All Things G&D

If you had asked me 5 years ago where I thought I’d be today I probably would have said:

Happily married to G.
A mom.
The COO of a nonprofit, saving the world one child at a time.
Still searching for that perfect shade of lipstick.

Four years ago I held Kate in my arms for the first time and my whole world changed in a way I never could have imagined.  Before Kate was born I didn’t even like babies.  Before Kate was born I would’ve bet money I was going to cut my maternity leave short.  Before Kate was born my vision of myself was as a suited-up woman working a 40+ hour job outside of the home.

I had an incredibly difficult time returning to work after maternity leave, and was so grateful when I was able to negotiate a reduced schedule at work that allowed me to stay home with Kate on Mondays (our “Momdays”).  It felt like the perfect fit for our family for a long time.

Until it didn’t.

My commitment to Kate had always been no TV, no laptop, and no phone as long as she’s awake.  I bent that rule when Kate started watching kids’ shows (I’d check my email or social media during that time) but other than that I did a pretty good job of sticking to the expectations I had for myself as a parent.  Our “Momdays” were especially sacred, and even though it was a work day for my coworkers, I’d set the limit up front that I would not be checking my emails or responding to messages on that day.

I pretty much thought I was kicking ass at the whole work/life balance thing until about a year ago.  After 10 years of working for an incredible nonprofit that truly is saving the world one child at a time (we support children with mental health issues) the balance was beginning to shift.  There was more work to do than there was time in the day to do it, and I had allowed my limits to erode.  I started checking my email and taking care of work things when it should have been family time.  I was stressed over making sure I spent enough time physically at the office, which meant missing out on precious, limited family time at home before Kate went to bed.  Life pretty much looked like this:

Wake up, get ready, drop Kate off at daycare, drive to work (20-40 minute commute depending on traffic), work from 8:30am-5pm, and drive home (40-60 minutes depending on traffic).  G and Kate are already home, and Kate is sitting alone at the kitchen table eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while G is doing dishes.  If we’re lucky we have 30 minutes to play before Kate’s bedtime.  Put Kate to bed, come back downstairs, and start making dinner for me and G.  If we’re lucky we eat before 9pm.  (On nights G does bedtime I start dinner sooner and we eat around 8pm.)  After dinner I open my laptop and work until bedtime.

“This is not the life I envisioned for our family!” I cried to G one night.

What I wanted was for all three of us to sit around the table and eat dinner together – a home-cooked one, containing neither peanut butter nor jelly.  I wanted my daughter not to rush to bring me my phone if she saw it wasn’t sitting near me.  I wanted to be present – truly there – for my family, instead of distracted, stressed, or buried in a laptop.

“What’s the end game here??” I asked myself over and over.  Work harder?  Work more hours?  For…what?  Anyone who works in the nonprofit world knows the pay is minimal and raises are nonexistent.  Flexibility and the mission were  two of the things I loved about my job, but flexibility can only go so far and there’s no mission more important to me than caring for my family.  “What’s the end game?” I’d wonder as I sat in my office chair, staring at this card pinned to my bulletin board and the time-wasting commute ahead of me:

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When Kate was born and my world shifted I became unreasonably fixated on the day she starts kindergarten.  This day terrifies me more than Juan Pablo is terrified of the L-word.  I knew, no matter what, that when the time came I wanted a job that allowed me to pick Kate up and be home with her after school, and to also do some volunteer work in the classroom throughout the week.  In my mind that’s what I’ve been working toward and dreaming of since before my c-section had healed.  

I want to be paying enough attention to understand what my daughter needs when her world shifts for the first time.

I want to be home when my family gets home.

I want to have after school snacks ready, and Kate sitting at the kitchen island doing her homework while I prepare a healthy, home-cooked meal.

I want all three of us to sit around the table each night, eat dinner together as a family, and talk about our day.

I want how I spend my time to reflect what I value in life.

End game defined.

I knew I was off course.  My actions weren’t getting me to my end game.

In August I started my Wildtree business, helping busy people save time in the kitchen through freezer meal workshops.  I know it sounds crazy to add something else to the chaos, but I fell in love with the products (they’re all-natural and organic) and wanted a nice little discount on my groceries.  Interestingly enough, I also discovered that the time Wildtree saved me in the kitchen equalled what I put back into my business, so time-wise it was a wash.  On top of that, I was making money and had slashed our monthly grocery bill.  It became just the thing we needed to shift our world again.

At the beginning of October – 11 years after I was first handed my office key and a box of business cards – I gave my notice.  It was a hard conversation to have, but I knew it was time and I knew it was the right thing for our family.  I reported directly to our Executive Director and there is no one else at my agency who does what I do.  I care a lot about my coworkers and this organization we’ve built over the past decade, so I worked with my boss to plan for a very long and thoughtful transition out of the agency.  I turned in my keys at the end of January, although I am happy to say the ties aren’t cut completely as there are still a couple of projects I’m working on.

I will forever treasure my time there.

And I will forever treasure this time I have carved out to focus on my family.

Life today looks much different for us than it did a month ago.  I’ve been working from home doing some nonprofit consulting, working my Wildtree business, and writing my blog.  The only commute I have is to the grocery store.  Momdays are once again work-free and filled with laughter and fun.  I am home when my family gets home, and the three of us sit around our kitchen table and eat a healthy meal together.

Simple things, but they mean the world to me.

I have no idea how this will all pan out or what life will look like 5 years (or even 5 months) from now, but to Me 5 Years Ago – here’s the scoop:  You’re still happily married to G – the most thoughtful and supportive husband in the world (and no, you still don’t deserve him).  Together you had a daughter and she is everything.  You’re not COO of anything, but you save the world every day for one child.

Now if only we could find that lipstick…