You’re in the kitchen with your family, and your child is talking. They’re halfway through a story when you realize you’re lost.
What happened? Which friend are they talking about?
You ask for clarification, and they get frustrated. They’ve already told you three times.
They did?! When?
You’re there physically, but your mind has been somewhere else.
This happens occasionally. But if you’re a physician mom who often feels overwhelmed balancing work and home, it may feel all too familiar.
The Work That Follows You Home
Sometimes we leave the building, but our thoughts stay at work.
There’s the patient whose diagnosis we’re still questioning. The difficult interaction we keep replaying. The test we wonder whether we should have ordered. The unfinished charts hanging over our heads. The upcoming administrative meeting and what might change next.
These thoughts follow us through school pickup, dinner, and bedtime.
We want to enjoy the ordinary moments right in front of us. Instead, we find ourselves somewhere else entirely.
Our families notice. And then we add guilt to everything we’re already carrying.
Being There, and Feeling Like You Fell Short Anyway
Maybe you were excited to make it to your child’s evening game. You arranged your day around it. You were there, watching.
Then your pager went off. You pulled up a patient’s chart on your phone and returned a call, right when your child was up to bat or did something they wanted you to see.
Later, they tell you that you they saw you on your phone.
You understand their disappointment. You’re disappointed, too. You also know you were responding to a responsibility you couldn’t simply ignore.
And yet, before long, one missed moment becomes more evidence for a familiar story:
“I’m not a good enough mom.”
There are real demands here. Sometimes work requires our attention outside the hours we planned. Sometimes our thoughts keep circling work even when there’s nothing we need to do right then.
Both deserve attention. Neither becomes easier to address when we turn the experience into a judgment about ourselves.
The Physician Mom We Think We Should Be
Somewhere along the way, many of us developed a picture of the physician mom we’re supposed to be.
She’s brilliant, compassionate, and efficient at work. Then she goes home and is fully involved in school, meals, activities, and everyone’s social life.
She has close friends and fulfilling hobbies. She works out regularly. She’s fit and healthy.
Oh, and she has a wonderful marriage and perfectly behaved kids.
It sounds ridiculous on paper. But how often do we compare ourselves to some version of this woman?
Then we wonder why we feel like we’re falling short.
Even when we’re with our families, we may still be mentally trying to become the doctor who never misses anything, never leaves anything unfinished, and never disappoints anyone.
That’s a lot to carry into a conversation in the kitchen.
Do We Have to Give Up Our High Standards?
I don’t think the answer is to stop caring about doing things well.
High standards have helped many of us accomplish things that matter deeply to us. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be an excellent physician, a loving partner, and a parent our children can count on.
Those desires can help us grow.
But there’s a difference between having a direction we want to move toward and requiring ourselves to arrive at perfection.
We can learn, improve, and become more intentional without making every difficult day proof that we’re failing.
A Different Way to Think About the Ladder
Imagine a ladder.
For years, you may have pictured Supermom or Superdoctor at the top. Every rung below her represents another way you haven’t quite measured up.
What if you changed what the ladder represents?
Instead of measuring your distance from an impossible person, let it represent the things you’re learning and practicing.
One rung might be noticing that your mind has wandered and returning to the conversation.
Another might be making a plan for unfinished work so you don’t keep mentally rehearsing it all evening.
Another might be apologizing after you’ve been impatient, or asking for support when the demands are more than you can reasonably carry.
Some days you’ll practice these things more easily. Other days you’ll fall into familiar patterns.
You can notice, learn, and try again.
You don’t have to become Supermom to make a meaningful change in how you live today.
What Your Patients and Children Can Learn From You
Think about the physician you would want caring for you.
Knowledge and sound judgment matter. So does someone who listens, follows through, and is willing to reconsider when new information comes to light.
Being an ally to your patients includes continuing to learn. You don’t need to have known everything from the beginning to remain committed to helping them.
And what do you want your children to learn from watching you?
I want mine to see someone who cares, takes responsibility, and keeps growing. Someone who can acknowledge a mistake without making it her whole identity.
Someone who gets distracted and comes back. Who apologizes. Who asks for help. Who has interests and needs of her own.
That’s an example worth giving them.
Coming Back to the Moment in Front of You
Back in the kitchen, your child is still telling their story.
You notice where your mind has gone.
Does that work concern need action now? Or is it something you can make a plan to return to later?
If it can wait, you can turn back toward your child. You can acknowledge that you missed something and listen again.
It won’t give you a perfect evening. It gives you a way to participate in this one.
And those moments of noticing and returning are part of how we grow.
Want Support Getting Your Evenings Back?
In coaching, I help physician moms explore the thoughts, expectations, and habits that keep work taking up space in their evenings, and make changes that fit their lives.
If this sounds familiar, you can book a complimentary call here. We’ll talk about what you’re experiencing and whether coaching would be a good fit.
