Dear Working Mom,

I had a rough weekend.

And I really didn’t see this one coming! Some weekends are a little bit overbooked or some unsavory task is due, and I can guess ahead of time that it’ll feel stressful.

But this one wasn’t overbooked, not at all. And it STILL hit me over the side of the head.

A few really draining conversations with my husband about big decisions that we have coming up, and we’re still not on the same page about.

A lot of yelling from our normally calm toddler… I’d bet money that a tense set of parents contributed to that!

An unexpected realization that we need to change the layout of our second floor to make space for my work and personal time the same way we make space for my husband’s— followed quickly by a sinking feeling of stupidity (and even a bizarre flavor of guilt) that I hadn’t realized sooner.

Oy vey.

On weekends like this, I don’t have it in me to do more than the bare minimum.

And, in its own strange way, this is a beautiful thing. Giving myself permission to do the bare minimum is a beautiful thing. It’s a skill, and it’s taken me a shockingly long time to acknowledge and appreciate that skill! But I see it now, and it’s a gift and a blessing that I want to sing from the mountains and pass along to you, just in case you need it as much as I did.

Probably like many new moms, I used to want everything for baby and home and work done to the highest standards possible.

That. Is. EXHAUSTING. Slowly, I realized I was starting to break away bits of my favorite parts of myself.

There are many things that helped me stop the erosion… but one of them is quite simple, Dear Working Mom, and very effective for me. It saved my butt and my sanity more times than I can count.

So please, my Dear Working Mom, give it a try. The next time you grind to an overwhelmed halt, and realize your inner gas tank is so empty that it might as well not be there, ask yourself a little set of hypothetical questions.

Ask yourself, Dear Working Mom… this thing that is bothering you…

• what would “knocking it out of the park” look like?
• What would “solid” look like?
• What would “acceptable minimum” look like?
• And what would skipping it altogether look like?
• Lastly, which of these ways to do it is a good fit for the requirements of the situation, the meaning it would give to you or loved ones or your team, and the current levels of time/energy/resources that you have available?

This set of questions is so helpful to me, and I hope it helps you too. When I catch myself stressing about Valentine’s cards, or a work deadline, or a massive to-do list facing me on a truly draining weekend, the effect of these questions is magical. They open up options for “solid” and “acceptable minimum” and “altogether skipping” that I LITERALLY DIDN’T SEE BEFORE I asked myself those questions.

So, Dear Working Mom, I hope for 2 things for you:

1. I hope your good weekends outnumber your bad ones, by a long shot.
2. On your bad weekends, my Dear Working Mom, I hope you remember to love and admire yourself as much as I love and admire you. I hope you keep these questions in your back pocket, and use them when you catch yourself going full throttle in every direction with an empty gas tank. “Bare minimum” and “solid” and “altogether skipped” are sometimes a better choice than “knocking it out of the park”. That is a counterintuitive truth about life. So give yourself the options. I don’t know your name, but I know you deserve those options.

All my best,

Wendy