I used to think joy and presence were weekend things—reserved for Sunday pancakes or a summer getaway where phones are off and no one’s racing the clock. But the more I leaned into the rhythm of working motherhood, the more I realized: the magic doesn’t live in the big, scheduled moments. It lives in the everyday.
As a beauty marketing executive in New York City and mom to two school-aged kids, my days are full—meetings, drop-offs, launches, lunches (sometimes skipped), spelling quizzes, and bedtime stories. It’s a life I love, but it moves fast. And like many working parents, I’ve felt that pang: Was I present today? Did I see them, really see them? Or just move them from one task to the next?
What’s shifted everything for me is reframing the idea of balance. It’s not about splitting time perfectly between work and family—it’s about recognizing and cherishing the small, intentional moments tucked into every day. The ones that don’t need a vacation or a special occasion. Just a little awareness.
1. Turn Commutes into Connection
The car ride to school used to be a blur. A countdown of red lights and reminders (“Don’t forget your library book!”). Now? It’s our stage. Some mornings, we blast 80s music and take turns DJing. Other days, we play trivia, ask “Would you rather?” questions, or sit in easy silence. No agenda. Just presence.
The tip: Choose one routine moment—school drop-off, brushing teeth, walking the dog—and make it a connection ritual. You’ll be amazed how often joy sneaks in when you’re not chasing it.
2. Share the Plan, Share the Power
Our digital kitchen calendar started as a sanity-saver (no more forgotten gym clothes!), but it’s become something more. At night, we gather around it and preview the next day. It’s quick, but grounding. The kids love seeing their names and feeling part of the plan. I love the tiny window into their growing independence.
The tip: Let your kids help “co-pilot” the week. Even a five-minute preview can turn logistics into a moment of shared ownership.
3. Keep Bedtime Sacred, Not Scripted
Evenings are tricky. There’s always something unfinished—emails, dishes, texts. But I’ve learned to slow down when it counts. We read. Or talk. Or just lie there and guess what the cat is thinking (seriously, this is a nightly event). No pressure to make it perfect—just present.
The tip: Pick one bedtime anchor—a story, a song, a silly game—and protect it. Even five calm minutes can turn a chaotic day into a connected one.
4. Celebrate the Ordinary
Our best family memories aren’t from vacations. They’re from Friday night dance parties, impromptu baking sessions, and trivia games played over half-eaten pasta. The joy comes from dropping into the moment—not waiting for one.
The tip: Find one small, repeatable tradition during the week that’s just for fun. It doesn’t need to be Instagram-worthy. Just yours.
5. Let Them Into Your World
My kids see me working. They see when I’m energized and when I’m overwhelmed. Instead of shielding them from it, I invite them in. I tell them when I’m proud of a campaign. I ask what they’d name a lipstick shade. They know I love what I do—and that loving my work doesn’t take anything away from loving them.
The tip: Let your kids witness your ambition and your effort. It teaches them about passion, persistence, and the reality of grown-up life—with love at the center.
Presence Over Perfection
There are still messy mornings. Still “oops-we’re-late” moments. Still nights when I log back on after bedtime. But I’ve let go of chasing perfect balance. I aim for rhythm instead. I show up when it matters. I laugh when it’s hard. I apologize when I miss the mark. And I try again the next day.
What I’ve learned? Kids notice. Not how many hours you’re home—but whether you see them when you are. Whether you pause. Ask. Listen. Smile. Just for them.
So to every working parent wondering how to “do it all”: you don’t have to. You just have to do you—with intention, with love, and with joy tucked into the margins. Because those little spaces? They’re where the real life—and the real magic—happens.