everyone napkins, the six-year-old gets everyone forks, the eight-year-old refills everyones water cups. I can tell the twins are ready for their last nap of the day, so I take them upstairs real quick before returning to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. I remember to feed the dog, too.

5:45pm – The twins, thankfully, fall right asleep, so I take advantage of their nap time to fold laundry, give the five-year-old a bath, clean up dinner, and walk the dog. My husband goes on break while I’m on my walk, so we catch up briefly over text before we wish each other luck with the rest of our nights.

6:25pm – Everyone, including me, is in pajamas. One thing that has made balancing 3L year with five kids easier is that bedtime starts the second I get home, and I don’t feel bad about that. The twins wake up, so I feed them puréed pears — the younger twin actually eats this time, too! — before giving one of them a bath and getting them ready for bed. I help each of the three older kids brush their teeth and do kid mouthwash one by one, if anything so that I can tell them I love them and tuck them in individually, making sure to have a little conversation with each of them. I try to not run around like a chicken with its head cut off most of the time I’m home with them, but usually fail. There’s just so much to do!

7:00pm – The older three kids are all in bed, and I’m feeling unstoppable. Two kids bathed? Laundry and dishes done? Dog walked? Am I Superwoman? The twins must have heard my inner dialogue, because they humble me real quick.

8:00pm – One hour and three bottles later — yes, three — they are finally asleep, and I stumble across the hall to my room. Luckily, I had prepared for this, so my pumpkin apple candle is already lit and my cold, unopened can of Liquid Death is already on my nightstand. I wash my face and climb into bed, ready to write for a bit before turning my attention to my Wills & Trusts reading for Thursday’s class.

9:00pm Oh shoot, it’s been an hour. I spent an hour scrolling Facebook and Substack? I really need to read. It won’t take long. The cases are probably juicy?

9:38pm – Seriously need to read. Or… what if I write a DITL post instead?! Then I can be awake when my husband comes home!!

10:28pm – Post complete. Husband MIA. Sleeping medication in full effect. Reading… not done. But there will be time tomorrow. At least, I sure hope so!

10:33pm – Oh my gosh, a baby’s awake. I would say send help, but I did this to myself.