“Baby, what have you done for you this week?” It was such a simple question, but it jarred me. I’d met with contractors, unpacked some more boxes, shuttled my daughter to her soccer and swimming and beach exploration camps, cleaned the house, did the laundry, organized some files, hung photos and got the back patio in working condition. This was all for us, for our family, which I am of course a part of. What did my husband mean what did I do for me? It’s such a common story that I feel ridiculous writing about it; mothers putting themselves last. Whether working ourselves to the bone for our families,…