and somehow find time to keep up on the latest tech. In my house, I’m the head of IT as well as the “cruise director” when it comes to our social lives. I know my girls’ BFFs and make sure our house rarely runs out of toilet paper.
In essence, every new mom is already running a start-up corporation.
Think about all the new things we had to learn and set up after the baby arrived. Each week demanded we master a new skill set. As a new mom, failure was NOT an option. Don’t say you can’t handle HR if you’ve already managed to find a good pediatrician that can always squeeze you in for a reoccurring ear infection, or scored a reliable baby sitter who also cleans up after she serves the kids dinner.
We’ve also figured out how to master budgeting and time management. The worries of a start-up are insignificant hurdles in the face of everything we’ve already learned to do well. Congratulations! As a mom, you’ve already successfully created your first start-up. Being a Mom Boss won’t be much different.
And there’s more good news. This book is full of examples of women who are blazing paths that work with raising kids. While being self-employed isn’t for everyone, it’s an increasingly appealing option. It all felt anecdotal when I started thinking about this book. I knew lots of women in the social media space who started blogs a decade ago to earn a little money and get the creative juices flowing. These blogs turned into media corporations and million-dollar businesses like mine. As I started networking, all different types of Mom Bosses presented themselves. From Etsy shops, to at-home sales representatives, to accountants, I kept meeting inspiring moms working towards their dreams while raising families.
These Mom Bosses don’t have to ask for permission to coach a soccer league, run a Girl Scout troop, or drive to a band practice.
Ladies, it’s time to make your own schedule and your own rules. Is the time right for you?
Maybe you’ve got a burning desire to finally bring an invention to life. Or maybe you want to put your sales acumen to work from home so you don’t have to suffer through one more week of your commute. Maybe you have a child with special needs and simply can’t get into being in an office any more. For all these reasons and a million more, Mom Boss life is beckoning. Get ready for the ride!
Warning: You’ll be head of IT, HR, and maintenance. The buck stops with you. As I’m writing this, I’m sitting on a stressful cash crunch. A few of our accounts are overdue by three months. Collection calls and emails are just part of the job. But here’s the thing: I’m writing and emailing from a ski lodge in New Hampshire. I was able to leave my Brooklyn office for five days to take my daughter to an East Coast alpine championship ski race. No one had to give me permission to take time off.
As I tucked my pint-sized skier into bed the night before the race, she gave me a huge hug and said, “You’re the best mommy ever, thank you so, so, so much for taking me here. My heart is full. I love you, mommy.” Cue the tears. Those moments when you melt, you just know the sacrifices are worth it all. I can be a CEO and I can be a “Ski Mom.” I’m most definitely a Mom Boss.
Mom guilt is real. It’s a force that can be used for good or for evil. Let me explain. “Are you traveling again?” Working moms across the nation have heard this lament when the kiddos see the roller bag out on the bed. What the mom hears is, “Don’t you love me?”
That’s not really what the kids are saying. What they are saying is: how is this trip going to affect me? The trick to avoiding mom guilt is to know in your own mind why you are working and what motivates you to work. From talking to friends and from my own experience, you can tame 80 percent of the guilt if you are working smart and have a clear goal to share.
Don’t be fooled into thinking that 20 percent of the time mom guilt just stinks, and can’t be rationalized away. Work to manage the 80 percent, and then have good friends and family to get you through the 20 percent (and I’ve got a few tips on how to recover after those brutal 90-hour work weeks, or back-to-back business trips that result in bitter spouses and weepy children).
This was the recent chorus that awaited me at the family dinner table. Mr. Momtrends and I were busy mapping out our travel schedules. My girls were used to his travel. As an investment professional, he often traveled to research companies or do marketing presentations. Life went on smoothly when my husband had a business trip. Since he was not the one coordinating kid schedules, not much changed whenhe was on the road. Life was a lot less fun, but the show went on.
Not so much for me.
Turns out, I’m the only one who remembers my older daughter likes honey mustard on her sandwiches and won’t eat ham, while the younger one likes mayonnaise and prefers ham to turkey. I also know that the piano teacher prefers to be paid in cash, not by check, and that we need to order a new chess clock for an upcoming tournament.
The delicious minutiae of
motherhood live in my head.
I left the corporate world for all these reasons. I wanted to be in charge of the details. I wanted my girls to know that they could count on me. I wanted to be the the mom who wouldn’t miss a recital or Greek play at school because of an ogre boss. Now I’m the boss, and I have to make these tough calls and prioritize.
As my business has grown, my husband has picked up a lot of the parenting slack – especially when it comes to business travel. But he has his own style (I can’t touch the smoothie bar he operates in the morning out of our kitchen), and he most certainly isn’t on top of all the child-related things I cover. And he can’t braid hair. Oh, and the outfits, well, let’s just say the girls don’t always look Instagram ready. But he loves them fiercely, has his own rituals, and always gets them to school on time. The mom guilt comes in because he doesn’t do it my way.
Each work trip I make requires not just the travel planning, but also the home planning. This is my major source of mom guilt. I make color-coded calendars, send endless emails, and rely on friends and family to pitch in. Still, the nagging feeling that I’m not doing enough remains.
On my most recent trip, I got on the phone with my eight-year-old. She was quite upset with me. Apparently, no one told her I was heading to Utah to work on our Digital Family Ski Guide. The work trip fell at a horrible time for her. It was right after a trip to New Hampshire with my older daughter. I took time off of work to take daughter #1 to a championship ski race on the East Coast. Chalk one up in the “good mom” category, I thought. Nope. Daughter #2 felt slighted, and then horrified, that as soon as I got back from New Hampshire I re-packed and headed off again.
I made headway with the little one over a few phone calls, and assured her that on the next trip, I would give her ample warning of where I was going, and when it was all happening. Crisis averted.
Until I got the text from my husband from the urgent care facility in Brooklyn: broken toe for the older daughter. Sometimes, you just can’t win.
What you can do, is manage
