Esteemed client: your lack of planning is not my disaster

Professionally, I refer to myself as a "communications consultant." But in reality, sometimes I think clients and prospects view me as: "sucker who will do anything for money or the promise of it."

Clients expect a lot, especially today, and generally speaking I'm happy to try and satisfy those needs in return for challenging work and a paycheck. However, when you are a freelance writer/marketer/editor/illustrator/designer, it seems like some folks think you're just dying to take their project at any price, under any conditions, because you are a creative and ultimately love what you do and will work at any hour of the day, weekends included, to fulfill your urge to produce meaningful content and change the world. You will even do some pro bono work if pushed. Sometimes all of those things are true —but I still don't like the underlying notion that while the client has lots of boundaries, I seem to have none (in their eyes, anyway).

A few months back, I made contact with a man who owns a startup software company. We had a few phone conversations and he called me into his office for a meeting about a blog that he wanted to produce with my help: one hour to learn about his company seemed like a fine investment of my time. After the meeting, several e-mails and other phone calls ensued with more requests for (apparently free) advice. Finally, I said to him: I think you're ready to get going on this project, so would you please send me over a contract so that we can officially begin work together? No contract materialized. Later, another e-mail appeared, stating that he had to put the blog project on hold to work on some other marketing activities. In my mind, the client was gone—at least for the near term. It happens, c'est la vie. But then, about a month later, I receive an e-mail from the guy, stating: "What happened, are you no longer interested in the blog project?" I replied: "I am indeed still interested, yet your last note to me asked me to hold off for now." I received no further replies or e-mails from him.

What the heck?

I have a real problem with flaky clients —and it seems like they are in ample abundance right now.

I don't put together a strategy plan for free, sorry. I am, however, willing to offer a few getting-started tips— which I did for this guy, to no avail.

Then there's the problem of getting things in writing. It shouldn't be hard -- but sometimes, it's like pulling teeth. A consultant should always have a work contract stating project scope, requirements, and agreed-upon rates and payment schedules. It not only protects the consultant but also the client. A couple of weeks ago, a new client sent over several legal docs for me to sign and fax back immediately. When I asked when I would see a contract for myself, she replied by e-mail: "I've never had this type of a request from freelancers. What exactly do you need? Is this e-mail good enough?"

I don't know, is it? Not for you guys, apparently.

She then went on to say how upright and honest her company is, how everyone always gets paid on time, and so on and so on. That's very nice, but it won't hold up in court. Anyway, I just don't get the big deal here: we're talking about a simple work contract, 200 words or less.

Another new client had a super tight deadline for me to accomplish this week— which I agreed to do, somewhat reluctantly, before our move to Colorado end of next week. The work was supposed to filter into my inbox a few days ago but hasn't appeared yet. Now, I have half the time to complete the project -- and I just don't see how it's going to get done. So I've prepared myself for the next conversation: you're going to need to hire some extra help pronto. I have provided a few reminders about my schedule— as I dutifully should. But I don't see this project ending well for them or for me. To be fair: who knows what's gone wrong here, but I'm expecting that I'll be asked to pick up the slack and if I say no, guilt pangs will certainly attack me in the middle of the night.

And then there's the problem of getting paid on time— don't get me started. But I will, soon, very soon… I have loads and loads of tips from my own experiences and others about how to handle late invoices. Fortunately, this hasn't happened a lot in my career, but enough to make me wonder what I can do to prevent it altogether. Late fees are often in my contracts, but that doesn't usually push a negligent or cash-strapped client to pay me any sooner.

Esteemed client, may I ask: are you late on your rent and utility bills?
Doubtfully. So why can't you just pay me on time, too?

Don't forget: I worked super hard for you, am highly ethical, and have bills to pay as well. This isn't clothing and vacation money—we do actually need to eat around here and buy toilet paper.

At this point you are possibly thinking: wow, is she ever ungrateful. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. I am from-the-bottom-of-my-heart thankful for every piece of work that I get these days, and for good clients, I will do everything humanly possible to meet their needs -- as long as it doesn't adversely affect my kids.

There is, however, one thing I can say say with certitude: some clients are worth losing, for your own sanity. Know when to cut the cord, respectfully of course, and work even harder for the clients who treat you well. Because when it's all said and done, the customer's always right (even when they're not).

Something’s Gotta Give

Just for the record, there's no such thing as "work-life balance." But you already knew that. At the moment, I'm trying to improve my work-sleep balance, yet until we get through with this cross-country move, forget about it. (We are moving from the Bay Area to the Denver area in August, to be near extended family and make a change that we think will be better for our family for the long-term.)

Beyond working (or trying to), researching schools, packing up, seeing friends, and all the millions of details corresponding to moving your family to another city, my state of frazzledom is at an all-time high. Most working parents would agree -- and you don't even have to be moving to experience these feelings of chaos.

My good friend and work-at-home mom Joanna suggested I cover the topic of "what gives" which I have to say is always top of mind for me. We can't "do it all" even though we want to—so it's always a smart idea every several months to take stock of everything you have going on and to weed out a few things. And it's also an even better idea to prioritize how you're spending your time.

For me, here's what's most essential today in my life:

1. Three to fours hours of rejuvenating sleep per night during the week.
2. Spending time with my kids and occasionally even having a conversation with my husband.
3. Exercising rigorously at least 15 minutes per week to compensate for my chocolate habit.
4. Working at least enough to pay for daycare, girls nights, and miscellaneous items like groceries.
5. Reading at least 5 minutes, of any text whatsoever, before passing out in bed.

After that, comes the following:

1. Seeing friends.
2. Keeping the house relatively clean and with a walking path cleared at all times.

Here are the things that I no longer do, and possibly never did:

1. Shower every morning (ah, one of the lovely benefits of working from home).
2. Style my hair and wear cute, coordinated outfits (unless of course I'm actually getting out of the house to do something fun).
3. Make home-cooked meals every night.
4. Chat on the phone with friends and family (other than my mom).
5. Print photos and put them into albums.
6. Volunteer.


It's not that I wouldn’t like doing these things, but there's just no time at the moment.
And that's my message here: what must you keep and what must you get rid of to maintain your sanity?

Decide, before you implode. I'm always curious to know what other people have opted not to do any longer, or still do but in a modified fashion. For instance, I love to cook but most weeknights I am pulling something out of the freezer such as chicken tenders, fish sticks, veggie burgers, or throwing together a quick spaghetti and salad dinner, veggie stir-fry, or kitchen sink burrito. My husband and I don't use recipes too much anyway, but we certainly don't cook anything that takes longer than 10 minutes to prepare during the week. We still eat healthy, and buy fresh produce, but I can't beat myself up over the fact that my work day ends exactly when my kids are starving. There's just no patience for slow cooking around here.

I'm also fascinated by those people who are proficient when it comes to being highly efficient: making their kids’ lunches the night before, laying out their children's clothes the night before to avoid early-morning arguments about why a four-year-old cannot wear her holiday party dress to preschool, doing menu planning for the week and shopping on Sunday, having organic groceries delivered to their door, and a number of other strategies which of course I rarely deploy myself.

One thing I am excellent about, I must admit, is organizing my life on my iPhone. If I don't have all those tasks and calendar items right there at my fingertips, they will be forgotten, neglected, and my life will be in even a more hopeless state of disarray than it is now. Thank you, Apple, and thank you to my obsessive-compulsive, detail-oriented mother for those productivity genes.

What are your secrets? Please, write me and do tell.

I just have one final thing to add here, which is of the highest importance: if your spouse does not equally help with household and kid-related tasks, figure out a way to divvy them up pronto. In our house, I pretty much handle the playdates and social calendar, school details/tasks, homework supervision, doctor appointments, and a lot of the errands and shopping. My husband does a lot of the cooking, folds the laundry, helps clean and pick up, and does the hideous job of taxes and financial management. He also is a genius at playing tickle monster with the girls when I need a break. If your spouse cannot handle such responsibilities, I advise you to find a new one at your earliest convenience. And I'm dreadfully sorry, but mine is not available.

The joy of finding schools for your kids

Just when I thought I was done arranging suitable academic environments for my children, I must do it all over again. My daughters are 4 and 6, and have been happily ensconced in our neighborhood elementary school (which miraculously, happens to be one of the most highly ranked schools in our district), and a fabulous preschool five minutes away. It was painful getting them placed in both of the schools: it took me an entire summer to find the preschool for Shelby, my older daughter, which thankfully is the same school which Campbell now attends. Our neighborhood school is over-capacity so we had to camp overnight on the school grounds to simply get on the waiting list. (We rent, but believe me, the homeowners in our neighborhood were beyond livid at how little impact their tax-paying dollars were doing in terms of getting them into their very own public school!)

We were 13th on the list, but somehow or another, through some divine intervention or fateful cancellations from kids ahead of us whose parents opted for private school, we were awarded a spot the summer before her kindergarten year.

It's been smooth sailing the last couple of years, but since we just decided to move to Colorado, now I must restart the process all over again. (Don't worry, I will address the myriad issues involved with moving and uprooting your family in the next couple of blogs… we've done it before, and it doesn't get any easier).


Is it just me, or is finding an appropriate school for your child exceedingly complicated?

Or is it that I, and other parents of my generation, make the process exceedingly complicated with our ridiculously high expectations?

Or have the schools just gotten altogether crappier and/or more expensive?

In truth, I enjoy having a choice in my children's education, but in today's world, parents must decide between a dizzying array of options: private schools, public schools, charter schools, magnet schools, Montessori schools, whole-child schools, "back to basic" schools, language-immersion schools, half-day, full-day, traditional school year, year-round school year, and on and on and on.

Private schools sap whatever disposable income you may have socked away for vacations, college tuition, or that beautiful six-piece redwood outdoor furniture set. If you enroll your child in public schools, which barely have enough budget to pay for teachers’ salaries and basic supplies, count on setting aside part of your budget (and schedule) for costly outside activities public schools used to offer: music, art, dance, foreign language, and on and on and on.

I'm traveling later this week to Denver, to spend some time in the western suburb of Golden where we plan to live for the next year, visiting preschools and scoping out some of the neighborhood schools. I've spent probably 20 hours this week on the phone and online researching schools, talking to parents (which can be helpful but also confusing), talking to principals, the school district, talking to my mother (which can be helpful but also confusing), and on and on and on.

This has left me virtually no time to work, much less keep up with social media and my blog. I had lunch with my dear friend and former colleague Howard today, who scolded me for ignoring my blog for two weeks. Thus, since I can think of nothing else to write about, here I am -- blogging about the challenges of working parents and school-age children. Here is the first hurdle: finding a full-day preschool program that isn't an institutional daycare in disguise. You know what I'm talking about: apathetic instructors, sterile-looking classrooms, too much free time, etc.

A friend of mine has her child enrolled in a wonderful preschool near Golden. It's essentially a farm, where the children get to play and learn about animals and nature in addition to their regular preschool activities. It sounds perfect for my high-energy child -- except that it's only 2 1/2 hours per day, three days a week. After my commute, that gives me a whopping six hours of work coverage. My mother said: “Oh why don't you just enroll her anyway, and I'll take care of her the rest of the time." (My parents also live in Golden).

This is coming from a woman who doesn't have time to do her mandated physical therapy exercises for her shoulder, because she has scheduled herself so thin with other activities such as tennis and golf, volunteering, friends, errands, and on and on and on.

Thus, I must find a preschool with the following criteria: the hours that I need (somewhere between 24 and 30 hours a week), caring and passionate teachers, a healthy learning environment, a focus on not only academics but also arts, plenty of time for fun and free play, a pleasant outdoor area, clean and spacious classrooms, and within my budget. There is also that indescribable, highly subjective "feeling" that one gets with the right school.

Because school is like a second home for your child, most of us look for some sort of emotional connection to the teachers and the program. You have to be comfortable with the setup for your kid's personality, and you want to have some commonalities with the other parents: too many people significantly below your income level gets awkward, too many people significantly above your income level will create another level of anxiety (for me) that basically, I just can't deal with right now. That's just one commonality, of course, but I do believe that socioeconomic differences can create issues if there's not a balance.

I also strongly believe that my kids should be exposed to diversity -- diverse backgrounds, races and religions. In Colorado, it's just not going to be the same as here in the Bay Area where a visit to the grocery store is like a visit to Heathrow airport. I am reconciling myself with this reality -- and also with the reality that in the short time frame that I have to arrange schools for my kids, I'm not going to be entirely satisfied with the result.

But maybe that's a good thing. This whole school business sometimes gets out of hand. Everyone seems to want the perfect environment for their children—at whatever cost. Whatever happened to adaptability? I think there's something to be said about finding the best environment you can to match your kid’s temperament and abilities, but also, not overanalyzing every aspect of it nor expecting a school that will transform your child into the next governor, Nobel scientist, or CEO.

And then there's the question of your own sanity; is there a true ROI from paying private school tuition if a public school is nearly as, or just as, strong? Is it really worthwhile to drive 15 miles out of your way twice daily for your child to attend a particular coveted school? It might be for some people -- I'm not sure it is for me, though.

My husband and I will undoubtedly spend a lot of time selecting schools for our kids -- but whatever happens, I also know that the best we can do for them is to be supportive, interested, and involved parents. If they end up with a B versus an A school next year, I have a hard time seeing how this is going to harm them in the long run. We can always transfer them elsewhere if things don't work out. But you can bet I’m going to have a few more wrinkles by the time August 24th rolls around.

Lowering expectations (can be) the key to happiness

By nature, I'm an idealist. As a young girl, I wanted to be an artist. Later, I imagined myself a photographer -- but my practical, scientifically-oriented father (he holds a PhD in Geophysics) informed me that it would be best to seek a career that actually paid. Darn. Then I went on to journalism school, hoping to catapult myself into the world of foreign correspondents, or diplomacy. Naturally, my first job was with a small, barely funded local newspaper in the suburbs of Denver, writing about the high school prom, burglaries, new restaurants, foreign exchange students, and other glamorous topics—for $7 dollars an hour.

You get the picture. Life isn't always what we expect; in fact, often it's quite foreign from how we had envisioned it when we were wrinkle-free and had few worries other than final exams and whether Joe Hunk will ever call back. (the photo here is of a much younger me, as a college student in Italy...the world was my oyster!)

In my visions as a teen, I was going to be married at the age of 28, traveling internationally at least twice a year, living in a tranquil ocean-side home, doing meaningful, intellectually-stimulating, and well-paying work. Yep, that's just about how things have worked out—minus a few details. I do get paid well for my work, when I get it. So that part, thankfully, came true.

Disappointment comes in many different forms, I've learned.

Sometimes, our image of ourselves is cruelly-shattered, with no warning, from the people whom we love the most.

This morning, which happened to be my birthday, I was driving my four-year-old daughter to preschool, who cheerfully announced from the back seat: "I wish Cooper's mom was my mommy. She has really pretty hair and nice clothes and I really wish that she was my mommy."

Silence.
"Huh,” I replied, in my best "who cares" voice.
"But you are my sweetie lovey-girl mommy and I love you."

Somehow, she redeemed herself with that statement. But still—if I am not appealing to her now, what will she think when she's 13… and I am… over the hill?

As working parents, particularly those of the female genotype, we can be viciously hard on ourselves. We must be perfectly on time, intelligent and responsive to clients! We must always shop organic, cook delicious meals that are never from the freezer, and God forbid give our child a second cookie or more than 10 grams of sugar per day!

We must exercise regularly, straining our stomach muscles because they are the "core" of our physique and without the core we are toast, lift weights 4x/week to avoid the drooping shoulder syndrome of aging women, get plenty of rest, drink 64 ounces of water daily so that our skin doesn't look like a grey sack of potatoes by the time we are 40, use natural cleaning products, attend every field trip at the children's school, volunteer at the children's school at least once a week because they don't have enough help, blah blah blah.

I would like to offer, that it's okay, occasionally, to skip the regular workout. God, nor your mother, will judge you if you serve chicken tenders and pizza from the freezer -- two nights in a row. It's okay, occasionally, to have a glass of wine at 4 PM. You will still be a respectable person if you actually decide not to volunteer at school, church, or elsewhere this year, because you need time with your family.

It's particularly hard for some people to lower their standards and be content with what they can achieve without killing themselves— and look back with fondness at where they have come from and the good people in their lives they been fortunate enough to know and befriend. Because at a certain point, something's got to give—either your standards or your sanity. Trust me, from someone who's been on the other side of sanity at least once in her life, you don't want to go there.

Here's a benefit of working for yourself: when you have a slow week, that's an invitation to actually go do something that you couldn't do if you work in an office for the big mean boss: go to the gym for the "executive workout" in the hot tub, grab a book and head to your favorite coffee shop, call a friend, see a funny movie, walk your dog, shop for something relatively inexpensive yet frivolous. Oh, and here's a wild and crazy idea: take a nap.

If you're like me, and you feel guilty even thinking about doing such things when you could be working on your business, pursuing new clients, cleaning the floors, or revamping your webpage: don’t. I am now giving you a coupon for a guilt-free afternoon before the children come scampering and screaming home from school or daycare, demanding dinner in five minutes and your complete undivided attention at the same time.

Speaking of lowering expectations, we are doing a "staycation" next week, instead of spending money we don't have on a relaxing, lovely, inspirational, stunningly picturesque vacation at a beach resort. I expect to be disappointed -- but I'm also planning to surprise myself (and the little ones) with some fun things to do that don't cost a lot of money. We will go on nature hikes and collect rocks, splash around at the health club pool, eat take-out a couple of nights, and concoct munificent tropical drinks. The kids will stay up a bit late. We’ll eat yummy and occasionally unhealthy snacks. We will do as little housework as possible. And finally, we will lower our expectations about the experience -- and hopefully, be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.

Are we overdosing on social media?

Social networking is the big buzz but sometimes it's just a big headache.

I signed up for Facebook perhaps 8 months ago. Linkedin has been a friend for a couple of years. And then after much procrastination, I joined Twitter one month ago. The other day, a respected colleague sent me an e-mail to join her on Plaxo. Of course, I did.

When does anyone have time to get any actual work done? I'm amazed, particularly when I go on twitter, to find some people posting up to 20 tweets a day. They're filling up my screen, and it's annoying. There should be a limit, don't you think? I'm also realizing, of course, that some people at corporations are actually getting paid to tweet as part of their jobs in PR, marketing, or customer service. Nice for them.

Here's my other gripe: Facebook is for mindless banter about personal life, IMHO. Must this also occur on twitter? I use twitter and LinkedIn for business. Twitter has become a newsfeed of sorts for me -- I can filter on topics of interest to me, such as healthcare, high-tech, and the environment. I wouldn't mind actually getting all of my news this way so that my e-mail inbox could be strictly about taking care of business tasks or messaging friends. So that's one good thing. But unfortunately, social media is all about narcissism and no matter where you go, people just have to talk about themselves in some fashion.

Now that I'm done complaining, I do want to tackle the issue at hand: have we gone overboard on social media? Is social networking simply consuming far too much of our personal and business lives, risking our human relationships and impeding productivity at work? Is there really any measurable and valuable return?

I watched a video briefly yesterday from a man (I'll call him Twitterstar) who has started a service to increase one’s twitter followers. He's now got 40,000 followers. Is that a good thing? Twitterstar certainly thought so, and bragged about his ability to gain nearly $20,000 in income from such followers. Well, that's something for sure. But how much time did he spend to get that $20,000, I wonder? His friend, who was on the video with him, remarked that Twitterstar had spent over 1000 hours on the site—which comes out to about $20 per hour. I wouldn't say that's a fabulous return.

There is a place for social media, but I think the smart business person has to be careful about how they use such sites and limit her actions strictly to business purposes. That's not including Facebook of course -- which is for late night diversion or a five-minute siesta from work in the middle of the day.

For all intents and purposes, social media is still an experiment and it’s still foggy, at least for me personally, how I am going to "monetize" my involvement in these various sites. However, I have pieced together a few basic rules for myself, as follows:

1. I share personal information about myself only on Facebook because I use that site to connect with friends, and friends only.

2. I do not accept friend requests from people whom I don't know well, much less can hardly remember from high school.

3. I do not accept LinkedIn requests from people whom I have never met or talked to on the phone or at least had a decent online conversation with and understand our common interests.

4. On working days, I limit my Facebook time to 10 minutes per day. I don't post everyday unless I have something somewhat useful or thought-provoking to post. (I try to put myself on the other side of that post).

5. I do not post more than 5 or 6 tweets a day, and I never tweet on the weekends.

6. I use any tools and methods I can to make my experiences with the sites more efficient. For instance, on LinkedIn, there are only a couple of groups I belong to that necessitate daily updates to e-mail – but most of my groups are set for weekly digest updates. On Facebook, my settings are such that nothing arrives in my inbox. I go to the site to read everything because I do not want more random stuff filling up my inbox. On twitter, I use an application called TweetDeck to interface with the site. I can do all of my posting and actions from there in a more automated fashion, and I love the way that I can create groups to organize my tweets. That way, I can read the most important stuff first and the other tweets only if I have time.

7. I make a point to use the phone for networking every week, and schedule at least one in-person meeting a month. I also attend a couple networking events every quarter. (See "Face-To-Face Networking Is Still Critical").


Everyone has to set their own rules and limits for social networking. The point is: make sure to do just that. Then you'll have more time for live human interactions, such as hanging out at the beach with your kids...

What are your thoughts on the intersection between social media and business? Are you making any money or deriving quantifiable business benefit from your time spent on these sites? Frazzled mom wants to know!

Face-to-face networking is still critical

Last night I was making dinner for the kids when I realized that I had forgotten to RSVP for a business networking event that I try to attend from time to time. I had already had a long day of working and taking care of the kids, it was hot, and I was drinking a glass of wine, which didn't exactly help my motivation.

While eating with my family, I realized I hadn't met face-to-face with people for work-related matters in months. It's easy not to, with Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, e-mail, texting, and other forms of social media and digital communications.

Even phone calls can make us all feel like we are doing our part to stay human. But looking someone straight in the eye—there's just no substitution for that.

So I splashed some water on my face, brushed my hair, threw on something that looked nicer than a playdate and ran out the door.

Am I glad I did. I spent 30 minutes chatting with entrepreneurs and consultants in the green business sector, followed by a speaker, Steven Van Yoder (author of “Get Slightly Famous”) who discussed personal branding, and then a roundtable with introductions of everyone in the room. The networking event is called EcoTuesday, held in Palo Alto, and it's a super forum for people interested in environmental and sustainability issues and careers. (Currently, EcoTuesday has events in several cities. The photo here is from their site...lamo me can't do a caption yet).

I made a few contacts that may be important for my business, but more importantly, I got out of the house and talked to some real live people who weren't arguing about whose stuffed animal belongs to whom, or complaining about why they didn't get dessert. I hugged my friend Jeff Marcous of dharma Merchant Services, who’s moving his business and life from the Peninsula up to San Francisco to start a new chapter. I wished him well, and was glad I got to see him again before he becomes a hip urban resident, leaving me in the dust here in San Mateo.

On the drive home, I felt more connected, energized, and full of possibilities. I learned some cool things: such as the fact that the planet Mercury, which is currently in retrograde, will be back in alignment shortly after my birthday in early June (thank you, Universe). I learned about a company called Advanced Transit Dynamics Inc., and chatted with its sales rep, a wonderful woman named Whitney, who pitches aerodynamic trucking panels to trucking companies by promoting the gas-saving benefits. Blue-collar meets sustainability: what a concept.

I was going to talk about time management today, but I'm still trying to figure out that one. Especially now that I'm on Twitter and feel like I've spent way too much time tweeting this week. I have to get a handle on this social media before I lose my wits: of course, it's all about business, right?

In any event, pardon the pun, but get out of the house and go to an event. As soon as you can. Not only does this enable you to get away from your computer, the laundry, dirty kitchen, the regular evening meltdown of children of any age, but you'll undoubtedly learn something new, and exercise your charming social graces which have been hidden away behind that PC for the past untold months. You'll also run into at least one person to add to your social or business network.

For me, I'm interested in reconnecting with the delightful woman I met last night, Jane Hillhouse, founder of Final Footprint. (Check out her website for information on her concept for "green burials"). But the reason that I want to hang with Jane is to discuss astrology and whatever else might come of that: because she was funny, full of life, and I need people like that.

Do you attend networking events? How often and what value do they bring you?

Until next time, enjoy the rest of the week—and don't worry if you still feel frazzled by Friday happy hour. You won’t be alone….

Frazzled Working Moms at Home: Forget Balance, Forget Recognition…Seek Inspiration

Whenever I talk to my friends and tell them that I am a stay-at-home working mother, they all respond the same way:
"Oh you're so lucky, I would love to do that!”

And for the most part, I agree with them 100%. And here's why:

--I don't have to dress up. Or even shower.
--I get to spend time with my kids that otherwise would be spent commuting.
--I can work a flexible schedule and always have at least one full day off per week to be with the -kids or take care of errands.
--During breaks, I get to walk my dog on a beautiful sunny day.
--When I'm not too busy, I squeeze in errands, or trips to the gym.
--I am my own boss, and most days, I really like working for me.

But there's a downside. Your time is completely your own (well maybe not, if you happen to have a real boss) but it also feels incredibly divided, distracted, and not always productive. Even though you're at home, you have the license (and wrongly, the self-imposed obligation) to do laundry, clean up toothpaste from the kid’s bathroom mirror, lift weights, comb through catalogs for the latest deals, read the paper, and on and on and on. Those activities can easily take up 150% of your work day if you're not careful.

There's also loneliness. Which means, controlling the urge to log onto Facebook 15 times per hour and texting your friends to find out what they're making for dinner tonight.

Thus, I'm going to write about the triumphs and travails of a working stay-at-home mother, and I expect to hear a lot of stories from my like-minded colleagues who are currently perhaps writing a report for a client while simultaneously feeling guilty about the fact that they've missed volunteering at their kid’s school two weeks in a row, need to get their youngest child in for her four-year-old annual doctor's exam even though her birthday was two months ago, and wondering why the dog just threw up again, for the third day in a row.

I work 25 to 30 hours a week as a writer, editor, and communications consultant to businesses and websites. The rest of my time is spent taking care of the kids, the house, and all those other duties that stack up to remind you that you will never be bored or have a free moment for the rest of your adult life.

I love my flexibility, but sometimes I bemoan my lack of respect. My general feeling is that moms who work part-time from home are not always seen as valuable contributing members of society, but hobbyists. We just do this to fill the time, right? Others who wear nice clothes to work and sit in air-conditioned offices listening to completely useless banter from colleagues during meetings may not always think that we are bona fide professionals. My definition of a professional is someone who is good enough at something—anything—to actually make money doing it.

And my personal opinion is, women who work from home are fearless, multi-taskers who will never waste time in a meeting that has nothing to do with their job. Unless of course, a client is paying you to attend. The fact of the matter is, if you can't be highly efficient working at home, especially if you work for yourself, with piles of laundry and chores tempting you like Godiva truffles, you won't survive. We are not hobbyists: moms who work from home are helping to support their families, maintain their sanity, and contribute to the world. We just do it on odd schedules and we often wear gym clothes and have unwashed hair.

So if you get frustrated when your colleagues don't understand why you can't have meetings on Thursdays, even though you have told them repeatedly that Thursdays are your day off to do errands and spend with your kids, you’re not alone.

To my fellow stay-at-home working mothers: keep up the good work, and remember, it's okay to feel frazzled, out of control and unproductive. That just means you have a lot on your mind, a lot to take care of, and a lot of goals to achieve. It's all good.

Next week: organizing your time. That doesn't mean you need to have a set schedule. It just means, with the hours you have without kids to take care of, make the most of them, and determine the proper balance between personal activities and work activities.

And please, please, don't feel guilty, about anything…aside from not taking care of yourself, or serving partially-hydrogenated, corn-syrup loaded snacks to your children.