Is Being a Working Parent Just Too Much?

It’s Sunday evening and I’m giving my adorable, almost two year-old daughter a bath. I’m trying to be present, but have been fighting a nasty sinus infection myself, and am distracted by my symptoms. She’s jovial and content, enjoying the warm water and splashing in the tub. I pull her out to dry her off, and her demeanor changes quickly – she starts crying and shivering, clearly upset and cold, in a way that’s abnormal for her in our 70-degree home. I get her dressed and blow dry her hair to warm her up, then take her temperature, confirming what I’m pretty sure is going on: she has a fever.

My first thought is: I’m concerned for my girl. I know fevers can mean many things in kids, and unfortunately her daycare did report a few cases of Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease in her classroom (a really gross-sounding, yet mostly harmless ailment of daycares). She’s also teething, she could just have a cold… who knows. For now at least, she is okay.

My very next thought is: I’m considering how my husband and I will manage keeping her home from daycare for at least the next two days (they have a 48-hour symptom-free policy). It’s hard to find someone last-minute who is willing to take care of your sick child in “normal” times, but in 2021 when a fever could possibly mean a highly-transmissible virus that has killed nearly 750,000 people in the US alone… good luck.

So, we’re left to play a super fun game of Working Parent Acrobatics, attempting to juggle her between both of our full time, remote jobs. We are lucky to be able to work remotely, but when both of our jobs are demanding and busy, we’re left to scramble… negotiating who’s meeting is more important, who’s team might tolerate a video meeting with a toddler tagging along, all the while concerned for our child’s well-being.

I think to myself, “this is just a rough period, I know it won’t last” but moments later I reconsider. Being a full time working parent is just… really really hard, even on a normal day. During the times when the *you-know-what* hits the fan and it’s one thing after another and it seems utterly relentless with no breathing room… I find myself wondering:

Is being a working parent is just too much?

Between a 45-hour work week, trying to raise a toddler and two teenage stepsons, caring for two furry, four-legged beings who have an affinity for escaping the yard and getting ear infections, managing a home and a yard in the suburbs, planning meals, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, and the endless loads of laundry (seriously, how many clothes do we WEAR???), I wonder how my husband and I have time for each other, or ourselves. I hear some people exercise every day and have hobbies.

I used to exercise every day and have hobbies.

The truth is, we simply don’t have time for all these things. Most days, something has fallen to the wayside (fine, I admit it: every day). Either the laundry has piled up, the house is a mess, we’re not bringing our best work self to the job, we have zero meals planned for the week, our daughter hasn’t had a bath in three days, or the dog is suffering from a painful ear because nobody could squeeze in a call and trip to the vet. Notice how nowhere in those sentences did I mention anything about self-care, or having time to ourselves.

The crazy thing is, in terms of sharing the load, I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I face these challenges daily – side by side with my partner, and we figure out how best to divide things up between us. My husband does 95% of the dishes in the house, we share cooking and shopping duties, and we take turns each day with daycare drop-offs and pick-ups. We both have full time jobs, and we’re both full time parents. I know this isn’t necessarily the philosophy of some marriages and partnerships. Often (sadly), the mental and physical acrobatics fall solely to the woman of the house, or to one partner more than the other.

This is the reality of being a full-time working parent: I feel like I’m running on empty every single day, and I’m desperately trying to make sure nobody knows. I apply my makeup, do my hair, join my video meetings, and put on my best smile… attempting to create an illusion that I somewhat have it together. That I can do this. That I am capable, intelligent, and balanced, ready to do the job ahead. And in my case, (thanks to a background in acting), I think I manage to pull off a believable performance.

I didn’t intend for this to turn into a whiny, pitiful, and long-winded rant about the everyday stresses that I am sure most parents working in Corporate America face. We all have challenges and tough things to manage in life, even without kids!

I suppose my overwhelming sentiment in writing this, and my ask to everyone reading it is: can’t we do better for working parents?

I want to work in a Corporate America where:

• When my daughter gets sick, I can just take the day off and not worry about (a) my billable hours and overall utilization, (b) whether I’m letting down my project team, and (c) if I will be evaluated poorly at the end of the year compared to my coworkers who don’t have kids.
• In an interview for a new job when I have the opportunity to ask another mom about the reality and challenges of working in this industry with a young child, she doesn’t say “Well… in my typical day I do usually wake up in the morning before she gets up to work for an hour or two, then I take a couple hours in the evening to have dinner as a family and put her to bed, then I come back online to finish things up.”
• Moms are in just as many leadership positions as Dads and non-parents.
• I don’t wonder if someday I will become one of the working moms leaving the workforce and giving up my career because it’s just too hard.

So, if you work in Corporate America, I have a few challenges for you:

• Check in with your coworkers who are parents, especially if you manage them. Ask them how they are doing, really. Ask them if they need time off. Encourage them to go get a massage or go for a run in the middle of the workday, and mean it. Tell them explicitly that you don’t expect them to work before their child wakes up and after they go to bed. Tell them you are here to support them.
• If you’re in a leadership position, look around at your peers. How many of them are moms? Look at the levels above you and ask the same question. If you’re in a position to influence hiring and promotion decisions, check your own internal bias about the candidates. Do you feel differently about the moms, dads, or parents?
• Attend an event, or better yet – join a business resource group (also called employee resource groups) for women or parents. Listen to what people have to say. Hear their stories and consider how you can better support a working parent (tip: showing up to these events is one way of supporting them).
• If you ARE a working parent, fight the urge to do it all. Don’t get online after your kids go to bed. Instead, connect with your partner, meditate, journal, watch a show, or workout. Do something for yourself. And, give your team a chance. I think so often we are making up stories about what we “need” to do, and in reality, nobody expects us to do those things. We put the pressure on ourselves to go the extra mile to ensure it doesn’t seem like we’re lacking compared to our non-parent peers. Give yourself a break.

In my characteristically optimistic fashion, I’ll close with this: I truly believe that we can do better for working parents, and I’m hopeful for the future. The dreams I have for Corporate America can come true, if we make it so. I know we can do it, if we each choose to be part of the solution.

If you made it this far, thank you. It’s hard to be vulnerable and speak up about this stuff. I’m trying this new thing where I worry less about what people might think of me, and I attempt to be courageous and speak what’s inside my soul.

My therapist has a tagline in their email that says, “Try listening to your own lectures.”

I think I’ll go ahead and do that.?