On a blustery weekend afternoon, I am sitting in the living room of Lara Logan’s house in a leafy neighborhood in Washington, D.C., waiting for the CBS reporter to come home from the office. From my perch on a leather sectional sofa, I can see a plastic children’s fort in the garden; hear the creak of the front porch swing; marvel at the length of wooden train track snaking across the floor; peruse a guide to world armies; sip a cup of Nescafé with Coffee-mate. Also anticipating Logan’s arrival are her husband, Joseph Burkett, a work-at-home Congressional liaison, who is doing what all work-at-home dads do, i.e. strategically skirting past areas populated by children; Joseph and Lola, ages 3 and nearly 2, in pj’s and pacifiers, just up from their naps and on the prowl for snacks; and Ruby, the nanny, installed at the kitchen table from which she can attend to everyone’s needs with minimal motion. Logan, a “60 Minutes” correspondent, is now 90 minutes late, but one gets the sense from Burkett’s periodic updates (“she’s just been held up, leaving soon”) that a long office stint on a weekend is not out of the ordinary. When she eventually arrives — in flat boots and skinny fleece, looking freckled, tousled, sporty — she is greeted by the siege on Mommy, an attack of love and neediness all working mothers know too well. “I don’t think about career ambition,” she tells me later. “I don’t think about access. I think about how fast can I get home. That’s it.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/19/t-...t.html?_r=1&hp