Confessions of a Working Parent
National Bring Your Child to Work Day (4/28) came and went, and I must admit, it conjured up mixed emotions for me. I imagine today’s remote-first culture largely negates the original sentiment of this holiday. After all, our kids have become a regular fixture on Zoom calls. My son was no exception, especially during remote learning.
But once-upon-a-time, my now high schooler was a regular fixture at my office. The “bring your child to work day” was my security blanket for at least one of those days. As a single parent, I took part in this annual event a little more frequently. In fact, without easy access to emergency back-up care, my wee-one scored frequent flyer points as we commuted to my office: when summer camps didn’t extend long enough, school holidays weren’t work holidays, or workdays extended longer than usual. I was in a pinch, and it was stressful.
My young son, on the other hand, loved the opportunity to go to work. For him, it meant a stop-off at Starbucks for hot cocoa, and my little rule-follower adhered to my ROE. He made my office space his own, using the whiteboard to unleash his imagination and creativity (I’m sure it inspired my own, as only a child can do). Legos adorned my desk. He savored the fancy office snacks, and to this day rates my jobs based on which company had the best ones (the super cool, freshly squeezed juice machine at Edifecs won the heart of my then 4-year-old, beating out Microsoft.)
One CEO opened his door to find a youngster pitching a business idea (teleporting to replace telecommuting – how could this be so hard?!). Another CEO conducted a pirate ceremony, delighting my son’s explorer spirit. Aarrr. And later, when my toddler grew to a teen, he would still on occasion accompany me to the office to sit with product designers to give feedback on their latest feature. While born out of necessity, these more rare visits became a special way for us to bond over the creative work I do everyday.
Looking back, I realize that by exposing the cracks in my own life, I was helping to spotlight a different kind of humanity, signaling to future parents: “This, too, might be you, and it’s fabulous.” For during those moments, my “chief marketing” role took a backseat to “chief mom,” the most important hat I wear, with no exceptions. I am immensely thankful to the colleagues and companies who had my back when needed, the people who embraced my young one, and my challenges as a parent who just needed extra hands.