Feeling Big in a Broken World

 

I feel everything a little bigger than other people, or so I'm told. This can be a blessing and a curse, because the joys are super joyful and the sadness is very sad. This past few months has been so wonderful being able to teach a college class. I officially completed my first semester as a professor. All final papers have been graded, and semester grades have been submitted.  I'm also working on the finishing touches for a new book that I'll be publishing in 2026. It's a culmination of the work I did on my thesis almost two decades ago, which never came to completion because I switched to another option to complete my graduate program when I was pregnant with the twins. I'm super proud of that project, and grateful to have been given the opportunity to live out my dream of being a college professor. 

With that comes a look ahead to the spring semester. I was tentatively offered three classes to teach in spring, but due to low enrollment, I'm going to teach either one or two instead. I'm sad because I was excited to teach three (one online and two in-person) but now it looks like I'll have to wait a semester or two for the online option since others in the department have more seniority than I do. But the low enrollment makes me think about the state of our world and how different factors are affecting this next generation of young adults moving forward with their lives. I think it's just an incredibly sad and scary time for a lot of people, and even though the initial news of teaching less classes bummed me out, I'm trying to stay positive and be hopeful that I am assigned two classes - still progress from last semester and movement in the right direction for me. 

Any major change or potential change can affect me emotionally in ways that it might not impact others. So this has been an emotion-filled week with the completion of my first semester as a professor, finishing touches on my book project, news about spring semester, and then also celebrating 15 years of marriage and getting ready for the holidays.

Which is why I'm especially thankful for the small things - like this heart-shaped leaf on my walk while Micah was at basketball practice earlier this week. 

And why I wanted to share these thoughts and encourage you all to enjoy the small moments too. 

Gratitude & Growth

 Thanksgiving, I'm realizing, is a tough month for me. There are great things about November - sometimes we get a cool, breezy day, and it's my twinsies' birthday and we have a day of family and gratitude when we all gather for Thanksgiving. The twins' birthday is one of my favorite days of the year, but it also brings its own heavy emotions. No matter how much time passes, if you create a child with someone, their unwillingness to prioritize those children in the same way that you have for 19+ years is a heavy thing. It's sad, it's unfortunate, it's ugly. Although I could not love those crazy twins more, it hurts that the person who created them with you does not show up for them in the same way (or any way, to be blunt). So that is a weight I carry around for a few weeks, which brings on some feelings and I have to work through those. I've learned (thankfully) better ways to work through them, and new projects to focus on to get me through those harder days. One such project is reviewing and revising my almost-thesis into a potential new publication. A labor of love, a full circle moment (I wrote most of this when I was pregnant with the twins), and something I can be proud of despite the time it took to get to this point. I think that can be a metaphor for a lot of experiences in life.

Thanksgiving is also a time to reflect on all that we are grateful for. I have two enormous pieces of my life that I am incredibly grateful for this year. So I wanted to share those with all of you. First, of course, this beautiful crew of kids that I brought into the world and that make me proud, crazy, full of love, and sometimes full of stress, but they are the heart and soul of me and all that I strive to do in this world. They are my why, forever and always. I'm also grateful that two of my kids (one from each "group" if you will because of the age gap between my two sets of babies) have found a shared passion and something they like to do together. Here's Micah (11) and Lucas (19) in Big Bear a week or so ago, and then, with a full heart, I share my favorite Christmas tradition with all of you - the Santa photo. Third is me and Nicholas - this guy can be prickly, let me tell you. Warmth is not a word I would use to describe him in most settings. He's the calm, rock solid, realistic point of view one in this relationship FOR SURE. But he can also be warm and affectionate when one of us needs that (we just usually have to vocalize that it's what we need because it doesn't come naturally to him). He's authentically himself and he makes no apologies for that (sometimes to my discomfort in group settings, but he is who he is, and I love him for it). He has truly been the best balance to my highs and lows of emotions and feelings and reactions. He's the calm to my storm, no doubt. 

The second piece of my life that I am incredibly grateful for is the opportunity to teach college students in a subject I love, and have an impact on these young adults as they are starting out their journey. These messages came from two of my students this semester, along with a couple verbal messages of "this was my first semester, and you were my favorite professor" and "thank you for making this class interesting and fun" as they walked out the door for our final class meeting last week. I'm looking forward to 45 essays to grade in the next week or two, and just feel so blessed to be here in this spot. It is truly a testament to the power of dreams, the payout for staying the course, and the reward for choosing a life of authenticity, purpose, and passion however that looks for each of us. 

Impossible Expectations & The Invisible Load

 Sometimes I wonder why the hell I chose HR as a career. "Chose" is a strong word for what sort of just evolved from a position in accounting and operations to leading a brand new HR function very early on in my career. But, here I am 20+ years later, still doing HR and also teaching. Two things that are arguably very much like motherhood. 

Stay with me here...I promise there's a point.

On social media, if you follow any "mom" accounts, you've likely seen posts about the "invisible load" or the "default parent" and what comes along with that. Essentially, there is always one parent who becomes the default - whether that's because they are the one that is home (working from home or stay-at-home parent, the details don't matter as much) or the one that will call out sick if a kid needs to be home for any one of the millions of reasons kids (and schools) find for them to be home. This default parent carries an invisible load of responsibilities - from actual tasks, appointments, forms to fill out, parent/teacher communication to respond to, extracurricular chauffeur duties to picking up supplies for those last minute school projects. Those "invisible" responsibilities can feel like they weigh a ton, especially when this default parent is also doing the heavy lifting with household chores, shopping for holidays and birthdays, making sure everyone has clothes and shoes that fit and clean laundry and (somewhat) clean rooms and bathrooms to live in, and food to eat. 

It. Is. Exhausting.

Now, do not get me wrong. My husband does take the boys to their dentist appointments if I'm teaching in Orange County that day. He does take Micah on various adventures. Jaxon does not like to participate in those adventures so even on a day that should be "mine" or a "day off" of mom duties, I often find myself still with one or two kids to worry about. This is not a rant about what my husband does or does not do. I would still argue that I carry about 80% of the emotional load of our kids, plus well over half the "invisible load" duties noted above. If you asked Nick, he'd say that's because I want to, or I like to be involved, or I would ask questions and take over if I wasn't the one doing it anyway. All of that might be true, but what I'm talking about here is the emotional, unseen weight of everyone else's emotions and worries always being on my shoulders. No one else carries those burdens. And again, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying my kids are burdens. I'm saying the invisible load, the stuff you don't see that keeps me up at night anxious and worrying, that's the stuff that's weighing me down on more days than I would care to admit. And that does not stop just because one of my kids is out of the house, and one is an "adult" in every legal sense of the word. They are "baby adults" and still require a lot of my attention and mom worry. 

Which brings me to my point (I think). I read an article today posted by our Chief Strategy Officer at one of my places of employment. And it struck me how similar HR is to motherhood. The article states,

"The concern is the impossible expectations placed on HR as a function. HR is being asked to transform organizations, protect people, guard the brand, interpret data, redesign workflows, deliver speed, and soften every impact for the workforce. No function can do all of that while also serving as the emotional cushion for every uncomfortable moment. The environment is too volatile and the responsibilities are too contradictory."

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/shrm-forcing-reckoning-hr-jessica-kriegel-u9aze/

Holy realization.

I am doing the work at work that I also do at home. If you replace "HR" in the quote above with "Moms" and "organizations or workplaces" with "kids and home) a lot of the same stuff applies. Impossible expectations. Being asked to transform, softening the impact, redesigning, interpreting...I do that shit all the time between a kid and my husband or between two kids. 

"No function can do all of that while also serving as the emotional cushion for every uncomfortable moment."

That could quite literally be the tagline for motherhood - doing all of the things while serving as the emotional cushion. That's me in a nutshell. 

So that leaves me with one question.

How do we do better for moms in our circles? How do we support one another and make the situation a little less impossible? How do we stop setting crushing expectations and making moms feel guilty when they want to go get a pedicure or take a nap or read a book without being interrupted 18 times? 

I have no fucking clue. 

It is what it is, until someone (or a lot of someones) changes it.