My Double Life as an HR Director...

Before I fell in love with my husband, before I had my daughter, I had another passion...Human Resources. I know, I know, it's weird. But, I'm truly passionate about the role HR plays within a company and how it can be used to positively or negatively change lives.

I'm in hiatus mode from this blog to write for Austin Moms Blog AND HR Advisor.

If ya want to geek out about company culture with me, my 2018 HR Advisor posts are below! 

• Why I Love the Troublemaker
• Employee Experience Designer: The New Role of HR
• How HR Can Foster Resiliency and Create Stronger Teams
• What HR Can Learn from Retail's People Problem

I also wrote a piece for my company, Square Root, about my nimble approach to HR --> dorky childhood photos ahead --> HR Be Nimble!

Writing away with my #1 helper!

This Plate Has a Story...

My love of vintage dates back to childhood. Every Saturday we’d make the 45-minute drive into Dallas to visit my grandparents, including my grandmother, Bobbie June. From an early age, her drawers of handmade quilts and aprons, along with her vast collection of porcelain dolls fascinated me. Even the musty smell drew me in and evoked curiosity. I’d daydream about an item’s story and journey still to come.  

I started building my own collection of antiques in 2013. Since I can’t have all the things, I tend to buy small items like vintage plates. I have at least one from every vintage shop I’ve visited. And thus, I found myself in late December at a McKinney antique store scouring the place for the perfect plate. I landed on two. 

Henley immediately gravitated to one and insisted on carrying “her” plate around the store. My husband was in full on panic mode, but my take was the worst thing that can happen is she drops it. Well, folks, she dropped it. When she did, it didn’t just break - it shattered, along with her spirit. She was distraught. But, it was an accident.  

In that moment, it felt important to let her know it was an accident and to help her. We sat on the floor together picking up the pieces. Over and over again, I said, “It’s okay, we can fix it together”. We talked about how we could glue the pieces back together like a puzzle and even use glitter hot glue! We hugged. Her cries moved to whimpers, and I said, “There’s nothing we can’t fix together”. I meant it.  

Could We Squash the Mom Judgement Already?

Not a breastfed baby.

Last year, an Austin mom tore apart my Fed Is Best blog. It’s a topic sure to rile folks up, however, a truck driving into my gut is what I got in the comments.

I believe decisions should be about what works best for you and your family. In between me, my husband, and our daughter, we’ve got a lot of values, personalities, and perspectives to sift through when finding the best route.

I don’t expect each individual to agree, but I do expect respect for our family’s journey. 

This mindset is how I approached my blog about our breastfeeding journey, which quickly became an exclusively pumping journey. Her comments included that not breastfeeding was akin to feeding your child Oreos, dangerous, the bare minimum right above abuse and neglect. The commenter implored mothers to do more than keep their children alive, to help them thrive. With breastfeeding being the only way to achieve such status. In a final stab, the commenter said that she wouldn’t get all emotional like me if she couldn’t breastfeed.

Lessons from My Daughter

The new year has always held magic in it to me. It’s a chance for reinvention, for new beginnings. My first kiss with Quinn was on New Year’s Eve nearly a decade ago and my belief in the magic was only magnified after that night.

Lately I’ve found magic isn’t reserved for just the champagne and confetti nights, it’s in my every day. My daughter, Henley, opened my eyes to it. The world is full of wonder to her. She is curious about what things are and how they work. Things I stopped considering decades ago, like what the moon and stars are, why Legos click together, or how airplanes fly.

Let Her Try

A few weeks ago, someone stole a learning moment from Henley. I watched the look on her face and realized this may be the first but it won’t be the last. In a restaurant bathroom, she tried to move a stool under the sink so she could wash her hands. It was all a little clumsy but I was right there and her gears were turning. A woman stepped in. She moved the stool, held Henley, turned on the water, got her a paper towel. All things Henley is capable of doing herself. 

At the end, I asked to Henley, “Do you want to say thank you?”. She did not. (Yes, I believe in manners and teaching gratitude BUT I don’t want her to say things she doesn’t feel.) 

Back at our table I told Quinn the story. While the woman wasn’t helpful, my assumption was she was trying to be. On our way out the door, we walked past the woman and her friends. She loudly remarked, “There’s the little girl I had to help because her mom wouldn’t.” (Inner monologue: “Oh hell, no”.)