To me, all moms are working moms. Whether you are working by cleaning your home, schlepping little mouthy creatures around to various after-school activities during the 4-5pm “witching hour,” working in an office- we are all working moms.

Today, I’m talking directly to one type of working mom- the mom with a job that pays money (as far as I know, I have never been paid for any of my hardest work- my mom work). Right now, I am preparing to present at a national conference on suicide prevention. I’m happily citing research articles and adding statistical analyses into a power point (insert picture of me pushing my pair of “comfy” glasses further up my nose as I revel in my nerdiness), when out of the corner of my eye, I see my written “to do” list that I have forgotten to review this morning: 1) buy mermaid slime, 2) finish presentation, 3) buy toilet paper, and 4) see psychotherapy patients.

Panic ensues: I forgot to buy mermaid slime for my daughter’s mermaid focused birthday party at the donut shop. (Because when I think of mermaids, I think donut shop…).

I respond my immediately hitting “save” on the presentation and hurriedly logging onto amazon to find and rush order mermaid slime for my daughter’s birthday’s gift bags. Life slams to a halt as I frantically rush order mermaid slime- the calculation of effect sizes will have to wait. Meanwhile, thoughts ping through my head of “What a bad mom” and “She will be so upset you forgot this- she’ll be talking about it in therapy for years to come!”

As you can tell, at times, I am much better at helping people recognize their own maladaptive thought processes than I am at recognizing that having a panic attack over a lack of mermaid slime in my life might not be the most well-adjusted and logical reaction- but I digress…

Finally, I find the most beautiful glitter-filled mermaid slime that is destined to be ground into my living room carpet or have to be removed surgically from my boxer puppy’s stomach after he eats it when I’m not looking. I feel an insane amount of relief as I spend more money than should be allowed to rush order the slime. I turn my attention back to me presentation...but wait, did I just freak out about ordering over-priced slime while working on a presentation about suicide prevention interventions for youth?

Why yes, yes I did. The clinician in me says “Alrighty, Kristin, time to put those therapy worksheets to good use on yourself,” while the researcher in me says, “I wonder if anyone has ever evaluated the change in cortisol levels in mothers immediately before, during, and after their child’s birthday party..” And the mother in me says, “Thank God I found that stupid slime before I started driving all over hell’s half acre looking for that crap.”

This series of events has started me thinking: how many other moms have a lot of their self-identity tied to being the “perfect” mom? Because based on my actions and thoughts, I apparently think that you are not a good mom unless you have secured the timely arrival of unicorn slime for a mermaid themed birthday party…

As a working mom, and again (we are all working moms, whether we earn a paycheck or not), I know that despite valuing my career and profession, my fears and worries center around being a “perfect” mom for my child- which leads to a direct impact on my self-worth when I “fail” by forgetting freaking unicorn slime.

So what do I/we do? The clinicians in me says “Let’s explore that underlying core belief regarding self-worth,” the researcher in me says, “Let’s survey moms about their perceived self-worth before, during, and after their child’s birthday party,” and the mom in me says, “Thank God a child only has one birthday a year!”



To all the moms out there stuffing kid’s birthday gift bags while on a conference call, “well done!” And if your mermaid slime does not arrive in time, just remember, you probably just saved your living room carpet and a trip to the veterinarian.