For me, winning as a working parent means finding the balance between paying the bills and enjoying time with my loved ones. It’s also having a relationship with my kids, my spouse, my extended family, my friends, my community and myself. That said, it often seems like the purpose of the game itself is to somehow find enough time and money to make all of that happen within one lifetime. For an average player like me, there’s simply no way to survive - let alone win - without using a few cheat codes now and then.
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I watched a beautiful video yesterday that asked moms what advice they would give themselves if they could go back in time to right before their first child was born.  The video was a gorgeous montage of varied answers that ranged from “sleep now” to “forgive yourself”.  My personal favorite was a sign that read “you are the expert”.

It got me thinking about other times in my life when I could have used some advice from women who had gone before me: my first day at a new school, the last day I went to college, our first argument after my wedding, that time I thought I could pull off the pixie haircut .  All of these moments could have been made just a little easier with some words of encouragement and wisdom.

Another milestone in my life as a woman, specifically as a working mother, when I could have used a little hand holding was when I went back to work after having my babies.  Ouch.  The heartbreak of dropping them off, the giddiness at having adult conversations during the day, the guilt at enjoying adult conversations and being overly tired at night; I was not prepared for either return to the workforce.

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I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions.  I don’t start a diet or a new work out plan with the rest of America.  I’ve learned that saying I want to be more patient doesn’t actually make me more patient.  I’m not vowing to read more books, eat less red meat, or buy more organic.  It’s as good as it’s gonna get.  Especially in January, when my fingers are practically frozen because my spouse insists that heating the house to 62 degrees is actually heating the house. 

I don’t need resolutions.  Resolutions are like promises, they mean nothing and nobody seems to really care if you break it. 

But solutions?  Solutions I’ll take any time.  If anyone can solve the mystery that is my never-ending laundry problem, I’ll be tap dancing my way into that solution.

This year, I decided to implement one solution.  Just one.  It won’t solve world hunger or fix our economy.  But it makes ending the day and starting the next one so much easier for me. 
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My kids and I are experimenting with a fancy schmancy time management system to help everyone get through their morning and bed time routines.

More on that at a later date.

Today, I come to you for advice and creative ideas.

You see, part of this new fangled time management system involves keeping track of how many days we get it right, so to speak.  This concept of keeping track of good days, accomplishments, etc. is pretty universal.  I’ve heard of it used for everything from chores and school work to attitude and behavior.  One of the key components of these systems is offering your child(ren) some type of reward.

And that’s where I’m stuck.

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If there was a Nobel Prize for multi-tasking, I’m positive a working mother would win every single year.  Hands-down.  We are the ultimate multi-taskers.  We aren’t necessarily naturals at the multi-tasking game, but learn how to do it well to survive.  It is technology that keeps us sane between corporate meetings, volunteering in classrooms, trying to be domestic goddesses and all that other stuff in between.

I am beyond lucky to be a 21st century working mother.  Technology allows me to juggle the demands of my profession while still spending plenty of time with my little guy.  My BlackBerry, laptop, and two dozen Wi-Fi spots around town make it possible to work from home, work from a coffee shop, even work during the carpool ride to home (no,  I’m not driving).

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Working from home without childcare is like rock climbing without safety.  You may be able to do it, but it you fall it’s gonna cost you big time.  I did the working from home without childcare for 1 day a week for three years.  In order to do it, I had to drastically change the way I worked on that day.  Babies and toddlers can be 1000 times more demanding (not be mention impossible to resist) than whatever is going on at work.   

When my son was born, I demanded that I work from home at least one day a week.  Friday was the planned day.  The entire staff knew that I would be working from home and so the volume of issues that I dealt with turned to Monday through Thursday.  I’d make sure conference calls were strategically scheduled during during Sesame Street hour or nap time.  I purposely made my workload more administrative for Fridays.  Status reports on projects, submitting expense reports for reimbursement, catching up on the insane amount of email that I received the rest of the week, sending out meeting requests to my team for the following week. 

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Let me preface this entire post by saying I am not in a hurry to desert, neglect or in any way harm my child.  Seriously.

I love my kids.

Please don’t send me hate mail.

Now that that’s out of the way, when can I leave my oldest son home by himself?

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A tearful morning drop off at daycare is one of the worst ways to start a weekday.  No matter how much fun she looks like she’s having when you pick her up at the end of the day, those 7am screams of abandonment are remarkably convincing.

After two kids, eight years and five various childcare providers, I’ve picked up a few tips to make dropping your kids off at daycare less traumatic for everyone.

Find quality time in your morning routine. The rush and chaos of getting a family dressed, fed and out the door is stressful for everyone and can put your child on edge.  Take a moment to break the tension for both of you and they’ll start the day in a more cooperative mood.  Try sitting down to breakfast together, or turning off the radio and having a chat on the drive to daycare.  (I’m much more likely to find quality time with my daughter in the car after her brother has gone to school.)

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