I started R+W as a sort of hobby, a mental stretch activity after a brain injury. I had my one son at home with me, back when we were in St. Louis, and he went to daycare for two or three full days each week. I had a wealth of time (approximately 30 hours to myself) to rest, go to my doctors’ appointments, do my cognitive therapies, focus on diet, hike, create, tidy the house, and fulfill the very few orders I had in the beginning. I had a rhythm and everything felt easy.
Fast forward to today. I have two boys now (SJ is four, Sam will be one at the end of June) and R+W has grown into a full-blown business. A small one (hi, it’s just me), but a business all the same. Unfortunately, while R+W has grown, my dedicated hours have disappeared. SJ goes to nursery school for part of the day, but I have Sam with me full-time, and he’s a handful.
Let’s just say, when you see his chubby little hands in photos, it’s obviously cute, but I’m not holding him in my lap because I love the stinker so much (I do). It’s because that twenty-pound tornado of a child believes it’s his purpose in life to attack everything by either beating it into the ground or chewing it to smithereens. His only goal at this point is to conquer through destruction, and that could be his brother’s Lego towers or the artwork I took hours to create.
Also, he might not walk, but he climbs. He scales the safety gate and laughs. This kid is like a mischievous little monkey.
So, here I am, like any small business owner, trying to get stuff done. We wear so many hats, am I right? Artist, webmaster, social media strategist, copywriter, photographer, bookkeeper and accountant, admin, packer/shipper, supply manager… But I’m also trying to keep this kid alive and from devastating our house. And, on the subject of our house, I’m also the one trying to keep it presentable to the point that we don’t hide behind our couch if the neighbors stop by.
(I want to note, before you make any assumptions, that my husband is amazing and supportive and a great father, but he works full-time himself and is also enrolled in graduate school right now. When he's home and we're all together, we try to emphasize family time.)
All of this to say that sometimes parenthood and running a business feel like two diametrically opposed objectives. If you feel this way, you’re not alone.
You. Are. Not. Alone.
Being a “mompreneur” has become a bit of a cliché these days, and there is this image of women who somehow manage to fit it all in and get it done while we carry our babes around in wraps or on our hips. Our houses are full of gorgeous houseplants we always remember to water, our windows let in beautiful natural light, and we cook amazing meals--all of this on top of creating nonstop!
This is not real life.
And no amount of chanting #HustleHarder or “You’ve got this, mama!” on social media is going to make it easier. If you take everyone at their word, we all seem to be doing so darn well, like it’s easy. But that almost does a disservice to the effort.