Ninety days. That’s how long I’ve added mom to the pile of hats on my head.
Over the past 90 days, I’ve asked myself and plenty of other moms more questions than I can count.
What’s the best bedtime routine? Is she supposed to cry this much? Does this look normal?
But the biggest question of all is the one that seems to unite every working mom I know:
How do you do it all?
I’ve asked it out loud. I’ve asked it silently while driving to work, while rocking my daughter to sleep, and while trying to answer emails with one hand and hold a bottle in the other.
The answer is surprisingly simple, even if it’s not what any of us wants to hear:
You don’t.
Behind the scenes, we’re all asking ourselves the same questions.
Do I stay late to meet my career goals, or do I go home so I don’t miss bedtime?
Do I chase the promotion, or do I chase every milestone?
I thought those choices meant I had to choose one version of myself over another. But I am realizing that’s far from the truth. I don’t have to be everything all at the same time.
We spend so much time chasing the idea of “having it all” that we rarely stop to ask what “all” actually means. I’ve started to believe that having it all isn’t about doing it all. It’s about choosing, over and over again, what matters most in each moment and giving ourselves the grace to accept that we won’t always get it right.
Ninety days into motherhood, I’ve realized that “How do you do it all?” is the wrong question entirely. None of us do it all.
Instead, we make dozens of small decisions every day about what matters most in that moment. Some days our careers need more of us. Other days our families do. Neither choice defines us.
I don’t want my daughter to grow up believing she has to choose between loving her family and pursuing her dreams. I want her to know she can be compassionate and ambitious. Hardworking and nurturing. A devoted mother, if she chooses, and deeply driven and fulfilled in her career.
One day, she may ask me how I balanced work and motherhood. I hope she never thinks I did it perfectly, and I hope she never thinks I did it alone.
I hope she knows I stood on the shoulders of countless women who walked this road before me. Women who shared their wisdom, offered encouragement, and reminded me that none of us are meant to do this by ourselves. I pray she grows up surrounded by women who will do the same for her.
I hope she knows I loved my work and loved my family. I hope she understands that balance was never about giving everything equal attention every single day. It was about learning to give the right things my attention in the moments that mattered most.
Because my goal won’t ever be to do it all.
But as a leader, it will always be to work hard, love well, show up, and give myself grace for the rest.
Julia Kimbrell Brooks For the Messenger-Inquirer