Part 1: Confessions of a WDAdvertising Mom
6:30 am. Wake up. Wait. What time is it? Curly hair, it is. Pull two girls out of bed and move things along, like a boss.
Get dressed. Brush teeth. Wash face. Clothes on. Don’t you dare lie back down. Hair styled. Breakfast. Wait… what do you have to bring to school? Lunches packed. I’m dressed. Same color shoes? Check. Workout bag. Packed. Make sure girls have shoes on. With socks. Matching socks, please. Backpacks in hand. Laptop bag and purse. Out the door. In the car. Stop fighting. Just don’t talk. School drop off. Hugs. Kisses. Love you.
8:00 am. Phew, and the day begins.
I have two beautiful daughters, a dedicated support system and a fulfilling career in this fast-paced – and unpredictable – world of advertising. On a good day, I own this working mom thing. But many days I find myself juggling professional status and #momproblems. While standing on one leg. Eyes wide shut and mouth gaping.
Work and kids aren’t always separate, or equal, but it’s what makes me tick. As a perfectionist at heart, I’m human at best. Follow me as I give you a behind-the-scenes look into my version of the work/life balance.
Blog 1: Cheez-It-geddon
Recently, there has been a string of Texas snow days. If you’re a native of this superior state, you’re well aware of its kryptonite. One flurry and its snow-mageddon. And, like most kids, on one of these rare snow days, my sweet darlings shed tears of joy, basked in the glory of an early dismissal and reveled in the beauty winter can bring.
I, on the other hand, still had a 2:00 conference call. All childcare options (a.k.a. best. grandparents. ever) were snowed in. Dad was still at work. After an hour and a half drive from the office (20 minutes any other day) and an hour-long early school pick-up ordeal, I convinced the girls we’d play in the snow later and got them settled in front of the playstation…snacks in hand — neither one educational nor organic. Don’t judge.
2:00 arrived and I’m suddenly unable to manage a WebEx login. I HATE being late. Have I mentioned that I’m starting to dislike snow?
I manage to call in but I’m minus a visual, which figures right about now… Luckily, I’m not the only one lagging behind. Finally I see a deck and familiar voices soon follow. All is right in my virtual conference room, until the dreaded and inevitable reality check bellows from the next room… “Momma!”.
These children have no concept of what it means to be on a conference call… nor do they care who is indexing highest as a primary shopper in MRI. They do, however, care greatly about all that is holy about Disney Infinity and the sanctity of their loosely constructed ground rules. Currently, someone is in violation of said rules.
Skip ahead and I’m still on a call, standing in the living room, giving the dreaded mom stare. My oldest has tipped a brand new box of Cheez-Its® in such a way that a steady stream of these coveted snacks is pouring into a cheese-covered mountain on the floor. And, although I’m there, using my best version of a mom rant via sign language, all that this perfectly capable child can muster up is “Uh-Oh.” Remember when your toddler would spill, say uh-oh and continue to watch it unfold? Yep… my 9-year-old still does that. The 6-year-old is crying about video game injustice. The dog has decided to loot the cheese mountain and I have just been asked to provide rationale behind my initiative to change targeting strategies.
Wait. You just broke up a little. Can you repeat that?
I quickly become re-focused and manage the remainder of the call, mostly un-interrupted. The exception is a text from my husband, letting me know he is making his way home and “Do I need anything from the store?”.
It takes a village for me to manage my career and my children. My village was snowed in that day. It’s times like those that make me truly appreciate the amazing support system I have. I’ve got the best of both worlds: a job I love, an agency I believe in and a family that cheers me on. It’s not easy, but there is never a dull moment.
And no joke, seven days later and that day revisits me in the form of a little orange hill hidden underneath my couch. Yep. Never a dull moment. Those glorious snacks will always have a special place in this household. Makes me wonder if they need an agency. Call me.