I came home from the office one day last week and had this realization. It’s gotten better. Or… it becomes *different* as the kids get older, and so much becomes more tolerable, doable, and you know what? Also better.
Do my pre-teens still mime at me from behind my laptop while I’m on a Zoom, thinking I can just mime back and that’s totally normal on a work call? Yes.
Do I still come home from the office to an absolute mess after my kids (four, ages 12-5) have returned from school (on their own!) to lounge around in their, apparently, all-paid hotel suite? Yes.
Must I still spend my evenings cleaning up, washing up, picking up, throwing my hands up, and then going back to work to finish the day? Yes…
But – I sleep a little better. I navigate the week better. I sense the empowerment of my professional role modeling for my kids. I feel the tangible way I am imparting a work ethic. We even talk meaningfully about what I do.
Eventually… it’s not all spit-up on your work shirt as you’re walking out the door. It’s no longer pumping in the supply closet. Or getting annoying comments around the office while you’re pregnant.
I see you, working moms. I’m 12+ years in and I’m still tired, still figuring it out, but still saying, it *does* get better. If you ever want to, 👇 drop me a comment to vent, be reminded, or even tell me it’s getting better; I’m here.