When people find out I spent 25 years at Nordstrom — starting as a cashier and eventually running a $2 billion business as executive vice president — they usually want to know how I “balanced it all” while raising three kids. I always give the same answer: I didn’t. There is no balance when you have young kids and a demanding job. There’s survival mode while you invest in the future. It’s less like a yoga class and more like boot camp — the kind where you surprise yourself by what you can actually get done.
I’ve come to believe the whole idea of “balance” sets working moms up to feel like they’re failing at a game that was never winnable in the first place. What actually got my family through those years wasn’t balance. It was systems — small, boring, repeatable systems that ran in the background so I didn’t have to rely on memory or willpower at 6:45 a.m.
None of this required perfection. It required deciding in advance how things were going to work so I wasn’t negotiating with chaos every single morning. Here are the seven that mattered most in our family.
1. Put it on the calendar — especially the stuff that’s just for you.
I used to tell people, “If you want to know what I’m doing next Tuesday at 3 p.m., I’ll show you my calendar.” That included meetings and school pickups, but it also included my workouts, and I want to be specific about why: If something that’s supposedly a priority for you isn’t actually on the calendar, it isn’t a priority. It’s a hope. Work meetings get calendared automatically because someone else is holding you accountable to them. Nobody is doing that for your run, your therapy appointment or your twenty minutes of quiet before the house wakes up, so you have to do it for yourself, with the same seriousness you’d give an 8 a.m. with your boss. If it’s not on the calendar as a real, named block of time, it will lose to whatever’s loudest that day, every time.
2. Create one home for everything you grab daily.
Coats, shoes, backpacks, lunch bags, practice gear — give each category one specific, easy-to-reach spot. I picked up my favorite version of this from a friend with five kids: a big shared sock drawer by the front door, stocked with white socks in a range of sizes. Nobody needed the “right” pair. They needed a pair, fast, on the way out the door. I rotated the same drawer seasonally — mittens and hats in winter, sunscreen and sunglasses in summer.
3. Keep a project drawer stocked before you need it.
School projects always land at the worst possible time. Keep glue, markers, poster board and basic supplies in one drawer so a last-minute assignment doesn’t turn into a 9 p.m. scramble for a glue stick.
4. Don’t start what you don’t intend to continue.
Another parent passed on this piece of advice that changed our bedtime routine completely. With three kids, our early instinct was to give each of them individual, undivided bedtime attention, which in practice meant an hour-long routine with multiple stories read separately to each child, every single night. It felt generous for about a week and then became a nightly hour none of us could actually sustain. We swapped it for one shared story together, followed by independent quiet reading time on their own. It gave everyone real attention without becoming a commitment we’d eventually resent or quietly abandon.
5. Build your backup network before you need it, and make it a real, explicit agreement.
At some point, someone will need to grab a sick kid from school, cover a practice pickup or step in when a meeting runs long. The mistake most of us make is treating this as a vague safety net instead of an actual plan. Here’s what worked for me: Pick one or two other parents whose reliability you trust, and have the direct conversation up front — not in the panicked moment you actually need them. Say plainly, “Can I put you down as my backup for school pickup, and can I be yours?” Trade phone numbers specifically for this purpose, tell the school or daycare both names are authorized for pickup, and agree on how you’ll handle the ask itself — a group text, a shared note, whatever’s fastest under pressure. Then return the favor without being asked twice. The arrangement holds because it’s reciprocal and specific, not because you’re both generally nice people who’d probably help in an emergency.
6. Give yourself five minutes before the day claims you.
I’m a believer in starting the day on your toes, ready for action, rather than on your heels, reacting to chaos. That can be five minutes of quiet breathing, ending your shower with cold water or reading one page of something that centers you. It doesn’t need to be elaborate, it just needs to happen before the day starts making decisions for you. Without fail, the mornings I skipped it were the mornings that felt the most out of control.
7. Remember: This is a season, not a life sentence.
When my kids were babies, a friend with older kids told me something I still repeat: “You’ll come out of this in eight to ten weeks and think, that was tough, but it’s over.” That’s true at every stage of parenting. The guilt, the exhaustion, the mismatched shoes at a client meeting — all of it is real, and none of it is permanent. Every working parent feels this way sometimes. Your kids benefit from watching you work hard at things that matter. And quality time, consistently shown up for, matters more than quantity.
There’s no universal blueprint here. What worked in my house might look completely different in yours. But here’s what I know for sure: Balance was never the goal. Systems were. Build the ones that get you and your family through this season, adjust them when they stop working and let go of the guilt on the mornings it falls apart anyway. That’s not failure. That’s just Tuesday.






