A Secret to Success as a Working Mom: Turn Burn Out Into Bliss and Embrace Joy

Last weekend my youngest was committed to going to the "Water Steps" a man-made water fall in Pittsburgh by the rivers. (Fun Fact: Three rivers converge in Pittsburgh--The Ohio River, The Monongahela River, and the Allegheny River.)  He kept asking. I knew he was serious when he said, "If you won't take me, I'll ask daddy!" Given that it was highly unlikely that would happen on an unscheduled day, I relented.

So, we went.

It wasn’t planned in the way most things in my life are. No calendar block. No checklist. No “productive” purpose attached. And, so in some respects it was uncomfortable. And yet, it seemed necessary. It was the idea of my 8-year-old—offered with the kind of urgency only children possess when something is profoundly important to them.

My 12-year-old came with us because I promised him something in return. We have a very transactional household... He wanted to play basketball at the playground. However, he isn't allowed to go alone for an extended period of time. And, since I haven't figured out how to clone myself, the compromise was--come with us to the water steps and we'll all swing by the playground on the way back. 

We had a deal!  

The joy my 8-year-old experienced was immediate upon seeing the Water Steps. It was like he realized that he had earned an important victory. And, his joy was as overflowing as the water.

He began removing his shirt as he walked. Somehow his shoes came off while he was still walking. And, the next thing I knew he was in the water splashing and looking as happy as I have ever seen him!

Within minutes, he was everywhere at once—jumping from step to step, laughing loudly, calling out to strangers. And, much to my chagrin, he even put his head under the water before I put a stop to it. I'm all about children having a little freedom. But as a germaphobe, I was MORTIFIED!!!  He could have cared less. 

From Burnout to Bliss: A Working Mom’s Unexpected Joy at the Water Steps

This was his moment. And, it was joy personified.

While he was being joyful, I was baking. The sun was bright. It was like the clouds parted just as we arrived and the rays were relentless. So, I did what I needed to do to beat the heat. In a word, I did what thee Romans were doing, removed my shoes, and got in. 

Unlike my son, there was no splashing. I stood in the water, still, praying that I wasn't knocked over by an exuberant child. Just being in ankle deep did the job though. First, the coolness hit my ankles. Then, it permeated my entire body until I was completely comfortable. Then, the twelve year old got in too. And he enjoyed it. Sometimes small changes can work miracles.

And, I paused. I write about work/life balance. Yet sometimes I forget to live it.

Something about the joy of my youngest and the others, my older son enjoying himself, and me having a break from the madness made me profoundly grateful.

I was grateful that I had survived events that have broken other people. I was grateful that my kids were healthy and strong. I was grateful that I could feed my kids, pay my mortgage, and otherwise make ends meet. I was grateful to have the strength and peace of mind to be able to take my kids to the water steps. In a word, I was grateful for my life and that moment. 

The laughing, splashing, and excitement of my youngest. It was like he was becoming himself out loud, in real time.

The relaxing of my older son who allowed himself to enjoy the moment, even though he wanted to go somewhere else. It was that tug of war between the Water Steps and the basketball court that highlighted where he is in his life--between childhood and his teen years. And yet, he can enjoy both.  

The pleasures of the outdoors and motherhood.  

Being a working mom is often described as busy, exhausting, overwhelming. Indeed, my writing and speaking careers have highlighted that. 

And yet, there are times when I am smart enough to listen to an 8-year-old and I get something else--joy. and fun.  

This time I got laughter, connection without effort, and a moment that was simply to be enjoyed.  

And, yes, we made it to the playground. My twelve year old made it there ahead of us on his bike--exercising a bit of independence. And, he impressed the older boys on the court who thought, "he had game".

When I got home, I smiled again because both of them got what they wanted. And, so did I.

The Lesson

Joy doesn’t always arrive in grand moments.

Sometimes, it shows up in shallow steps of water…
in a spontaneous yes…
in the freedom of a child who hasn’t yet learned to hold himself back.

Sometimes, joy is as simple as letting the water cool your ankles
—and realizing, in that moment, that it has soothed your soul.