For the past year or so I’ve been saying that I think the 21st century will become known as the Century of Women, just as the 20th was widely declared to be the American Century and the 19th as the Industrial Age.

When I make that declaration in public gatherings, the applause seems to come almost entirely from women. Men don’t boo or walk out, but neither do they cheer the possibility. Perhaps this is because they accept the premise or—more likely—because they have not considered it.

Forecasting the future is a perilous exercise and I am fully aware of the difficult landscape yet to be traveled. Nonetheless, the advances are too little remarked upon or recognized.

Dear Chloe,

Not long ago you asked me if I love work more than I love you and your brother.

The question breaks my heart, and as you are almost eight, I’m pretty sure it was designed to. Don’t worry; I don’t hold it against you. Daughters are meant to know and agitate their mother’s vulnerable spots—it’s part of the special intimacy we share. I did the same thing to my mom, giving her the business for going back to work part-time when I was even older than you, after she’d spent years at home raising me, my brother and sister. I’ll be sure bring our conversation up over and over again when you’re an adult and facing the same kinds of comments from your own daughter, like my mom does to me. (P.S. Mom, really sorry—again!)