I had a lot of great conversations this week, as I do most weeks, regarding the growth of Fashletics. I spoke with gym owners, marketing firms, resellers, designers, bloggers, and more. I love this. I love that running a business has created so many opportunities for new relationships. People, generally speaking, are awesome. Especially people who are passionate about spreading the message of health and well being.
However, it is entirely possible that the most important conversation I had this week was with... my mom. This is because in the midst of all of these amazing conversations, and while building new relationships with these incredible people that will help grow Fashletics - my son got sick. I am still a new enough mom that when my little guy gets sick, I have the insatiable urge to stop the world from spinning until he is better. But I can't do that. I need to take care of him and accept that the clock keeps running, which means I also need to remain attentive to my business, to my own health, and to my household.
My inability to stop time is what prompted the call to my mom. I was overwhelmed (not the first time) so I called her on my way home from an abbreviated day at work where many tasks were left undone. "Who can do this? Who can do all of this?" I asked. I avoid the words "I can't." I don't want to hear them leave my mouth. I don't even want to be thinking them. So instead I ask "Who can?" How is this done? Tell me how to do it all and I will.
"No one. No one can do it all. And if they tell you they can, they are lying."
I backed away slowly from the metaphoric ledge. I stayed quiet and let my mom speak. She's an awesome mom. A cheerleader, but an honest one. She reminded me that I don't have to constantly be "doing it all" in order to be doing it well. There's no such thing as a part time mom or a part time business owner, and yet it is impossible to devote a "full time" schedule to everything at once.
I got home and tended to my son. He was cranky and running a fever so I followed the doctor's orders. I stripped him down to his diaper to cool him off and soothed him to sleep. Little man needed his rest. He slept on my shoulder as I rocked him in the rocking chair, and this is where we stayed for the next three hours. It was exactly where I was supposed to be and where I wanted to be. My thoughts often drifted to work, but not in the usual anxious way. I can do it. And I can still do it really well. I just can't do it right now.