Sometimes it's the simple stuff that provides satisfaction (and bragging rights).

One year when the kids were little, we reported in our Christmas letter that each member of the family had worn clean underwear every day of the year. It felt like one of our biggest, and maybe most meaningful, accomplishments ;) I used that data point to convince myself that we were one of those really “together” families.

But then my husband, always intent on self improvement, told me he thought we ought to raise the bar for the next year. As the person in charge of laundry at our house, he thought I ought to commit myself to providing clothes that were not only clean, but dry too. (So maybe his underwear had been a little “damp” some mornings, but it was clean! And that seemed like the most important part to me.)

As working parents, sometimes all we can do is laugh and play the hand we're dealt. (Or in the case wear the clothes in the dryer - ready or not.)  At least that's what I told him on some of those days our clothes finished drying while we were on our way to work :)

Epilogue:
Years later, my son joined the junior high track team. During one of his meets he was running in a really strange manner. On the drive home, I asked him about it, and here's what he said, "You told me I should never wear dirty socks, so this was the first time I ever ran without socks."  The thing was, I was on top of the laundry! I was sure of it. That night I found about 12 pairs of dirty socks in a pile in the back of his closet. "I can't wash them if you don't throw them down the laundry chute!" I told him. As I said, sometimes all you can do is laugh.

​Work and Life: Inseparable From the Start

Copied with permission from the Preface to the book Running for Office, Getting yourself elected to the career you really want by Mary Anne Gale with Shelley Cowan

I graduated from Michigan State University in 1971, and moved to Washington D.C., where I found a job working for the U.S. Selective Service. This was a period in American history when the country was still torn apart by the war in Vietnam. The President had decided to end mandatory service in favor of an all-volunteer military; the Selective Service, an independent federal agency within the executive branch of the U.S. government, was responsible for implementing the change. I was hired to serve as a youth advisor liaison, helping the states and the federal government hammer out the details of the new system. I reported to the agency director, who reported to President Nixon. It was an exciting time, an exiting job, and I felt like I was making a contribution.

Pointer to The Chic Site by Rachel Hollis

Read the BREAKFAST SHORT CUTS.

Submitted by Kathy Haselmaier

It didn't take long to figure out that an "I forgot my lunch" call from one of the kids created a huge logistical challenge when both parents are working. So we devised a plan.

Continued from Work and Life: Inseparable

Twelve years and three children later, I had served in a number of business and technical roles at the Cheboygan plant. My mangers told me that, if I wanted to continue with P&G and reach my goal of becoming a plant manager, I would have to accept a position in another location.

But relocation posed a significant problem for my marriage. By 1985, Bob [my husband] had left teaching for a career in real estate; we owned properties throughout northern Michigan. He would have to sell everything and start over, which wasn't practical. He didn't want to give up his career any more than I wanted to give up mine. Having already been married for a number of years, Bob and I had a strong relationship. We respected each other's professional aspirations; we also knew how much work it took to balance our careers with our desires for a strong, connected family. After much deliberation, we agreed to try a dual-location marriage. 

Submitted by Jim Haselmaier

My wife and I had careers that involved a lot of interaction with people who live outside the US. At one point, my wife was leading a team that included five employees in Mexico and one in India, and she invited them to come to Colorado, where we live, to do some strategic planning. While they were here, we invited them over for dinner. She turned the evening into a "team building activity" by having everyone prepare dinner as a group - featuring foods from Mexico and India. (Since she doesn't cook, and I was busy, I appreciated her creativity in terms of getting food on the table!)

By Bo and Sharron Viger

Copied with permission from the Preface to the book Running for Office, Getting yourself elected to the career you really want by Mary Anne Gale with Shelley Cowan

Continued from Making Tough Choices

Throughout my thirty-five years at P&G, I shared the insights and experiences I gathered as my career progressed. I mentored, advised, and befriended thousands of my P&G colleagues, helping them determine what roles to go after, how to go after them, and what to do when things weren't working. During my years in China, I began to share my views with people in global corporations, government agencies, and academic institutions throughout Asia.

In explaining how I managed to build the career I wanted for myself, I always stressed that career satisfaction and success were inseparable from the rest of my life. This was true from my earliest moves: from Washington back to Lansing, to northern Michigan, and then to a dual location marriage. IT was true throughout my career. 

​Sheryl Sandberg describes careers as climbing jungle gyms instead of proverbial ladders. I resemble that description. When I set off to start a career at 22, I thought the end game must be that big shiny office with a mahogany desk and some fancy artwork on the walls. Being in Corporate America had to mean we all wanted to become that VP, Senior VP, or hell … why not the CEO? Right?

At 27 I was told that I had the characteristics to become a VP and was offered my first management role. "Yay for me," I thought. I was on that track to get the shiny office someday. It sounded fantastic until life happened a few months later. I was a newlywed, building a new home, and found out that I was pregnant. I was beating myself up by spending 12+ hours/day in the office, and I had a one-hour commute each way in addition to that. I was working hard to make sure my team was the top producing team. I had to repeatedly prove myself, especially since all my peer leaders were men. When I learned I was pregnant, I couldn't imagine taking more than six weeks off after my baby was born. The company and my team needed me. "The team will collapse without me," I thought. Calgon take me away!

​A funny thing happened after I fell in love with my wife, Linda, while we were both attending Michigan State University: 7 kids, 31 years at HP Inc in various global roles, Linda's day care, volunteering, work at Colorado State University... whew!

We married and then moved away from our families in Michigan to pursue my career at Hewlett-Packard in Colorado. That was back in 1985, so our journey as a couple and as a family has been one of self-reliance from the beginning. It's been an always evolving partnership as our lives unfolded.

Early in our marriage, the stress of it all was a challenge at times. There were deadlines, new jobs, finances, and a young family. It was a challenge to find energy for each other, and I could sense that I wasn't as intuitively grounded as I wanted to be. So i decided I needed to create an explicit framework for myself. I needed to write down not only "what" I wanted to stand for and pursue, but "how" I would hold myself accountable and recognize progress. (Yes, I'm a bit goal-driven.) While this was designed to help me get my personal 'act together', I shared it with Linda during one of our weekly "dates".