Mother Knows Best (And You’re the Mother Now)
I’ve held many job titles over the years, but Mom is hands down my favorite and the one I always knew I wanted.
From the first moment I cradled my Cabbage Patch Kid, Barbara Jean, in my arms and dressed her in corduroy overalls, I knew mothering would be in my future, and that I would be phenomenal at it from day one.
As it turns out, I was both right and very, very wrong. I did become a mom, but Cabbage Patch Kid parenting is a lot different than human parenting. Go figure!
Throughout her childhood, Barbara Jean never had a meltdown in the middle of a mall so volatile I had to carry her out of there surfboard-style. Nor did she ever pick up her entire plate of homemade enchiladas and chuck them into the wild blue yonder. Barbara Jean never brought home math homework that hurt my brain, nor did she ever have a run-in with the music teacher over following directions.
My kids have my whole heart, but man…the motherhood learning curve is steep, long, and winding, and there are plenty of times when I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. Barbara Jean prepared me for quiet stroller walks around the neighborhood and nothing else.
Looking back, I’m not sure why I was so surprised at the challenges of motherhood.
My own mother gave me fair warning over the years when recalling stories of my childhood at the dinner table.
I know there were tantrums, tomfoolery, and the time I cut my bangs with craft scissors the day before school pictures. There were plates of cucumber tuna casserole I refused to eat and sassy comments I quickly regretted. And memorably, there was the great orange nail polish meets pink carpet incident of 1996. Each time my kids give me a taste of my own medicine, I feel compelled to call my mother and apologize.
I’ve apologized to my mom a lot over the past several years.
I imagine there will be many more apologies in the future. Because as I’ve come to realize, despite my youthful protests, my mother really did know best when I was a kid. My still-developing frontal cortex may have thought I had it all figured out, but I didn’t.
For example, I now know that hairdressing is a job certainly best left to the professionals. I’ve also found that it is important to try new foods and be respectful of the cook. Also, like my mother recommended, I should pause for a second before speaking to consider the tone of voice I’m about to use. And orange nail polish should definitely be applied at the counter over paper towels, not on my bedroom floor.
My mom had 25 years on me, and in those 25 years, she picked up many life lessons that I should have been very grateful for. I know that now.
Today, I have three decades of experience on my own kids.
With that in mind, I feel confident that, in most cases, I know what’s best for them to help them grow while staying safe and healthy. Looking ahead, I’ll have wisdom to share about broken hearts, being cut from the team, or standing up to peer pressure, even if they doubt my ability to know what they are going through.
Fast forward many more years, and perhaps one day, my children will be calling me to apologize when they are arguing with tiny versions of themselves in a Dunkin’ Donuts, and that will be a hilarious and satisfying day.
If you’ve also made some apology calls to your mom over the years, you and I both have seen the adage “mother knows best” play out in real life.
At the same time, it can be easy to forget that we are mothers now, and we know best for ourselves and our families.
We know what environments feel safe and help us thrive. We know the kind of emotional and financial support our families need. We know our natural personalities and what we’re good at.
Even if you don’t have all the words to describe it perfectly, there is so much you already know about yourself and your loved ones. As you navigate your next moves in your professional life, remember that you know best about what path will work for you—no one else.
As a career coach for parents, I’m here to help guide you toward identifying the career paths and roles that feel most fulfilling, but I’m not here to make those choices for you. Nor is any other coach, boss, spouse, partner, friend, or stranger on the internet.
Dear mother (and yes, that’s YOU), you are the one who knows yourself best.
Bask in the confidence of knowing that what you choose will be in your best interest and the best interest of your family.
Wishing you a year ahead full of belief in your own awesome, a deep acknowledgment of your own self-knowledge, and an unshakable trust in yourself.
Excerpt from When Mommy Grows Up: Finding Career Clarity While Covered in Kids (Coming March 2025)
