Parenting is really, really hard work, no matter who you are.
Being a working parent with a full time job ups the ante a little bit.
Being a single working mom with an executive role in a hyper growth company is asking for a new level of insanity. Somewhere along the line, I deluded myself that I could become SuperMom. That's impossible. The reality is that I'm just a girl with a torn cape, a lot of big dreams and a very high bar for herself. And I attempt to give it my best every day.
We all parent differently. I know some stay at home parents who are totally checked out and they make you wonder why they ever had kids in the first place. I know some stay at home parents who are so natural, they should give lessons. The same goes for working parents. Paid job or not, I truly believe it's the quality of time you spend with your children that is what really matters.
I try so hard to maximize the quality of time I spend with my daughters. But there are some days when I just say, holy s*it. There is a LOT on my plate. And I wish I did have some superpowers. Here's some context for why.
Like a butterfly whose colors primarily reside on her fingertips and choice in heels, I go through a metamorphasis over the course of my drive home from work. I slowly evolve from a direct and decision making working woman who doesn't shut up all day to a quiet introvert who reenergizes by hosting her own versions of MTV Unplugged in the privacy of her driver's seat. And then as the garage door opens, the final transformation of the day occurs. I emerge from my silver cacoon and ascend the stair case, already hearing the chaos on the other side of the door, waiting to greet me. As I turn the door handle, I have shed my work costume. I enter the kitchen as SuperMom.
SuperMom can not leap tall buildings. She can, however, edit a paper on African elephants, while simultaneously responding to incoming emails regarding the following day's board meeting. She dislikes this, as she tries very hard to manage these few hours after entering the kitchen with no evidence of her SuperWorkChick persona. This time is meant for her girls. But sometimes it is necessary for these two to meet. And thankfully, these two girls understand and have my back.
But then you can feel the cape beginning to tear. Elephants and emails are easy to balance. Throw a leaking ceiling into the mix and then you test your powers. And your patience. And your sanity.
So SuperMom flies upstairs to find out what could be causing the leak. Of course it is a child who has overflowed the toilet and thought it would be fun to take a shot a plunging it herself. It didn't work. And as you stand there literally wearing rubber boots while you clean up the mess one of your children takes a rubber duck out of the tub and puts it on the floor to watch it float. At this point, you wish your cape would help you really fly. Because if you could, you would be getting the f* out of that house right then and there and heading to Fiji. Or Florence. Or anywhere that doesn't involve African elephants, plungers, or board meetings.
But your cape has a tear. You cannot fly. So you walk really fast. You walk fast so you can keep up with the chaos that you will never be able to stay ahead of.
And then you smile. You chose this life, and you can't imagine living any other way. Sure, a day off every once in awhile is great. But you love your kids. You love your career. You love your life. No one said it had to be graceful. Thankfully passion, effort and a sense of humor go a long way towards keeping your sanity.
And as the day draws to a close, all the costumes are put away for the night. I strip down to become the only thing I have energy left to be at the end of the day. Just plain SuperMe.
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