The last day of school hit our house like emotional whiplash.
On one hand: slower mornings. No packed lunches (praise be). Pool days, summer memories, and the freedom to actually be home with my girls.
On the other hand, and yes, this part deserves all caps... HOW am I supposed to keep momentum on the things I've worked so hard to build when three tiny humans need a snack every fourteen seconds and a ride in three different directions all summer long?
Picture it. We're at the pool. The kids are having the time of their lives. I've got a bevy in one hand and my laptop open, clearing notifications. Someone has sunscreen in their eyes. Wet towels are flailing. Somebody is yelling "mom" on a five second loop. It feels like a sitcom. It is not a sitcom. It is my actual life.
And I refuse to believe I'm the only one feeling this.
Both feelings are real. That's the hard part.
A lot of ambitious women quietly carry guilt when two feelings show up at the same time.
I'm not talking about the guilt of building something you literally can't step away from. I mean the other kind. The kind where you're genuinely excited about what you're building and genuinely want to be present with your kids, and there's this inner tug of war asking how both could possibly be true.
They can. But first we need to talk about why it feels like they can't.
The internet sold us two extremes.
Motherhood online is hyper polarized right now.
On one end, you've got barefoot in the grass, sourdough starter, homeschool, homemaking. (Love that for them.) On the other end, it's boss babe grind, no sleep till Q4.
There's not a lot of in between. Which is wild, because the in between is where most of us actually live.
The in between is answering emails from a pool chair. It's the coffee you've reheated four times (or in my case, dumped more ice into) because you keep setting it down and forgetting where. It's building a business between snack requests from children who apparently grow a second and third stomach the minute school lets out. It's trying to stay hydrated, move your body, and remain emotionally regulated in the middle of all of it.
That's the messy middle. And almost nobody is posting it.
So when the only two pictures you ever see are opposites, of course you start to believe ambition and presence are opposites too.
They're not opposites
Being grateful for your kids doesn't erase the parts of you that still want to build, create, grow, and pursue purpose outside your home.
I can love being a mom and still crave momentum.
I can want quiet and still miss the structure of the school year.
I can want to feel deeply connected to my family and still be desperate for one uninterrupted thought.
You can love summer and feel totally overwhelmed by the chaos. You can cherish your kids and crave stillness. You can want slow mornings and still chase big things.
You don't have to choose one or the other.
And you can ask for help when you need it. That isn't weakness. That's community. That's relationship. That's the whole ethos of everything I talk about.
Remember why you built it
When I was in corporate, that season gave me a lot. I'm grateful for it. But the thing that feels most different about this season is the freedom. Time freedom, location freedom, schedule freedom.
That freedom costs me in other ways, don't get me wrong. But it was the whole point. I built this so I could be home with my kids in the summer. So I could do drop off and pickup. So I could volunteer and actually show up for the things.
And having that freedom doesn't mean I have to sacrifice what I'm building, either. The goal was never work over motherhood, or motherhood over work. The goal is a life that feels rich in every area, not just one.
Six years ago I saw one of those steering wheel desks for the first time and thought, who on earth needs that? Me. I need that. Pickup lines. Sports practice. Rehearsals. Voice notes from the parking lot. Calls on the drive between activities. That's the work happening in the pockets. That's bringing my kids along for the ride.
This is what modern motherhood actually looks like for so many of us. It's up to us whether we experience it as a burden or a gift.
They're watching (and that's a good thing)
I have three daughters. Volume and emotions run high in the Westfall household.
But one of the coolest parts of this season has been letting them watch me build in real time. The wins. The absolute disasters. Everything in between. Not some cookie cutter, look-at-my-perfect-life version. Real life.
And listen, they pick up on so much in the tiny pockets we assume they're not paying attention. The creativity. The ambition. The problem solving. Helping people. Resilience.
So heading into summer, I'm challenging myself to make a reframe: me working while my kids are home is not a burden, and it isn't stealing from being present. It's a gift. They get to see what it takes, and what it gives.
I don't want my girls growing up thinking they have to choose one or the other. I want them to know they have optionality. Every path comes with its own sacrifices, its own hard decisions. But the gift of getting to choose? What a time to be alive.
Redefine what winning looks like this season
Maybe summer just requires a different kind of success. Here's what that looks like in our house.
Fill their cups first. Years ago, my best friend and Collab Culture business partner, Stephanie, told me she prioritizes the front end of the day with her kids over the summer so they feel satiated and seen. (If you've got teenagers who sleep till noon, take what you need and leave what you don't.) With a middle schooler, a fourth grader, and a first grader, that means I shift my work later. More evenings. A more unconventional schedule.
Batch the big stuff. When one of my kids has a full day play date or plans away, that becomes my day to stack in person meetings and anything that needs my full brain. During the school year I can spread those out. In the summer, I consolidate.
Build the back end. This summer I'm focusing on the work that fits in pockets but buys my time back later: deeper build outs in Notion, training Claude, systems that will let me actually breathe when fall turns into a full sprint of sports and extracurriculars.
Lower the bar on purpose. If my kids are hydrated, emotionally stable, and physically active this summer, we are calling it a win. I don't want (and honestly, can't afford) to have them in a camp every single day. Sometimes just being present is enough.
Success this season doesn't have to mean maximum productivity, a perfectly optimized schedule, or crushing every business goal. Maybe it just means keeping enough momentum to feel the needle moving while you make memories, hold your boundaries, and show up with confidence in both places.
You don't have to choose
Building a life you love was never supposed to require you to abandon yourself or your family in the process.
So to the mom building a business during nap time. To the mom answering emails from the pool chair, or between shuttling kids from one place to the next. To everyone figuring it out in real time and letting ourselves mess up, because we're human and that's okay. To everyone trying to build a life that's rich both personally and professionally: I see you. You are my people.
For a long time, I didn't get to be home with my kids in the summer. It is not lost on me what a gift this is.
So maybe the goal isn't choosing between your ambition and your presence. Maybe it's learning to hold both with a little more grace.
You can do that. I promise.
Want the full conversation? Listen to this episode of The Table Podcast wherever you get your podcasts. And if this one hit home, I want to hear how you're holding both right now. Reply to The Weekly Pour or slide into my DMs. Grab your bevy, and let's talk.
