• Yumna Jawad is the founder of the Feel Good Foodie brand.
• She has 2 million followers on TikTok and says its ban will impact her business.
• She's built her website and other platforms to help diversify her income.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Yumna Jawad, founder of the Feel Good Foodie. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I think about the upcoming ban on TikTok, which could take effect as soon as Sunday if the Supreme Court doesn't intervene, I feel sad. There's a social and cultural aspect of TikTok that I'm going to miss if the app goes away. It's always felt more diverse and interesting to me than other social media.

TikTok disappearing could also be a big deal for my company, Feel Good Foodie. I have over 2 million followers on TikTok and make money from sponsored posts and content creation. The ban will impact my income, but not as much as some other influencers. Luckily, I learned early on in my content creation career that having diverse income streams is critical.

Losing access to my Instagram was an important lesson

I started Feel Good Foodie in 2013 to teach myself how to cook. My Instagram following grew quickly, and I had a lot of fun learning in this public setting. About 18 months in, I had about 300,000 followers, and I was starting to get free products and occasionally be paid by brands.

One day in 2014, I woke up, and my account was deactivated. It happened to other food accounts too, and we never figured out why. But it was really scary. I realized I was building this passion and avenue to make money, and it could all just go away.

Luckily, I got my account back in about 24 hours. But I had learned an important lesson about diversification.

I quit my day job when my influencer earnings took off

At the time, I was making about $80,000 a year as a marketing consultant. About two years into Feel Good Foodie, my revenue from social media surpassed my marketing income. When I hit a six-figure income from Instagram, I quit my marketing work.

In 2016, Instagram changed its algorithm, and I realized fewer people were seeing my posts. That's when I started a website. I wanted to know that my audience could find my content, even if the algorithm didn't show it to them. Creating the website helped me maintain control.

Today Feel Good Foodie is a very substantial business (I'm always hesitant to be more specific about my income — that's part of the culture in my Lebanese family). I have 12 contractors working for me who help produce content, and I'm making more than I ever would be in marketing.

I have about seven different income streams, which keeps the business stable. About 60% of my revenue comes from my website, where I make money from ad revenue. Another 30% comes from sponsored content, most often on Instagram and TikTok. I also make money from my cookbook, and Facebook, YouTube, and Pinterest accounts.

My rates for sponsored content could dip by 25%

Although I've diversified, a TikTok ban will still create a blip in my income. Most of my sponsored content is sold as a package, where I post the same video on Instagram and TikTok. I charge with both platforms in mind.

If TikTok is banned, I won't be able to charge the same amount. I would expect to see a 20-25% reduction in what I make from sponsored content.

Luckily, I have really solid audiences elsewhere. My website averages about 7 million page views a month, which makes it very appealing to advertisers, and I have more than 4 million followers on Instagram. I'll be OK, but other content creators who are more reliant on TikTok may not be.

I'm lucky my skills are transferable to other platforms

Social media platforms come and go, but it's not easy for advertisers to make the switch. It takes a long time for brands to feel comfortable with a new platform. I was on TikTok for about three years before I was paid to post there. It will take advertisers time to accept any new platform users migrate to.

Luckily, I've built skills that are transferable to other platforms. I'm disappointed about the TikTok ban, but optimistic about the health of my company.

• Teens say that TikTok has a culture that other apps can't replace.
• Many of them became emotionally attached to the community during the pandemic.
• Some teens are pushing back on the ban by seeking out other Chinese apps.

Over the past few weeks, Madeira Semins, 18, has spent a lot of time thinking about TikTok — and experiencing a range of emotions about the possibility of the platform going away.

"It's a coping mechanism for many people in my generation," Semins, who attends college in Ohio, told Business Insider. "It seems dramatic to say that I feel uncertain about what my life will look like without TikTok in it, but it really has been such a quiet influence that I didn't even realize was happening until I started to think about what I'd do without it."

Last week, the Supreme Court heard testimony on a law that requires TikTok's parent company, ByteDance, to sell its US operations by January 19 or face a ban. Unless the Supreme Court intervenes, ByteDance plans to end US access to TikTok on that date.

While some teens say they'll simply move to other social media outlets, others are frustrated by what they see as a lack of understanding about TikTok's role in their communities, as well as overreach by the federal government.

A generation uses it to interact with the world

Like many teens, Semins and her 16-year-old sister started turning to TikTok during the pandemic when they were isolated at home. The app kept them "sane and in touch with the world," she said.

Since then, the app has become an easy way for her to connect with her peers both online and in person, serving as a source of memes and trends that it seems everyone knows.

"Losing TikTok seems like it has immense potential to drastically change the ways my generation interacts with the world and each other," Semins said.

Not just a way to pass time

Elizabeth Conley, a 19-year-old from Indiana, uses TikTok for her work with BridgeUSA, a multi-partisan student movement that promotes diverse voices in politics.

"TikTok isn't just a way to pass the time; it's been a huge tool for engaging with people on campus and raising awareness about important issues," she said. "Losing that platform would mean rethinking our outreach strategy entirely."

Conley also uses TikTok for humor and quick connection with peers by laughing over memes or popular trends. But she says the platform also helps her "discover new ideas and creative content that sparks conversations with people I care about."

Some teens are turning to RedNote in protest

Rayyan Ahmed, 19, says he uses TikTok as a "low-effort way to keep constant communication" with friends. Now, he sees his peers taking a critical look at the idea of the government banning an app.

"There's a popular sentiment about the app that the government should focus on stronger data privacy laws instead of banning one certain app," said Ahmed, who lives in New Jersey.

Some teens he knows are moving to another Chinese app, RedNote, in "defiance of the ban," Ahmed said, adding that he believes teens are moving there because the app is Chinese.

Given that, Conley wonders if the TikTok ban will have the desired impact.

"I'm not sure a ban would fully achieve its goals because people might just find other ways to access TikTok or turn to different platforms without really addressing the underlying issues," like concerns about security and the influence of social media on youth, she said.

Ahmed himself hasn't transitioned to RedNote, and said he'll likely just spend more time on Instagram Reels. Many of Semins' friends also plan to switch back to Instagram Reels, but that app has a different feel for her. Whereas TikTok was purely for her friends and peers, former teachers and adult friends of her family follow her on Instagram.

"I can't imagine myself posting TikTok-inspired reels to the same audience," she said. "Part of what makes TikTok so successful, in my opinion, is that it has always been a more casual space, and I'm not confident in Instagram's ability to integrate that playfulness successfully."

The ban could isolate disconnected teens

Jackson Jordan, 15, told Business Insider that there's no other social media platform that matches the opportunities to connect with peers that TikTok has given him.

Jordan's mom, Titania, is Bark Technologies' chief parent officer and founder of Parenting in a Tech World. She's talked with him extensively about misinformation, addictive algorithms, bullying, digital footprints, and other online dangers, but she's also allowed him to be "very active" on TikTok, she said.

Although Jordan is clear-eyed about the dangers of TikTok, he and his mother both also see the app's potential, from allowing content creators to build careers to creating connections for teens. Losing that concerns Jordan.

"This ban would further isolate an already disconnected generation of internet users, including myself," he said.

Jordan doesn't think the government should have the right to do that.

"I feel upset," he said. "It is an unfair violation of our right to free speech. Banning TikTok isn't a matter of national security; it is outright government censorship."

Some teens are ambivalent about the ban

Not all the teens that Business Insider spoke to are as concerned about the potential ban. Aidan O'Donnell, 18, has already started migrating from TikTok to Instagram Reels.

"I honestly don't care now" about TikTok's future, O'Donnell said.

Semins and her friends hope they'll spend more time offline if TikTok goes away.

With the app on all of her friends' phones, she often finds herself scrolling side-by-side as her friends do the same.

"In those moments, I often wish we were talking instead or doing something more collaborative and interactive," she said. "The app is just so addictive, and the algorithm is so personalized that it can feel almost impossible to just stop."

• Richard Lambert is a résumé writer who gets most of his work on Fiverr.
• He charges about $85 for a basic résumé and has made over $1 million yearly since 2020.
• His home and vacation property are paid off, but he works every day.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Richard Lambert, owner of Lambert Resume. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in a middle-class family in a small town. When my mom opened a savings account for me at a local bank, I loved watching my savings go up in my passbook.

I started asking very practical questions, like how much a front door cost. I was shocked by how expensive things were compared to what was in my savings account. That gave me a sense, even as a kid, that I needed to buckle down and keep my nose to the grindstone.

My dad didn't teach me much about finances, but he always taught me to just show up for work. I've certainly done that. I haven't had a day off since 2016.

I started writing résumés on the website Fiverr back in 2014, charging about $45 each. Today I charge about $85 for a basic résumé and more for other services like cover letters. As I did more work, the algorithm rewarded me, especially after I acquired more than 25,000 five-star reviews. In 2022, I grossed $1.1 million by writing résumés. Now, as I approach 40, I'm a multimillionaire with two mortgages paid off.

I paid off my home, although I could have made more investing

Even before I started having seven-figure years, Fiverr was impacting my life. By 2020, I was a millionaire. Although I hate to say it, the pandemic was really good for my business. My net worth has just increased since then, but I still think of myself as a baby millionaire.

In 2017, my wife and I were in a near-fatal motorcycle accident. I worried about what would happen to my wife and daughter — who is now 6 — if I died. Although my wife also works, I feel a strong urge to provide financially for my family. So much falls on mothers when it comes to caregiving, so as a dad, I think, "If I'm not providing financially, what am I doing?"

After the accident, my wife and I decided to pay off our home. At the time, mortgage rates were low, and I could have likely made more money investing in the market. One of my wealthy friends kept reminding me about that. But I liked the peace of mind from knowing that if anything happened to me, or this income stream suddenly disappeared, my wife and daughter wouldn't have to move.

I made a deal with the devil

Work-life balance just doesn't exist for me. I made a deal with the devil: I have a wonderful income, but I have to work every day. I haven't had a day off since 2016, including when I was in the intensive care unit after that motorcycle accident. That's the nature of this business. You need to be responsive to customers.

At the same time, I have some flexibility. I don't have set hours, so I can pick my daughter up from school. I'm at every game or school performance she has. But I'm constantly working outside those times.

I'm willing to spend on my family

I'm conservative with how I spend my money. A huge chunk goes into retirement accounts. I bought two rental properties but sold them (for a small profit) after the motorcycle accident. I found that being a landlord wasn't really passive income.

I drive a 20-year-old Lexus. I bought it because I like its vintage appeal and because it gives me a little dose of fun.

I'm willing to spend money on some things, mostly on my family. My wife drives a new Volvo XC-90, and I like knowing she and our daughter are safe in that. Last summer, we bought a small lake house in my hometown. We briefly had a mortgage, but we paid it off within three months.

I'm not flashy, but I value real connection with my small circle of friends and family. I love summers at the lake with my daughter, tubing, boating, and spending time together. We have a Jet Ski coming for next summer. Summer at the lake wasn't something I was afforded as a kid, and I'm glad I can give it to her. Already, the memories we've made there are invaluable.

• Dr. Joel Warsh is a pediatrician based in Studio City.
• He's also dad to two boys, a 5-year-old and 10-month-old.
• His family had to evacuate their house early Wednesday morning.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dr. Joel Warsh, a pediatrician with Integrative Pediatrics and Medicine in Los Angeles. It has been edited for length and clarity.

On Tuesday night, my wife and I put our sons to bed and then went to bed early ourselves, around 8 p.m. We knew we weren't likely to get a lot of sleep. Outside the back of our home, we could see the Palisades fire getting closer and closer.

It definitely wasn't the best sleep, but I managed to get some shut-eye. Then, at about 4:30 Wednesday morning, we got an alert that we needed to evacuate.

Our bags were already packed when we got the alert

We had already packed essentials like clothing, a few of the boys' favorite toys, and my wife's breast pump, plus our important documents like birth certificates. We grabbed the bags and our sons, who are 10 months and 5 years old, and drove to my in-laws' house in Studio City, near where I practice pediatrics.

My older son was excited to have a day with his grandparents. We talked with him a bit about the fires and he could see the smoke, but he didn't really understand what was going on.

By Friday the evacuation order for our home was lifted, but the fire still wasn't contained. I briefly returned home and saw that we only had slight wind damage. Inside, however, the air was hazy, like it gets when you're cooking something and burn it.

Even at my in-laws' house, the air quality wasn't great, so my family decided to head south toward San Diego for the weekend. We spent about $1,000 renting an Airbnb that could fit the extended family for two nights. Prices were actually cheaper than I thought they'd be, probably because people canceled trips to California.

I'm more worried about the emotional impact on kids than the physical

Earlier this week, I sent an email to all my patients. I reminded them to take their kids to the hospital if they have any acute trouble breathing. But if anything, I'm more worried about the mental and emotional impact of these fires on kids than the physical impact.

It's best if parents can help kids keep their routine as much as possible. We know from other disasters that when kids feel supported and know their parents are there for them, they fare better.

We'll do what we can to help and will remind our son he's safe

With my own son, I'm focusing on the helpers. Next week, we'll donate toys and other items to families who lost everything. Those families have much more acute stress to cope with than we do. How much to share about what's happening with children depends on the family and the individual child. While parents shouldn't hide things from kids, you don't want to tell them too much that it'll cause them stress, either.

Remind kids that they and their loved ones are safe. The rest you can figure out along the way, even if it needs to be done day by day. Helping children feel calm and supported rather than worried will help their long-term mental health.

• Shayla Smith is the COO of a Hollywood law firm, where curt corporate speak is normal.
• She realized she needed to take a more nuanced approach to communication at home.
• Her experience in retail helped her refine her communication techniques, she says.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Shayla Smith, Chief Operating Officer of Lichter Grossman Nichols Feldman Rogal Shikora & Clark, Inc. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I've always had a firm but fair communication style. I don't tone myself down: I am who I am because everyone else is taken. That's served me well professionally. While I started my career in retail at Target, I quickly stepped into C-suite operational roles, first in wealth management and later in law firms.

At work, I'm goal-oriented. Whether I'm recruiting new talent, helping a customer have the best experience possible, or working with one of the many managing partners at my firm, I operate with confidence and command. That's helped me get far in my career.

And yet, recently, I realized it was holding me back at home. It took a comment from my husband to help me realize that I needed to establish a clear separation between the role of a leader in the workplace and a leader at home. I was accustomed to providing directives all day at work, so I found it natural to adopt the same approach at home. Unfortunately, that often struck my husband and sons, who are 9 and 7, the wrong way.

Now, I focus on delivery, not just content

Professionally, I'm focused on the outcome. I can be curt, and I say something once and expect the team to act on it. After my husband pointed out that I was using corporate speak and delivery with him, I adjusted my communication at home. I started considering not only what I wanted to convey but how I wanted to convey it.

I stay true to myself but tone it down

I'm always going to have a strong communication style. Luckily, my husband is super even-keeled and well-balanced. I've started to think about toning down my sharp communication. I imagine it like a light switch: at work, I can let my bulb shine with full power, but at home, on relaxed evenings, sometimes it's nice to hit that dimmer switch and lower the intensity just a bit.

I'm intentional with my words

My husband is a first responder with a hectic overnight schedule, while I have an equally busy schedule in the corporate world. Sometimes, our communication has to be clipped and to the point because we're so busy.

Even at those times, I'm careful with the words that I use. Saying "I would like it if…" or "It would be nice if…" helps my husband know I come from a place of care and understanding, even when I'm being direct. In turn, that helps him better receive what I need to say, so we both win.

We create a relaxing environment at home

Since we both have such demanding jobs, we intentionally create a calm, relaxing environment at home that's markedly different from the chaos of the world outside. Physically, we create a very different environment, working together to pick soothing wall colors and decor. We might talk about work in the car, but we try not to discuss it at home because we want to protect our space.

There are some corporate communication lessons I want the boys to know

While I've changed my communication style with my family, there are aspects of corporate communication I want my sons to know. I'm always reminding them to speak loudly and clearly, looking the person they're speaking with in the eye and speaking with conviction. They know I'll only say things once, and I expect them to pay attention.

Ultimately, I hope they understand that people might not remember what you said, but they'll remember how you made them feel. I learned that working Black Fridays at Target when I was juggling angry guests, overwhelmed workers, and lots of small crises. Although a Hollywood law firm might seem different from that, customer service and great communication are critical across the board — whether with family, colleagues, or clients.

• Sherri Carpineto is senior director of strategy and operations Ascom Americas.
• A few years ago, she was headhunted for a VP role but only offered 10 days off.
• She said she always negotiates time off, because flexibility is critical.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sherri Carpineto, senior director of strategy and operations Ascom Americas. It has been edited for length and clarity.

A few years ago, I received an email from a recruiter out of the blue. I wasn't looking for a new job — I had been with my company for over a decade — but I was head-hunted for this position.

The role was for vice-president of operations for a publicly traded company. It would have been a big step in my career, and the salary increase was significant. It involved working with older people, so there was a chance to make a real-world impact.

It seemed like a great opportunity until I learned that the job was only offered 10 days of paid time off, including all sick and vacation time. When I talked with the CEO about it, she said, "I wish we had better work-life balance, but we don't." That's when I knew I had to turn down the job.

As a mom of 2, flexibility is key

Being a mom of two has certainly impacted my career in corporate America. I took a job that offered remote work long before that became the norm. I stayed there for 15 years because the flexibility was critical for my family.

When my oldest son was 3, he was diagnosed with Celiac disease. At 6, he was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. Because of my remote work and flexible schedule, I could run down to the school when he was sick and go on field trips to make sure he was taken care of medically.

Staying with the same company for 15 years no doubt impeded my career, but the positive impact on my family was well worth that compromise. Today, my sons are 12 and 15. They still need me but in different ways. Most recently, I utilized time off and remote work when a teacher strike kept them home for three weeks.

I don't usually take all my PTO, but like knowing I have it

When I was offered the vice-president role, I refused, on principle, to take it. But in reality, I've never been someone who uses all their time off. In the job I was in for 15 years, I was often the person calling into meetings, even on days off, or taking on more projects, even when they were outside my scope of work.

I was laid off from that company after 15 years, during the pandemic. That changed my philosophy. I had thought that I could make myself indispensable by going above and beyond, but at the end of the day, layoffs are a money decision.

As I interviewed for new roles I knew that time off and remote work were priorities for me. Although I don't always take my allotted time off, I like knowing it's there if I need it.

As a manager, I encourage people to take time off

As a manager, I've always encouraged my employees to take time off. The least productive employee is one that is burned out. We're all salaried adults, and as long as the work is getting done, I encourage people to take their time and disconnect from work.

When I was offered the VP role, I tried to negotiate. I wanted at least four weeks of time off annually. The company refused to negotiate, but I've had better luck asking for more time off in other roles. Time to focus on family while also having a meaningful career is non-negotiable for me, and I'll always take a stand for it.

• An analysis of the top 500 billionaires across the globe revealed the most popular names.
• John and David are the most common billionaire names, while Marks have the most wealth.
• Wang and Zhang also made a top-ten list that's otherwise Western male names.

There's a lot to consider if you want to name your baby for a successful future. But when it comes to the top names of billionaires, it turns out tradition reigns.

"Western names still dominated the top spots, which might reflect historical economic advantages rather than any real connection between these names and success," said Julian Goldie, who conducted an analysis to find the most popular names among Bloomberg's top 500 billionaires

John and David top the list, while billionaires named Mark are the most wealthy, on average. Most of the top-10 billionaire names are traditional western male names, but the Chinese names Wang and Zhang also made the list.

"The real story here isn't just about names—it's about how wealth creation has evolved," said Goldie. "Today's billionaires come from diverse backgrounds and industries, from tech innovators to traditional business leaders."

The top 10 names for billionaires

According to Goldie, the most popular names for billionaires, in descending order are:

• John
• David
• Thomas
• Michael
• Wang
• Mark
• Charles
• Zhang
• Richard
• Jim

Of those, billionaires named Mark had the greatest wealth, with an average net worth of $41.2 billion. That's influenced by Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg, whose wealth recently topped $200 billion, making him the world's second-richest person.

The world's richest person, Elon Musk (worth a reported $340 billion), didn't make the list since his name is relatively uncommon. However, his name is creeping up in popularity, appearing on the top 1,000 most popular baby names in America in 2018 and 2021.

Billionaire names for baby girls

At least one group was missing from the list of most popular billionaire baby names.

"I was really struck by the stark gender disparity reflected in the names, with traditionally male names sweeping all the top spots," Goldie said.

While the women didn't stack up in pure popularity, there are billionaire names for baby girls too, according to the Bloomberg list of the world's richest 500 people. These include:

• Alice. Alice Walton, heir to the Walmart fortune, is the world's richest woman, worth a reported $106 billion.
• Julia. Julia Flesher Koch, who inherited a large stake in Koch Industries, is worth a reported $76 billion, and is the world's second richest woman.
• Francoise. Francoise Bettencourt Meyers, granddaughter of the founder of L'Oreal, is worth a reported $72 billion according to Bloomberg, though many other sources list her as the richest woman in the world.
• Jacqueline. Jacqueline Badger Mars, heiress to the Mars candy fortune, is worth a reported $44 billion.
• Abigail. Abigail Johnson, CEO of Fidelity Investments, has a worth of $42 billion.
• MacKenzie. MacKenzie Scott, former wife of Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, is worth $38 billion.
• Miriam. Miriam Adelson made her $36 billion fortune in casinos.

Of course, there are newer girl's names on the billionaire baby list too. Taylor Swift became a billionaire this year, and more recently Selena Gomez did too. Rihanna is also a younger billionaire with roots in pop music.

More than a name

Of course, a person's success is about much more than a name.

"The real determinants of success are factors like opportunity, innovation, and good old-fashioned hard work," Goldie said. "The name on your birth certificate matters far less than access to education, resources, and having the drive to succeed."

• Emily San José met and married a Spanish man after college.
• They had two children in the U.S., but moved back to Spain soon after.
• She says life is slower and more flexible in Spain, with lots of involvement from family.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Emily San José, co-founder of Mother Euro, a community for moms moving abroad. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After college I moved abroad to find myself. Working as an au pair in Spain, I was exposed to family life and fell in love with the culture and how it integrated children into everything. I also fell in love with the Spanish man who would become my husband.

We dated for a few years, then got married in the US and lived in Portland, Oregon for five years. We were always open to moving back to Spain, especially since my stepson was there. When I had my own biological kids, I found myself yearning for Spain. I felt in my heart that's where I wanted to be a mother.

The biggest difference is how involved the extended family is

We moved back to Spain when my daughter was just 4 months old. Today, she is 3 and my son is 7, while my stepson is 16. We live just outside Madrid.

One of the biggest differences between the US and Spain is the amount of family involvement in the kids' lives. I'm very close with my brother and parents — I even flew home for my brother's birthday last year. But we're a small unit.

In Spain, my in-laws are just a de-facto part of everyday life. Each Sunday we go to my mother-in-laws for lunch. It's not formal or fancy, but it's a chance to spend hours together each week. It's a standing date, and we make it a priority. It's also normal for the kids' aunts and uncles to pop in on a school night just to say hi. My mother is very involved with her grandkids, but there's just another level of extended family integration in Spanish culture.

My kids go to school from 9 till 5, and stay out late on weekends

My days in Spain are a lot longer than they were in the US. That's not necessarily a bad thing because everything unfolds at a slower pace. The kids go to school from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. If they have soccer or ballet, they stay till 6. That means that on a typical night we eat dinner at 8:30 and the kids are asleep at 9:30.

Kids are welcome everywhere in Spain, even museums and restaurants. There are few spaces that are designed just for kids, because it's expected that they'll just tag along where their parents go. It's normal for the kids to come out to a 10 p.m. weekend dinner, and stay out past midnight.

This alleviates a lot of pressure from me as a mom. I can spend time with my kids, while also fulfilling my human need for social connection. It also impacts the children. Last year my son asked to go to Paris to see Monet paintings for his birthday, something I never would have done at 6.

Parts of me are still very American

Most Spanish people take an hour and a half for lunch. I use that time to go to the gym, grocery shop, or make content for my social media. The urge to be productive is very American; my Spanish friends use that time to relax and sit down for a leisurely meal, followed by coffee.

Sometimes the flexibility in Spain is challenging. I like having a plan, but outings and social events here are usually planned impulsively.

In Spain, there's a huge emphasis on simplicity. Kids here don't have a lot of toys or clutter in their bedroom (though, we could be better about that in my house). A typical birthday party for my kids' friends involves chips, soda, and a simple store-bought cake. There's no planned activities, just kids running around then singing "Happy Birthday." I can see that I've tended to go overboard my comparison.

It's hard to avoid consumerism in the US, and I'm glad my kids are growing up in a culture that emphasizes simplicity. But I want them to know my culture, too. I loved high school and college in the US.

We've not closed the door on moving back one day, so maybe they'll experience that.

• Early Walker is the founder of W&W Towing.
• He grew it into a highly profitable business that was acquired earlier this year.
• A friend has helped him learn about money management and avoiding flashiness.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Early Walker, senior vice president of government affairs at Vehicle Management Solutions. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I've been working since I was old enough to swing a hammer. My dad was an electrician and preacher, and I worked afternoons with him since grade school. When I was 9 I started my own business, mowing yards and shoveling near my family's home on the West Side of Chicago.

Despite that, I didn't think I wanted to work for myself as an adult. Instead, I took jobs in sales, and later in government, but nothing seemed to work out. My family had shown me the value of being self-employed, and I couldn't unsee it. I didn't like knowing there was a cap on my income in a traditional job, or that someone else was profiting off my work.

I realized there was big money in government contracts

Even when I was working a traditional job I was dabbling in entrepreneurship. Around the time I was 30 — 10 years ago — I was part owner of a car dealership. I got tired of paying other people to tow our vehicles, so I bought a cheap $8,000 tow truck. It was from the early 1980s and had no AC or heat, but soon other people were calling me for tows.

I wanted to quit my day job, but I had to find a reason for people to hire me and my raggedy old truck. So, I started advertising a $40 local tow. That undercut all my competition, and I was still making a profit. My schedule filled up.

I realized the real money was in municipal towing contracts. There weren't really any Black people holding those contracts, so I saw an opportunity. I started meeting with mayors, especially Black mayors, to learn about what I would need to get those lucrative contracts.

Turns out I needed a much newer truck, more tow vehicles and drivers, and a large tow lot to store vehicles. I was determined to make it work, so I took out a 20-year lease on a lot, and formally started W&W Towing.

Within 3 years, my company was turning over $1 million

Launching and scaling the business was difficult because my credit was terrible. Back in high school, my strict dad didn't let me have a cell phone. So, I'd taken out a cell phone contract that I couldn't afford, and never paid the bill.

That ruined my credit and years later it was keeping me from being approved for vehicle and business loans. As I built the business I was also rebuilding my credit. No one had ever taught me the importance of credit, but now I understood it first hand.

That hard work paid off. Within three years of launching W&W Towing, the business was bringing in over $1 million a year. This year, the company was acquired, which meant a substantial payment for me. I don't like to talk about my exact net worth, but if I didn't want to work again, I wouldn't have to. I've been a millionaire for a couple years at this point.

My friend isn't afraid to teach me

As I've built wealth, I've learned that money is a tool. You have to make it work for you. I was never taught that, but it's a lesson I want to teach my five kids, who range in age from 2 to 16.

Like any tool, you need to be taught how to use money. At first I didn't realize the importance of having an accountant, a business bank account, and insurance. Later, I learned about high yield savings accounts and investments.

I have a close friend who is a multi-millionaire. He teaches me things I don't even know to ask about. Once he saw me paying for gas with my debit card, which led to a whole lesson about credit card points.

I've learned that when you can play with money, you benefit. If I want to splurge on something, I try to find an asset that can cover that expense. For example, investing in real estate gave me a new income stream that pays for travel, including a recent trip to Kenya for my 40th birthday.

Another passion of mine is philanthropy. Having money lets me support the same Chicago neighborhood that helped me get here.

I've learned money isn't loud, so I live humbly

I think it's easy to obtain money, but hard to keep it. A lot of people want to keep up with the Joneses, and I get the temptation. I'm selling my house right now, and my first instinct was to upgrade to something bigger. But then I realized that I could use the profits, along with some savings, to buy a more modest house with cash. Living without a mortgage is the better choice by far, and will improve my finances in the long run.

My rich friend always tells me "money isn't loud." The people who have the most don't wear or drive their wealth. They let their portfolio speak for itself.

• Paul Ollinger was Facebook's vice president of sales before he left the company.
• He grew up middle class with a scarcity mindset, he said.
• Today, he wants to teach his own kids about priorities and gratitude.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Paul Ollinger, author of "Reasonably Happy: The Skeptics Guide to Achievable Contentment." It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up one of six kids in Atlanta. When I was around 11, my dad was taking me to get my first cavity filled. I was super nervous, but my dad, it turns out, was thinking about money. As we walked in, he said, "Don't get the novocaine. It's $20."

That anecdote sums up everything about finances in my childhood home. My father worked for the power company, so he always had a job, but he was never rich. I had everything I needed, but scarcity was the subtext of our economic reality.

That's very different from how my own kids, who are 13 and 15, are being raised. I was one of the first 250 employees at Facebook. I left the company about 13 years ago, but due to good pay and stock options, I'll likely never need to work again as long as I make smart choices.

My son asked if we were hiring a private chef

That means my kids are growing up in a very different financial reality. When my son was 7, he came home from one of his even richer friend's house. He said, "When are we going to hire a chef?"

The reaction in my head is one I can't repeat here. I wanted to yell, "A chef? The only chef I grew up with was Chef Boyardee!" But I realized my son only knew what he sees.

I joked about sending my kids to middle-class camp at Grandpa's, where they had to face horrors like having a fan instead of air conditioning. I approach the difference between my upbringing and theirs with humor, but the truth is no one imagines raising kids in an economic situation that's so vastly different from how they were raised.

I want my kids to learn to prioritize financial decisions

One book that's helped me greatly is "The Opposite of Spoiled" by Ron Lieber. He talks about the importance of giving kids allowance, because that allows them to make mistakes with small amounts of money.

My wife and I give the kids a modest monthly allowance. That means we don't have to talk with them about money every day, and they weigh up whether they really want something, like a new soccer ball.

It's important to me that the kids know that money isn't in endless supply. If they buy X, they might not have enough money to buy Y. Although I have substantial wealth, I still prioritize my financial decisions.

For example, I could fly private, but that would require me to work in a traditional job to have more income coming in. Yet, it's more important to me to be able to do the type of work I enjoy, comedy, which happens to pay less. I value professional flexibility more than the status of flying private or the joys of getting to skip TSA, so I prioritize that.

Financial security has let me chase my dream

I've loved comedy since I first got onstage at Dartmouth College during grad school. My parents paid for college, but I had $80,000 in student loans for graduate school back in 1997. That financial reality meant that I had to take a traditional job in the tech world rather than chase my dream of being a comedian.

After working in tech for a few years and paying off my student loans, I quit to pursue comedy full time for two years. My standard of living was still good because I had a lot saved. But when I met my wife and knew we wanted kids, I returned to the tech world because I wanted more financial security than life as a standup comedian could give me.

Working at Facebook ended up being a bigger home run than I could have ever imagined. I remember saying to my wife, "This might be as big as MySpace one day." I couldn't even imagine how big Facebook would become or the changes it would bring to my life.

Now that I spend time writing jokes about my financial situation and talking about money on my podcast, I've realized that happiness comes from making a choice to be grateful, not from a number in your accounts.

• Kelsea Myers, 20, traveled throughout North America during her freshman year of college.
• She took online classes while staying in hostels.
• Eventually, she wanted to have a more typical college experience.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kelsea Myers. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My parents have always been clear that I would need to pay for college. During my senior year I was applying to schools and realizing I could easily graduate with $200,000 or more in debt for my undergrad degree. That gave me a lot of financial anxiety.

I had a bit of a breakdown with my parents about it during the spring of my senior year. I knew I wanted to go to college and then law school. I wasn't interested in a gap year. I also wanted to get far away from my hometown in Missouri. The University of Hawaii was at the top of my list of schools, but it was just too expensive.

My stepmother is great at thinking outside the box, and she had an idea: I could enroll in online classes at the University of Missouri, my state school, to keep costs low. Then, instead of paying for room and board, I could travel. I thought it was a brilliant idea, but I was nervous. I booked a plane ticket before I could change my mind.

I traveled the US, Canada, and the Caribbean

My first stop was in Portland, Oregon. I also visited Seattle and San Diego. Once I worked up my confidence to travel internationally, I went to British Columbia, Canada. Then, I headed to the Caribbean, where I took my finals in an Airbnb on the beach while the waves crashed and sand crabs scuttled across the floor.

I stayed at each place for about three weeks, so by the end, I felt a bit like a local. I created a routine where I would wake up and do a few assignments. Then, I'd use the daylight to explore the city. At night, I'd listen to my lectures and do more school work in the hostel or a nearby café.

I had to pay a lot of attention to school work and not get distracted by travel or the party atmosphere at some of the hostels. I'm pretty studious, so that wasn't too much of a challenge. I was upfront with my professors about my travel, and they didn't have a problem. The trickiest part was making sure I submitted everything on time when I was in a different time zone. I also learned not to do assignments at the last minute because sometimes the internet access was unreliable.

People assumed my parents were paying for my travel

My peers were mostly supportive of my choice, but they had questions. They thought I might be lonely, but I met so many people. There were lots of Europeans in the hostels I stayed in. Many were in their mid-20s, so it was easy to connect.

People assumed my parents were paying for my travel, but they weren't. Scholarships covered a lot of my tuition. I took subsidized student loans through school, which paid for the rest of my tuition and some travel. I also used the money I had saved while working.

I never ran out of money because I budgeted meticulously. I knew I had a set amount of money each week, so I made compromises on how I spent it. For example, when I went to the Space Needle in Seattle, I cooked for myself the rest of the week to make up for the money I spent. I also scoured the internet for flight deals and stayed in hostels that were affordable but safe.

I wanted to try living closer to school after a year

Throughout the year, I came home for holidays or if I needed a quick two-week break between destinations. I loved the way travel helped me see new places, meet people, and learn about myself.

At the same time, I also wanted to try a more typical college experience. Plus, I was worried about money. I wanted to minimize my loans, and living in one place would let me pay for school by working rather than taking on debt.

I returned to Missouri and got an apartment off campus with friends. I went to football games and frat parties and had those traditional experiences that I had sometimes worried about missing out on.

One thing didn't change: I stayed enrolled in online classes, which gave me flexibility to work.

I'll never regret traveling during freshman year

I'm on track to graduate this spring, completing my undergrad in just three years. I still budget travel. My best friend and I went to London and Paris for spring break. I adored it and couldn't believe my classmates were partying on a beach while I was seeing the Mona Lisa.

Lots of people say they never would have thought to travel during college. I thought there was only one way to do college until my stepmom urged me to think outside the box. I'm glad she did because I learned so much.

• Dr. Ferdinando Mirarchi has practiced emergency medicine for more than 25 years.
• He's seen many misunderstandings about end-of-life medical wishes.
• Families can start the conversation, but professional input is critical, he said.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dr. Ferdinando Mirarchi, DO, founder and CEO of MIDEO Health. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was a medical intern, I was in the intensive care unit one day when a 55-year-old mother went into cardiac arrest. I ran in to shock her heart back to life when the nurses started waving papers at me. The woman had signed a "do not resuscitate" order, they said.

I was paralyzed. This lady was dying in front of me, and I knew I could save her quickly. Luckily, a cardiologist rushed in and restarted her heart. She eventually went home to her family.

A few years later, during my residency at a trauma center, a man in his 60s came in, very ill. He was septic and unresponsive, but I thought, "I'm not going to make that mistake again." I started treating him aggressively until his wife came in and told me he had end-stage cancer and was in hospice. He just wanted to die without pain.

I realized that end-of-life care was a mess

I had made a life-and-death mistake on both sides. I had withheld treatment from a young, relatively healthy mom but over-treated a man who didn't want aggressive intervention and would die anyway.

That's when I realized that end-of-life care was a complete mess in our medical system. I started researching end-of-life wishes and wrote a book about living wills, which convey medical wishes. I conducted more research on how often people's wishes are misinterpreted or misunderstood and eventually created a video-based advanced directive, which conveys your wishes if you're unable to speak.

The issues around "do not resuscitate" orders (DNRs), advanced care directives, and living wills are complex and systemic. Still, we can't shy away from conversations about medical wishes with our loved ones. Here's how to have impactful discussions, and may reduce the risks of misinterpretation.

Recognize this is a hard conversation

There's a misconception that talking about medical wishes can be simple, but it's not. This is a hard conversation to have over a holiday dinner, asking Mom about her death and then saying, "Please pass the mashed potatoes."

Still, the holidays and family gatherings can be a spot to start the conversation without getting into the nitty-gritty details. People avoid this conversation because taking action is hard, so even a small step forward is helpful.

Focus on safety, not death

Death can be scary. So, instead of starting the conversation focused on end-of-life issues, center it around patient safety. Say something like, "Mom and Dad, we want to do what's right for you and make sure we're keeping you safe." Then, have a conversation about what safety means to each of you in a medical or care setting.

Set aside the idea of long-term life support

Some people think this conversion is black and white: do you want life support or not? But there's a lot more nuance. While most people say they don't want to live on machines, that doesn't mean they should sign a DNR.

For example, if you have a heart attack, there are simple procedures that can save your life without impacting future quality of life. When you take the idea of long-term life support off the table, you can have a more detailed conversation about what your loved one really wants.

When in doubt, err on the side of intervention

Many times, life support can be used as a bridge while you learn more about someone's condition. Remember, you can always start treatment, then decide to stop it. The opposite is not true—you can't bring people back.

Put your opinions aside

Always keep the patient at the forefront, and emphasize that their healthcare is their decision, up to the end. You can say something like, "If you want aggressive care and treatment, that's fine, but if you want something else, that's OK too." Many older patients are comfortable with death, but they never want to feel pushed toward decisions like signing a DNR.

Revisit the conversation

Choices around medical care look different as your life changes. I have an older mother and a 55-year-old brother who already went into cardiac arrest once and needed a life-saving bypass operation. As their health evolves, we update their wishes at least once a year. These are not one-and-done conversations.

Talk with a doctor

The choices around end-of-life care are very intense and nuanced. You may think you're being clear, but to make sure your wishes are followed in an emergency, you must present them in a way that clinicians can follow when they only have seconds to decide what to do. As part of my practice, I now help patients and their loved ones articulate their wishes using the specific terms that physicians use.

After more than 25 years in emergency medicine, I've seen the problems with end-of-life care, but with more informed conversation and better means of communication, I'm confident we can reduce ambiguity and misinterpretation.

• Sophie Kihm is the editor in chief at Nameberry.
• She says parents choose names they like, without worrying about what others think.
• Chappell Roan and Beyoncé are impacting trendy names for 2025, too.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sophie Kihm, the editor in chief at Nameberry. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Working at a baby naming site, I see how much thought parents put into naming their kids. In the past, there's been a lot of pressure to consider what other people, and society as a whole, will think about a name. But for 2025, parents are confidently choosing names that they like without worrying about others' opinions.

Here are the top six trends I'm seeing and 58 baby names that will be right at home in the new year.

New and unique names

These new and unique names are really trend-driven. They synthesize different elements of historic names that parents find interesting and put their own unique spin on them.

These names aren't just invented, and they're no less legitimate than well-established names. They're putting a fresh spin on names rooted in history, giving parents and their babies the best of both worlds.

Names for boys include:

• Luxton
• Jakai
• Kyaire
• Aven
• Ryett, pronounced like "riot," but spelled with a softer touch

Names for girls include:

• Evani
• Hollyn
• Mayli
• Scottlynn
• Novalie

Names for world travelers

For a long time, American names were those steeped in English or Germanic tradition. But now, we're seeing a rise in distinctly American names that also reflect a family's specific cultural or ethnic background. These are also names that "travel lightly" and can be easily pronounced and understood in multiple languages.

Names for boys include:

• Elio
• Kenzo
• Luca
• Hassan
• Soren

Names for girl include:

• Adalia
• Leilani
• Oona
• Eleni
• Akira

Cutesy names

For a few years, we saw parents gravitating toward names that felt a bit mature for a baby. Lots of parents were reminded they were naming an eventual adult, not just a baby. But in 2025, parents are taking the opposite tact: they're embracing cutesy baby names, and they're not worried that a lighthearted name will hold their kid back.

Cutesy names for boys include:

• Bash
• Sonny
• Cub
• Koda
• Albie

Cutesy names for girls include:

• Blossom
• Echo
• Dolly
• Georgie
• Aqua

Vintage names coming back

These classic names will eventually become beautiful and beloved. Think of the vintage names that haven't quite been revived yet. Parents in 2025 are ready to lean into those names, even if they're not quite ripe for revival.

Names for boys include:

• Howard
• Murry
• Morris
• Oswald
• Virgil

Names for girls include:

• Ethel
• Enid
• Rita
• Sybil
• Louis

Country rebrands

Modern parents love country-inspired names, but they're taking a more inclusive look at what it means to be country. This is inspired in no small part by Beyoncé's foray into country music this year. There's also a new spin on classics, like the all-in-one name Jessejames, after the infamous outlaw.

Country rebrand names for boys include:

• Santos
• Abner
• Enoch
• Hatcher
• Lyle

For girls, they include:

• Dottie
• Opal
• Susannah
• Lou
• Polly

Femininomenal Names

Another artist who's shaping naming trends is Chappell Roan. I haven't (yet) seen a surge in little girls named Chappell or Roan, but I'm seeing more parents leaning into feminine names that are witchy, gritty, and powerful, just like Chappell Roan's music. These are also names that reimagine the stories of women in history or lore, like Circe and Guinevere.

Other femininomenal names include:

• Amaryllis
• Cosette
• Freyja
• Lilith
• Salome

Parents naming babies in 2025 are questioning what they've been told and embracing the fact that they can choose a name that they love. It's ok to them that there are complexities to names — which matches the complexities of the people who wear them.

• Jennifer Takos was in the intensive care unit for three weeks after her son was born.
• After she was diagnosed with a rare disease, she felt a close bond with her doctors.
• She was shocked to see the doctor who saved her life when she moved her son to college.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Takos. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After my son John was born, I was relieved that he was healthy, and I was healthy, too. Or at least, that's what I thought.

I had a planned C-section at NYU Langone Health. The night before I was set to be discharged, my husband Dimitri went home to spend time with our daughter, who was 2. We wanted her to be ready when we brought home her little brother.

That night, I started having difficulty breathing. I started pacing the halls, almost like I wanted to get some air. I stopped at the nurses' station to let them know something wasn't right. Then, suddenly, everything went very wrong.

My lungs had filled with blood

I don't remember much after that. There were so many doctors and nurses standing above me. Later I learned that the doctor called Dimitri and told him to get to the hospital immediately.

I had lost the ability to breathe, and doctors determined that my lungs were filled with blood. But they didn't know why that was happening. For three weeks, my husband, brother, and father were close by in the hospital as doctors in the intensive care unit worked to save my life.

Eventually, I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease: ANCA-positive vasculitis. It had been triggered by childbirth. Doctors stabilized me enough to send me home, but I was very sick for the early years of John's life. I ended up in the ICU five more times.

I regularly visited the doctor who saved me

Because of that, I became very close with my doctors. Dr. Ronald Goldenberg, a critical care specialist, had told my father, "I'm going to save your daughter." He did that not just after John's birth but each time I was back in the ICU.

When I went to the hospital for a checkup, I would visit Dr. Goldenberg. There's just no way to explain the connection and gratitude you feel when someone not only saves your life but does it in such a compassionate way.

Eventually, about 13 years ago, I moved away from New York and lost touch with Dr. Goldenberg. My dad still kept in touch with him occasionally, sending him a box of chocolates each year on the anniversary of the first time Dr. Goldenberg saved my life.

I didn't see him again until my son's college move-in date

Over time, my health stabilized, although I'm still on medications. John grew up. After graduating from high school, he took a gap year to play hockey. Then, he enrolled at Indiana University to study business.

As we pulled up to his dorm, I saw a familiar face. John was driving, and I practically leaped out of the car, saying, "Dr. Goldenberg?"

It was more than a coincidence. Dr. Goldenberg's son, Jake, is a year younger than John, but they're both studying business and were assigned to the same dorm. On a day when thousands of families were moving their children in, we happened to pull up just when they were out front. I know, for sure, it was meant to be. I felt a peace, knowing that John was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Recently, Dr. Goldenberg visited Jake. They met up with John and sent me a picture. Through this experience, John has learned more about my health condition and just how terrifying the weeks after his birth were. For me, reconnecting with Dr. Goldenberg is a reminder of why I have this beautiful life: because of him and the rest of my amazing healthcare team.

• Trina Read got her doctorate degree in sexology 23 years ago.
• She has two sons, who are 15 and 17.
• Parents should tailor their approach to talking about sex to each child, she said.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Trina Read, a sexologist and cohost of the Sensational Sex podcast. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When people learn that I'm a sexologist, they think that I'm an expert in talking to my kids about sex. Unfortunately, that's not the case. If I'm talking to clients about their sex lives, there's distance and objectivity. When I'm talking with my sons, who are 15 and 17, that goes out the window.

Still, I know I have an advantage over many parents. I'm lucky that my sons and I have had ongoing conversations about sexuality and sex for years. Some of those talks have made me squirm, but I'm glad we can have them. Here are the tips I've used to keep the conversations flowing.

Accept you're never fully ready for this conversation

Almost every time my kids bring up something they need to discuss, my attention is focused elsewhere, like on work or my long to-do list. My first response, internally, is usually, "You want to talk about this now?!"

But I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how uncomfortable or inconvenienced I feel. When your child brings something up, you have to compartmentalize everything else and meet them where they are. If you delay the conversation the moment might be gone, and next time they might not be brave enough to ask.

Create a space for conversation

Each day, I take a 20-minute drive with the boys to school. Over time, the car has become our safe place to talk about tough topics, including sex. My sons know what's talked about in the car stays in the car, so they feel safe to ask me anything and everything.

The car is a great place for difficult talks since there's no need for eye contact, and no one can get up and leave. However, your safe space might be on a walk, at home, or while doing an activity you both enjoy. The key is to find out what works for you and your kids.

Keep their trust

Oftentimes, it's just me and the boys in the car. They might tell me something that they're not comfortable telling my husband. I have to respect their wishes, even if it sometimes means keeping secrets from their dad. I don't like that dynamic, and it feels like a heavy weight, but the trust my sons have in me is worth it.

Tailor your approach to each child

One of my kids is a very analytical thinker, who likes data, research, and methodical conversation. The other is a free spirit who isn't afraid to take a deep dive into any topic. Because of that, they need two very different approaches to talking about sex.

For my analytical child, I might leave books about certain topics in his room, and then broach conversations about them later. My free spirit, on the other hand, will shut down a conversation if I try to start one. I have to wait for him to bring it up, then we can go deep.

Find the approach that's best for your child, and remember that siblings might need entirely different tactics. Give information in a way that's comfortable for them, even if that's not the most comfortable for you.

Keep answers short and sweet

As parents we feel a lot of pressure to impart knowledge to kids before they start being influenced by their peers, the internet, and other social forces. Because of that, I sometimes found myself rambling. Over time, I learned to say less, which seems to keep my sons more informed and engaged. Now I just say what needs to be said, then stop.

Pause and clarify for questions that seem too mature

At one point, my sons were asking questions that I felt were beyond their maturity level. I said, "I could tell you the answer, but I don't think you're ready for the answer." They continued to ask and beg, so I told them, to some awkwardness and embarrassment for both of us.

Now, when I say something is beyond their maturity, the boys consider truly consider that response. One of my sons usually decides to hold off on the conversation, while the other prefers to still get the information in an age-appropriate way.

Accept that you'll have frustrations

Sometimes my sons have misconceptions, shame, or guilt around sex and sexuality. It's incredibly frustrating as a mom who's worked really hard to not pass guilt or shame, and to make them well-informed about sex.

When this happens I try to clarify with facts, research, and information. But to be honest, it doesn't always work. That can be disheartening, but I'm glad to be able to engage in on-going conversations with them.

• Holiday school vacations can be difficult for working parents.
• Experts would like to see more flexible work schedules and four-day workweeks.
• Year-round schooling could also help alleviate pressure, they say.

Even before November started, I was stressed about the number of days my kids had off over the coming two months. There was Veterans Day, Thanksgiving break, winter holidays, and even a teacher in-service day thrown in for good measure. Then, my first grader missed 10 days of school due to pneumonia, and my fifth grader was struck with a stomach bug.

My husband and I are both self-employed, so with some wrangling, we were able to create a schedule that allowed us to meet our deadlines despite the kids being home seemingly constantly.

We're lucky to be able to do that. And still, I kept thinking, "There must be a better way." So, I reached out to four experts on the workplace, policy, and sociology to see how we can better align the schedules of working parents and kids. Here's what they envision.

Make flexible work policies the norm

Courtney Murphy, founder and CEO of WorkWell People Solutions, would like to see flexible work arrangements become the norm. She says they not only benefit parents and others with family obligations — they also serve employers by increasing productivity and job satisfaction while reducing burnout.

"The ideal scenario for working parents combines hybrid work with flexible hours, focusing on outcomes rather than time spent," Murphy said. "The key is to shift from managing employees' time to managing their work, holding them accountable for results rather than hours logged."

A sample policy might say something like, "Employees are empowered to manage their work schedule to meet both personal and professional responsibilities, provided all job duties are fulfilled, and team collaboration is maintained. Regular communication and coordination with managers about scheduling is expected." If set work hours are important, the company could add, "Official operating hours are 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Employees should align with these where practical."

This approach would be tricker for service professionals, but Murphy said "creative solutions like automated services during peak family times, staggered schedules, or job-sharing could provide the necessary flexibility" for those parents too.

Adopt a 4-day work and school week

Joelle Moray, author of "What Are We Doing?! Radical Self-care for the Hustle Culture," says, "A world where the four-day week exists for both employees and their families is a world I very much want to live in."

In her ideal scenario, students would complete their education during four longer school days, which better aligns with parents' traditional 9-5 work schedules. Some employers are already pivoting to a four-day workweek, and those that are unable to could offer remote work where possible, she said.

Melissa Loble, chief academic officer at Instructure, an education technology company, would also like to see a four-day academic week, with an optional fifth day with a more flexible structure.

On that day, students "could engage in sports activities, work-study, internships, or other types of activities that can be coordinated through the school."

This approach would provide supervision during the workday while also giving "students a 'breather' day where they feel less pressure from the hectic school day and pursue their non-academic pursuits," Loble added.

Choose year-round school

Margaret M. Quinlan, a professor and director of Health & Medical Humanities at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, has a two-part solution: year-round schooling and remote work after 2 p.m.

A flexible afternoon schedule "would maximize quality time with family while still fulfilling work responsibilities," Quinlan said. It would also be handy for parents like her who need to take their kids to many therapy appointments in the afternoons.

She added that the US could also pivot to a shorter summer break, following countries like Australia and Japan.

In addition to reducing the challenge of finding and paying for summer childcare, "This would minimize summer learning loss and ensure that kids have access to nutritious meals and care during these breaks," Quinlan said.

• Sophie Musumeci excelled in the corporate world despite not finishing high school.
• She became a millionaire before her 40th birthday by focusing on being debt-free.
• She enrolls her kids in entrepreneurial classes and resists the urge to buy them things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sophie Musumeci, founder of Real Entrepreneur Women. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in a rural part of South Australia, where my dad was a tree harvester. My mom mostly stayed home but worked seasonally at vineyards. In my community, there was a lot of bartering: my dad would swap service instead of money, like giving neighbors a load of firewood in exchange for help shearing sheep.

There wasn't a big emphasis on education. By the time I was in 11th grade, my school asked me to leave because I wasn't attending classes. It just wasn't a priority. It was normal for kids to leave school in grade 10 or 11, get a job, get married, and have a baby.

I started working three jobs when I left school: at the local vineyard, in retail, and at a pub. That's when I realized that the more I worked, the more I could earn. That unlocked something in me.

I climbed the corporate ladder even without degrees

When I was 18 I moved from my home to the Gold Coast, a much more metropolitan area of Australia. Despite not having a high school or college degree, I started working for a major international corporation and climbed the corporate ladder. I doubled my income every few years and was soon earning $250,000 Australian dollars (about $161,000 US dollars) a year.

When my husband and I decided to have children, we thought we'd do what all our friends were doing. Most families in our circle had two parents with corporate jobs and a nanny. We tried that at first, but when I came home and realized my son had more of the nanny's mannerisms than mine or my husband's, I knew I wanted a different option.

I became a millionaire by focusing on being debt-free by 40

When I was 32, I started my business. At first, the business was a financial drain: I had not only lost my corporate income, but I was pouring money into the business. I felt financially dependent on my husband. We had always agreed to keep finances separate, and I had to ask him for money to get my hair done. It was quite humiliating, to be honest.

All the while, I had a goal: be debt-free by 40. When I told my husband this, he laughed. We had just bought a home in Sydney, where the real estate prices rival New York City. Paying that off seemed, well, laughable.

Luckily, my business did well. It grew slowly over time, but then, in 2021 had a big leap after I found a great mentor. The business started having $100,000 AUD (about $65,000 USD) months and never went back. Just before my 40th birthday we paid off our primary residence, the last of our debt. I was a millionaire.

My kids are enrolled in an entrepreneurship school

Now, I'm 42. Money and time are never problems for me. In the corporate world, I made $250,000 AUD, working about 50 hours a week. I have more cash flow and work about 22 hours a week. My lifestyle is completely different, and I'm able to be there more for my kids.

That's the promise of entrepreneurship. Both my kids, who are 12 and 10, are enrolled in a business school for kids that teaches them about founding companies. They spend about 90 minutes each weekend studying business, and it has a real impact on their lives.

Recently, my 12-year-old made $30 from his babysitting business. He was excited about the money and also about how much fun he had. That is the dream: to be paid really well for something that gives other people value and that you enjoy. I want my kids to think differently about how they can achieve that.

I'm teaching the kids to save and invest, even when I want to buy them things

Since neither my husband nor I grew up with a lot of money, it's really important to us that our kids know how to manage money and grow wealth. We don't want them just waiting on an inheritance, which we see from some friends who have generational wealth.

We're teaching them, starting with allowances and gifts. All monetary gifts from birthdays or Christmas are put into a savings account, and we're now teaching the kids about investing that money. They also get $20 a month for completing basic chores like taking out the trash. They can use that money for impulse buys like candy or save it, which my son recently did for a new Nintendo game.

Sometimes, I just want to buy them candy or games. I stop myself because letting them understand the value of their money is an important lesson. Hopefully, it will keep them from being financially dependent on me and allow them to grow their wealth long term.

• Sheri Atwood became a millionaire in her 20s, and again in her 40s.
• After reassessing what she was spending on, she decided to prioritize her daughter's education.
• She gave her daughter an allowance to teach her about money and had her pay for her own things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sheri Atwood, the founder and CEO of SupportPay. It has been edited for length and clarity.

The first time I became a millionaire, I was 24. I was a vice president in corporate cyber security, making $450,000 a year — more money than I ever could have imagined growing up poor.

Despite my wealth, I wasn't happy. I was married and had a 4,000-square-foot house near the California vineyards. When I was poor, I always thought money and material wealth would make me happy, but I was absolutely miserable.

Soon after my daughter Janicya was born, I got divorced. I was a single mom, like my own mother had been, but I was in a very different financial situation. I wanted to be smart with my money, investing to create a solid financial foundation for my daughter.

I spent $43,000 a year on private school

With that in mind, I started to reassess what I was spending my money on. My big house was stressing me out, and I realized I'd rather live in a townhouse with less maintenance. I didn't buy new clothes or cars. Even now, I drive a Lexus, but it's 17 years old.

Instead, I spent on my daughter's education. I only escaped poverty because of my master's degree and knew I would never regret investing in Janicya. I put her in an expensive and wonderful private school, paying $43,000 a year in elementary school tuition and even more than that as she got older. Because that was my choice alone, my ex didn't contribute to tuition.

Teaching my daughter financial literacy was critical

When Janicya was 7, she had emergency brain surgery. My job required tons of travel, so I quit my corporate role to start my own company. It was self-funded, and although I was financially stable, I wasn't a millionaire anymore. I reached that status again about four years ago, in my early 40s.

I was always of two minds about my daughter and money. I wanted her to understand the value of money, and I also wanted to give her access to everything I never had.

Teaching Janicya financial literacy was a way to do both. I never learned about credit, or interest, or how to leverage other people's money (via loans and investment) to build your wealth. My mom declared bankruptcy, and my sister had multiple bankruptcies. I wanted Janicya to have access to the same financial knowledge as her private school peers who had generational wealth.

I gave her allowance to teach her the value of money

I also wanted Janicya to learn day-to-day money skills. I gave her an allowance that's meant to pay for incidentals, like Starbucks or fancy new cups. I taught her we can't always keep up with others — especially those at her private school. When she wanted an expensive purse, I showed her I didn't even have one.

Sometimes, however, I bent the rules. As a single mom running a business, it was sometimes easier to give her money to go out with her friends because I just needed some downtime. Once, she had a chance to travel to Puerto Rico with a friend's family. I paid for that because it was an opportunity I would have loved as a teen.

Today, my daughter works hard and tells me when to scale back

Still, I tried to make Janicya understand the value of money. When she was 16, she got a job scooping ice cream. Today, she's 20 and a junior in college. My ex and I pay her tuition, but she pays all her other expenses. She's working two jobs while in school, which makes me proud.

Right now, she wants a new car. She's currently driving a 20-year-old Lexus with 180,000 miles — it used to be her grandmother's. I told her I'll match what she saves for a new vehicle. I'll do the same one day when she's ready to buy her first home.

Although I'm a millionaire again, I continue to live like I'll never make another dollar. After growing up poor, I'm terrified of having no money. I like to save and invest, and I never overextend myself with loans and credit cards.

But I've also learned from Janicya. She tells me I work too much. I know from experience that money isn't everything, so I'm trying to spend more time with her — and maybe even take a vacation.

• Bliss Poureetezadi Goytowski and husband Zack welcomed their daughter in April.
• Bliss had a history of depression and tried to prepare ahead of time.
• She hesitated to take medication, but now calls it a "miracle."

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bliss Poureetezadi Goytowski, co-host of the "Blind Love" podcast. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Before my daughter Galileo was born in April, I thought a lot about postpartum depression. I have a history of depression, so I knew I was at risk. I'd been on antidepressants after college, but for the past decade I managed my symptoms with therapy, exercise, and other holistic approaches.

I spoke with my husband, Zack, and he educated himself about the signs of postpartum depression. We got a doula, and talked about our concerns with her. I made a plan to have my mom stay with us for the first month, and had friends deliver freezer meals. I created space so I could just focus on my health and my baby.

I also reminded myself that everything might be fine: I didn't want postpartum depression to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, or to convince myself I would definitely have it.

As a family, we were prepared as we could possibly be. And yet, you can never have the perfect plan.

I had symptoms soon after Galileo's birth

I started struggling almost immediately. My labor was 42 hours, then I was launched straight into taking care of a newborn. I struggled to breastfeed, and the sleep deprivation just built up.

I started to fear the night. I struggled to get up in the mornings. I was crying a lot, and wasn't able to watch anything but comedies — any emotion felt like too much. Worst of all, when I got Galileo out of her bassinet each morning, I knew the smile on my face was fake.

At my six week checkup I filled out a questionnaire about mental health. I could see that I was scoring really low. When my doctor walked in she said, "What's going on?" She was very open and clear that I needed help. What I was feeling was not normal, though it was common, she said. That was really validating, since as a first-time mom I thought maybe how I was feeling was the norm.

I hesitated to fill my prescription

That day my doctor wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant that was safe to take while breastfeeding. That was really important to me. She was very insistent that medication would help me, though ultimately going on medication was up to me.

Despite that, I didn't fill the prescription at first. After living without medication for years, going back on felt like a step backward. I tried my usual holistic health approaches, from tea to cold baths to exercise, but nothing worked.

That's when I knew I needed to fill the prescription, for Galileo. My daughter needed me to be present for her. A few weeks later I filled the script.

Medication has allowed me to enjoy motherhood

About two weeks after that, I bent over Galileo's bassinet in the morning and felt a genuine smile on my face. I didn't have to remind myself to smile at her. That's when I knew things were getting better.

It's been a few months, and I'm still on medication. Eventually I would like to wean off, but for now I'm so grateful for the miracle of medicine. It has allowed me to finally enjoy motherhood in the way I always dreamed of.

Galileo says "mama" now, and rolls across the room to things she wants to see. I can't wait to show her holiday traditions. Her laughter is the most precious thing in the world, and she is the love of my life. She gives me purpose in a way I didn't know I needed.

When I was pregnant, I thought motherhood would be a part of who I am, but not everything. Now, I feel like being Mama is my identity. Everything else I do comes from that core — including sharing my story.

Moms need help, but even the most prepared can still be hit by postpartum depression. I want others to know they're not alone, and there is hope for treatment. I'm proof of that.

• Julia Myers met her goal to become a millionaire before she turned 40.
• Some of her frugal practices have stayed even now that she's hit that benchmark.
• She doesn't pay for her kids' college education, but has a plan to repay their student loans.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Julia Myers, founder of Generational Wisdom. It has been edited for length and clarity.

It was a goal of mine to become a millionaire before I turned 40. Even more than seeing seven figures in the bank, I wanted financial independence, knowing that I could survive and thrive without being tied to a specific job.

Growing up, my dad went to work every day and saved hard for his retirement at 65. By the time he'd built wealth, he didn't have the health to go with it. I didn't want that to happen to me.

That was fortuitous since I needed to take early retirement from my job as a hospital executive after my retina detached and I lost sight in my right eye. No one wants a one-eyed pharmacist. Luckily, my financial situation meant I was comfortable leaving that job at 38. I continued to invest and accrue wealth and was a millionaire the next year.

We skip drinks at restaurants but travel internationally

I live frugally, which helped me become a millionaire. I focused on getting rid of or avoiding consumer debt and started investing early. I even invested a portion of my student loans after keeping my cost of living low. I wouldn't recommend that, but it worked for me.

I still live by those principles. We're a one-car family, and that car is a 2016 Honda Accord. We rarely eat out, and we don't order alcohol or sodas when we do. These things aren't important to our family, so we don't spend on them.

Instead, we splurge on the things that have real value to us, including travel. We love to travel internationally as a family.

A trip to the DMV made me realize I can't always control my kid's expectations

My kids range in age from 8 to 20. We've helped the two oldest buy cars by matching the amount that they saved. My oldest bought a 2008 Nissan Altima for her first car. She was so proud of researching the car and negotiating the sale, and I felt like I was showing her a valuable life lesson.

Then, we got to the DMV to register the car. My daughter looked around and said, "Where's the fast pass line?" Because our family values experiences, we're always willing to spend on skipping the line, by paying for tools like TSA Pre-Check. That was an aha moment. No matter how intentional I am with raising the kids to not be entitled, they're only going to know what they're used to.

We give our kids a $1,500 launching bonus, then they're on their own

The two oldest (18 and 20) have moved out of the house because it's important to me that they are independent. There are things you won't learn until you're living on your own.

When the kids get ready to move out, my husband and I ask them to prepare a budget. Once we see that, we give them a one-time $1,500 launch payment to help them get started. After that, they're 100% on their own. Money is spent differently when it's yours.

We're not paying for college up front, but we will help with loans

My parents had a policy that I'd always have food and a roof over my head. In line with that, they paid for my room and board in college while I covered tuition. I left school with minimal loans and a degree in pharmacy that led me to a lucrative career. That's contributed to my financial success.

Still, I've taken a different approach with my kids, and we're not paying for their college up front. However, we still have a plan to help them. When they graduate, we'll either pay off their student loans or help with a down payment on a house.

We don't have a set amount for this or other financial decisions regarding the kids. I don't think parenting always needs to be even to be fair. If one of the kids pursues an advanced degree, we would likely give them more money than a child who had a more affordable education.

We're leaving the kids money, but they have to give half away

We regularly tell the kids that we're spending some of their inheritance now to have experiences with them, like those international trips. Still, we plan to leave the kids money when we die — with a caveat.

Each child will have to give half of their inheritance away to a charity they choose. It's one of the many ways I'm encouraging them to create purpose in their own lives, independent from me.