…makes you stronger. Or actually as I read last week, “What doesn’t kill you makes you a mother.”
My mommy guilt (a new addition to my guilt toolbox) set in after writing It’s Horrible. While I stand by every word, I thought I’d counterbalance it with some motherhood learnings that are already translating into my professional life. Just wait until I get back to work.
1. Sleep + Attitude + Systems: Call this my ultimate parenthood framework.
The three things you need to get you through the day:
- Sleep: as much as you can to minimally function.
- Attitude: leave the pity party for someone else, baby don’t care. As my sister has told me on more than one occasion, “M, pull up your mommie panties.”
- Systems: anything that’s worked at least or only once will count. You’re agile; you’re lean. It may never work again, but you are trying. Failure is the key to success!
The important thing here, you can survive the day if there’s a leak in one element. Not two. If you are leaky in two, the Titanic will sink.
2. I can do your job any time, any day, any where.
My husband coaxed me into meeting him downtown for lunch. I arrived at noon (baby’s choice, not mine). Donning my “nice” Lulu lemon pants and the aircraft-carrier stroller, I felt my self-confidence flicker among all the suits and button-down shirts. As I battled my way through the food court, I started to find my fire. “I’ve dealt with this newborn all morning you mother-effers. I’d rule your job.”
Suddenly, all things dealing with work seem a hell of a lot easier. Which brings me to…
3. Do your job.
You signed up for the job, now do it. Baby don’t care if you have a Ph.D./JD/MBA/MFA/CFA, are the boss/were the boss/are your own boss, are a rebel/need growth opportunities/feel underachieved. It’s 3am and baby is hungry. Move your ass. You thought you were “special’? Baby doesn’t think you are special.
4. Columbo meets Mary Poppins meets MacGyver = me.
Baby melting down in the living room. Columbo surveys the area. Nothing found. He thinks through the day – she ate, she slept…she didn’t poop. Gas. In floats Mary Poppins, “tummy time!” Baby on the floor with multicolored distraction objects. Only thing, baby hates tummy time. Melting down again…until wait, MacGyver grabs the breast feeding pillow and flings it onto the floor. “Modified tummy time”! And there it is, a fart.
All day long.
(This post was written with a sleeping, gassy infant on my lap.)