Working moms often feel like they haven't accomplished enough. I've learned to accept that my kids are delaying my goals for good reason. It’s okay I can’t achieve enough every day…
I had so many high hopes and expectations
When I was pregnant with my son last year, I made a vow that when the time came for my maternity leave*, I would go guns blazing, writing, recording, and creating, while he napped. I learned with my daughter that newborns sleep A LOT and they don’t need me to stare at them while they’re safely bundled in their crib. I can sneak away and do things for myself.
During my last leave, I can’t remember how many Netflix shows I binge-watched or how many times I ran errands that didn’t need to be done by foot just so that it gave me a reason to go for a walk with her. I had to find ways to kill time, slowly burning through the days of loneliness and silence. However, the boredom was what gave my mind the time and space to rediscover my passion for writing, serving as a catalyst to start my blog Sum (heart) On Sleeve over 3 years ago.
So with my son, I assumed it would be a very similar situation, that I would have ample time to do anything I wanted; And I wanted to put all my effort and focus onto writing.
*(In Canada, we are blessed to have this opportunity to take time away from our jobs to care for our babies; yes, I’ve heard the complaints and even received snide comments from some mothers about how they stopped reading my blog because they couldn’t relate to my entitled lifestyle.)
I wrote like there was tomorrow. I created like there was no limit.
So I went all in the moment he was born. My husband would drop my daughter off at my parents and then I’d whip my laptop out and it was GO TIME.
In the first few months, I was running on adrenaline and postpartum hormones. He was either sleeping or zoning out on the floor and I could get so much done. I was constantly pumping out content, writing blogs, generating social media posts. Ideas were coming to me, while I was sleeping, awake, drifting off into neverland. It really was a blur.
I’m an overachiever who gets shit done. And boy, did I get a lot of shit done. I published 3 books and created 2 courses. This was one of the most productive 3 months of my life.
But there was never enough time because of him
Despite my productiveness, it never seemed like there was enough time to do all things I wanted to do. He would wake up from his nap and I would be typing half a sentence, interrupting my train of thought. He would be quietly playing on the floor but then he’d spit up, forcing me to get up and change him.
He was becoming a burden to me, something that was getting in the way, a barrier to my success. And resentment wasn’t far along.
As he transitioned from the newborn phase to the infant stage to now the almost toddler stage where he’s learning to walk and climb on every piece of furniture he can get his tiny hands on, his needs have changed and I can no longer sit in front of my computer typing away while he quietly entertains himself.
There would be moments I would be in the middle of recording a video and he would wake up crying from his nap; my phone would capture me spewing out a disgruntled,
“Aargh!!!!”
I’d stop the camera, stomp upstairs to him, rolling my eyes as though I was a director and he was an extra who didn’t follow his cue, ruining the scene.
“Cut!”
But he’s a baby. He’s my son and I’m his mother. He doesn’t do anything with ill intent. He is an innocent, naive, helpless little baby. He’s crying because he has a valid reason. He’s communicating to me that he’s hungry, tired, pooped, scared…etc. He is not purposely trying to prevent me from reaching my dreams and goals.
He needs me.
And I realized that I need him.
Overachievers don’t know when they’re overachieving
As an overachieving, recovering perfectionist, one of my blind spots is not knowing when enough is enough. I have a very high breaking point in my ability to endure stress because I’ve been developing my mental resilience since I was in grade school, juggling homework, piano, basketball practices, part-time babysitting, swimming lessons, Chinese school like a tiny boss baby.
My mind can conjure up blog topics, potential book ideas, marketing campaigns, racing a mile a minute while physically tackling my to-do list, emptying the dishwasher, stir-frying dinner, putting away toys, like a lioness in pursuit of an antelope that will feed her starving cubs.
And that built-up tolerance is what made me a natural at managing all the things a working mother needs to do. When I’m good at doing something, my tendency is to set the bar higher and higher, addicted to the challenge, curious to see how far I can go.
How many things can I accomplish? How efficient can I get without sacrificing quality?
How much more can I write before his quiet whimpering becomes a loud, piercing scream that’ll cause the neighbours to be concerned?
How many more videos can I edit before she’s bored with her toys and wants me to play with her again?
How much more resentment can I hold against my husband because I’m keeping score of who does more in the house and it appears I’m winning?
I had become a Chinese factory that’s gone through its 10th process improvement iteration, well-oiled, results-driven and ready to produce more with a fraction of the cost.
But what was at stake?
Oh, nothing…just anything that matters like my mental health, emotional well-being, relationships with my kids, my marriage…etc.
Faster ≠ better
From his crying to my daughter whining at me to put the laptop away so I can play with her, every interruption corresponds to me taking half a step towards my goals instead of a full one. I cannot produce and work at the pace my mind wants me to because my heart is slowing me down. It is impossible to go ‘full steam ahead’ when your tank is half full.
The love and attention I want to give my children conflicts with the passion and drive I want to give to my dream, forcing me to slow down, testing my patience, tugging me in two different directions, contributing to that unfortunate working mom guilt.
But does reaching your dreams faster mean a better journey?
No, if it means I can’t take back what I missed out on, sharing the same regrets (eg. spent more time with family, didn’t work so hard) that so many old people on their death beds have.
Remember it’s the turtle who wins the race
Whenever I sit on the floor with my 4-year-old, role-playing as a plastic spotted dog or coming up with outrageous stories that have major plot holes, 10 minutes feels like an hour.
We often hear folks complain about how time is flying by.
“I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since the Vancouver Olympics.”
“It’s pumpkin spice season already? What happened to summer?”
“It’s Monday already? It feels like we didn’t even have a weekend.”
My kids are a constant reminder in my life to slow down, to let time swell so that I don’t become a spectator as it passes by me. They are great at teaching me how to be mindful, appreciating the little things that I mindlessly take for granted.
For instance, there was one time when we were driving home and my daughter yells,
“The moon, mom! The moon looks funny. Do you see it? It’s over there”
I look out my window and the moon looked like a sliver of almond; I could barely see it but yet she noticed. I respond,
“Oh wow! Yes, I see it. It looks your fingernail clipping.”
My daughter chuckles,
“Haha…it really does, mom!”
I turn around and look at her; she gives me a wide smile as though we had just shared a small secret. And seeing her smile gives me a sense of joy that is unlike the strides I’ve made toward my goals because these are the moments I fear missing out on.
My one and only FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) isn’t work-related
I can always work harder because work will always be there. The opportunities will come and go; if I miss out on one or a dozen, there will be another dozen waiting for me when I’m ready with the capacity to take them on.
Believing in abundance minimizes my fears of missing out on opportunities that could potentially allow me to reach my dreams faster. I’m not falling behind because I am in control of my timeline.
However, my kids don’t standstill. I can’t control their timelines. There are no pause buttons. They’re growing, every day, learning, developing, building connections in their brains about how the world works, the good, the bad and the ugly. They’re only young for so long. They don’t stay babies. They don’t stay preschoolers. They don’t stay mouthy, attitude giving, teenagers (thank goodness).
I want to break the generational cycle
The sage advice that seasoned parents often give to young parents is,
“Enjoy these moments while they’re still young because they grow up too fast.”
They’re right; I don’t want to be giving the same piece of advice when I’m their age. Instead, I will be telling young parents,
“Children are a gift of time travel. I finally learned to slow down and you will too.”
My worth isn’t defined by my work
I am more than just a mother.
I am more than just a writer, a content creator, an author, a speaker…
I am more than just a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend…
There are so many facets of my life that are meaningful, that define my worth and give purpose to my existence. And the amount of effort I put into each role at a point in time doesn’t reflect who I am as a whole.
Motherhood teaches me things I cannot learn from work
When I make a conscious decision to spend my day playing with my children instead of working on my next book,
Are my skills going to get rusty? Will I forget how to construct a proper sentence? How to format a document?
Will I have to re-learn how to post a blog? How to publish on social media?
Will I need to learn new techniques on how to market myself? Adapt to new social media platforms? Adjust to the ever-changing trends on selling and publishing books?
To be honest…probably not but I know there are thousands of resources out there to help me. However, being a mom to my kids is an experience no book, article, manager, job, work project or coach, can give me.
Parenting is an ongoing, 24/7 applied leadership course on ethics, coaching, negotiation, effective communication, planning, time management, accountability, change management, team building and conflict resolution where you are constantly tested for your patience, compassion and empathy; you can only pass it by doing. And the skills acquired are transferrable to anything we want because we earned them with our blood, sweat and tears.
Just talk to any parent who’s had to defuse a fight between siblings, plan a family vacation, schedule the kids’ extracurricular activities, teach their kid to tie their shoes, ride a bike, read a book, express and manage their emotions…
I focus on what I can do during the day, not how long it will take me
Working mothers are efficient and focused beasts. I don’t like wasting time because my time is incredibly precious. When I’m writing and creating, I rarely diddle daddle because every minute I have, I use it wisely. My kids might need me and although I used to (and sometimes still do) think that I wasn’t doing enough each day to reach my dream, I’ve created a little mantra for myself that helps me feel a little less guilty about what I did do.
Every day, I will do as much as I can to work on my goals, whether it’s composing a 3000-word blog post or designing a captivating Instagram post or responding to the messages, comments and questions in my community; every step that I take gets me closer.
It’s like saying how you can’t eat the whole elephant in one sitting but you can take a bite at a time. I focus on micro-tasks, knowing I’m chipping away at something bigger that will take years to accomplish. This requires a lot of patience and faith to continually believe that those small bits of effort are worth it, that being there for my kids now is a far better investment than when they’re grown.
I will enjoy the fruits of my labour
What helps drive my patience and faith is the confidence I have in my work ethic, my skills and abilities, dedication and commitment to the dream. I’m not going to lie but there are definitely days where I feel like my kids have taken every last ounce of my energy, crippling my motivation and I’m insecure about whether there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
However, I reassure myself that tomorrow is a new day and how I approach it is an opportunity to change my mindset. I remind myself why working on my goals matter and how they align with my values, that when the time comes and my kids need me less, I will get up, change gears and take the initiative to go full speed.
Until then, I’m going to race upstairs to my son who’s been napping for the past hour and take a mental picture of his angelic face.
So Readers, do your kids get in the way of your goals and dreams? What’s something you do that allows you to accept the delay?
