The great thing about the Pandemic and the associated lock down: no colds. The bad thing about integrating back into normalcy: colds.
Last week runny noses ran through the family. For the oldest three, there was a dose of cough syrup, plenty of water, and earlier bed times. Easy.
For the babies, there was cough syrup, booger suction sessions, fussing all night long, more booger suction, more fussing, and two tired parents. Hard. Add on diaper rash and teething. Really hard.
There were times during the never ending day last week, as I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and sharpened my vision into alertness, when I wondered if I could do it. Not do it all. Just do it. Do a job. Be a decent mom. Get by.
Sick week seemed like a timely anchor to the career conversations I had at work the week before.
I've set a personal goal to be at the upper echelons of corporate America. And my company said they would help me get there. On paper it seems thrilling, exciting, and easy to sign up for. But as you start identifying what it will take to climb the next couple rungs of the ladder, there comes some significant personal and professional debate.
Broadly speaking, there will be a shift in the work I do and how I do it. There will be more travel and most likely a domestic or international move. Or two. Or three. While there might be reward, it will be countered with risk and sacrifice.
To really understand the expectations and adjustments associated with taking on more, my boss coached me to reach out to the women in the aspirational positions I want to attain someday. All with kids. All with calculated and conflicted choices they've made.
To date, I've had at least four candid conversations. All very helpful. All eye opening. The context isn't easy to swallow; I'm still chewing on it, but it's there. I've heard ...
... that I might have to put family second - career first.
... that it's really hard to leave family behind, especially the support of a mother. That was the hardest decision.
... that I might need to go down to a one-income household.
... that it's easier to move kids when they are younger.
... that it's easier to move kids when they are a little older.
... that there could be nannies not a nanny.
... that I might not be there for all the recitals.
... but to think more of the adventure ahead than what you are leaving behind. That a marriage could be stronger because it can withstand the test of mobility. That kids could be more resilient with a more worldly resume. And that finances could be more secure.
I've found myself thinking about these conversations and the pending decision I need to make as I cheered on Mary and Margaret at their recitals this past week.
As I watched Bobby hit off the tee.
As I watched Mary race in her first swim meet, Margaret hit her first tennis balls, and Bobby hit his first coach pitch.
As I walked the babies around the neighborhood after dinner and took them swimming for the first time. As I cooked dinner for an appreciative husband. And I wondered if all that my mentors said would be true for me? And if not all, what would apply? Or could I just write my own narrative? Could I pave a new path for the next generation?
My next piece of advice was to map out my personal values - the non-negotiables that I won't sacrifice. That's what I'm doing now. Number one: family will always come first.
The other thing someone said to me was that as I debate and deliberate and ultimately decide, there are others watching and learning from me. I'm more aware of that now.
As I closed out the week, I was texting a colleague to send me some research. She was delayed in getting back to me, and apologized. 'Sorry, I was dealing with sick kids.' She got me what I needed a couple minutes later and it was spot on. Better than what I had asked for.
I told her I knew the struggle all too well. I had been there earlier in the week. Earlier in life. And that it was absolutely no problem. Because the best advice I can give to up and coming working moms out there is that it's no problem to put family first.
