Every morning begins with a color-coded calendar and a schedule that blends sports practices, client meetings, IEP appointments, travel, and the demands of being a COO. With five kids, a foreign exchange student, and a husband devoted to coaching, my life looks less like “balance” and more like constant motion.
That’s because work-life balance, as it’s sold to us, is a myth.
The idea that we can be equally present at work and at home creates guilt and burnout. After years of improving processes and leading teams through Lean Six Sigma principles, I can say confidently that no system or algorithm can make this clean or predictable.
My days often involve reviewing a statement of work from a parking lot, taking calls at red lights, or managing teams from therapy waiting rooms. Sometimes I miss a game or milestone because the demands of leadership take priority. And the truth we rarely say out loud is that sometimes our kids are the sacrifice. Real working parenthood isn’t balance; it’s choreography. It’s constant reprioritization, shifting focus, adapting quickly, and teaching your children that commitment often looks imperfect. It’s demonstrating resilience when plans fall apart and rebuilding your day on the fly.
In my professional world, I map processes and eliminate inefficiencies, but family life doesn’t operate on a flowchart. Kids don’t time their needs around meetings, and autism doesn’t wait for your schedule to open up.
So instead of chasing balance, I focus on adaptability. The most sustainable systems, at work or at home, are flexible. That means creating rhythms that bend without breaking, being transparent with my team when my family needs me, and offering them the same flexibility. It means acknowledging that some seasons require more attention at work, while others require more at home, and relying on a support network to catch what inevitably falls through the cracks.
Sometimes adaptability means taking my kids on work trips, even when it feels unpredictable, because both the opportunity and their needs matter. It gives them a front-row seat to what I do and shows my colleagues who I am beyond my title. For every mom juggling calls between school pickups, hiding in the bathroom for five quiet minutes, or lying awake at 2 a.m. trying to solve tomorrow’s logistics — you’re not failing. You’re navigating a system built on constant change, not balance.
The chaos, complexity, and constant recalibration aren’t signs of failure; they’re the reality of working parenthood. We’re not dropping balls, we’re playing a different game with shifting rules and moving targets. When we stop pretending that balance is achievable and start embracing the messy, resilient, real nature of our lives, we can finally release the guilt and see the strength in what we manage every day.
