Division of Labor No. 2: Two parents working in tech with two kids under 3

You're going to need a nap after reading this one.

Hello! It’s the second-to-last day of February, and it feels just a little bit like spring out there today. Even if it’s just fake spring, I’ll take it!

Today, I have a fresh edition of DIVISION OF LABOR! But first, a few announcements.

My dear friend Fran Hauser is launching a book accelerator this spring with author and book coach Bethany Saltman. They designed the program for female experts, entrepreneurs, and thought leaders ready to accelerate the development of their nonfiction books. If this sounds like you, please check it out. Fran is the absolute best, and her books (The Myth of the Nice Girl and Embrace the Work, Love Your Career) are among my favorites. Plus, she and Bethany have a fantastic podcast you should also check out.

Second, I want to officially welcome Katherine Goldstein to Substack! She just moved her newsletter Double Shift to the platform last week. I received so much good feedback on my newsletter about the cost of childcare, and it’s a topic that Katherine has been reporting on for years. I highly recommend signing up for her newsletter!

And last, a request for help for some moms in need. I first met Claire Wasserman many years ago when I worked at Refinery29, and she was just launching Ladies Get Paid, a fantastic organization that has helped thousands of women negotiate better salaries. Claire and her wife and co-founder, Ashley, just had beautiful twins. Unfortunately, shortly after the birth, doctors discovered their son had a rare, congenital heart condition, and he had to undergo open-heart surgery. It was a tough surgery, but the little guy made it through, and the prognosis is good. But Claire and Ashley have found themselves in a very tight financial situation, as Ashley has to pull back from work to help support their son’s recovery. Plus, they are already managing $27,000 in medical bills incurred from Claire’s IVF treatments and pregnancy and the birth of the twins. They’ve launched a GoFundMe campaign to help offset some of the costs. Claire and Ashley have dedicated so much of their lives to helping other women. If you have a few dollars, will you consider donating? 

Now, on to regularly scheduled programming!

I first met Catherine Brown last fall when I crashed the fantastic MH/Work-Life Care at Work Summit to see my friend Rebecca Gale speak on a panel about the importance of paid leave. (As an added bonus, I saw Neha Ruch of Mother Untitled speak about reimagining career pauses.) My conversation with Catherine was too short, and I rushed home to stalk her on Instagram (as one does). I quickly got sucked into her fantastic account, The Cabro, where she details her experience as a working mom in tech. Catherine was one of the inspirations for DIVISION OF LABOR. So obviously when I started reaching out to people to ask them to participate, she was at the top of my list.

I’ll stop talking (er, writing) and let Catherine and her husband, Chris, take it from here!

Division of Labor Vol. 2

Name: Catherine Brown
Age: 44
Spouse’s Name: Chris Brown
Spouse’s Age: 44
Location: Seattle, WA

Number of children and their ages: We have a 17-month-old girl and 3-year-old boy.

Your job and how many hours you work per week: I work full time as a senior product marketing manager. In my “spare time” I run a media company called The Cabro. You can find me at www.thecabro.com, but I’m much more active on Instagram at @_thecabro. I also plan to launch my Substack @thecabro later this year.

Your spouse’s job and how many hours they work per week: Chris works full time in sales operations in tech.

Type of childcare you use: Our daughter is in a nanny share, and our son goes to preschool.

How do you split up household responsibilities: Chris and I use the Fair Play Method by Eve Rodsky, which is a program that helps couples divide up household and family responsibilities. For anyone unfamiliar with the program, Eve wrote a book and then created a deck of cards where each card represents a task that’s essential to get done to run a household: pick up groceries, clean the dishes, do the laundry, drive the kids to school, buy a gift for a kid’s birthday party, etc. The person who holds the card owns the conception of the action (what are we going to get the kid for the birthday party?), planning of the chore (how are you going to get the gift, online, at the store?), and then execution (actually buying the gift and getting it into the hands of the child). Each person in the relationship holds a card for a week, a month, or in perpetuity, depending on how you and your partner approach the system.

Setting up the Fair Play Method required upfront work for us. I read the book, but my Chris did not. I told him that he couldn’t push back on the method until he read the book. He agreed. We printed off the cards from the website (you can also buy the nicer ones online) and then “dealt” them. 

I do recommend that someone reads the book, and that you don’t delve into dealing the cards until you’ve learned the entire method. We started Fair Play in January 2021, when I returned from maternity leave with my son, and we haven’t stopped. We do check-ins once a quarter, but we rarely change tasks. This method helps us see each other’s contributions to the household and acknowledge the mental load of parenthood together. When tracking our day, we tried to note this where possible, but it’s so ingrained in us at this point that it feels like second nature for us to manage our household together.

How did you decide who does what: We divided up the Fair Play cards based on each person’s personal interest, what they were “good at,” and what we had time to do given the other deliverables we have at work and in our personal life.

Do you feel like it’s a fair division of labor: Yes, since this is negotiated up front, we both feel like it’s fair.

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Catherine & Chris share a typical weekday (if there’s such thing as “typical” when you’re a parent).

5:00 a.m.

CB1 (Chris): I hear soft rustling and a familiar murmur via our child video monitor. I get that hair-raising parental feeling of anxiety/adrenaline/exhaust/excitement that comes with the thoughts: Who is on kid duty this morning and will our 1.5yo stay down for another hour? I am not a gambling individual, but in this drowsy moment I’m considering what is the over/under for her staying in bed until 6 a.m.? I am doubtful and bet under. In my tired state, I also realize I am on kid duty this morning.

5:30 a.m.

CB1: I win! Our 1.5yo is up before 6 a.m. and letting me know she needs someone’s presence. After taking off my CPAP mask (HUGE plug for those who have apnea and/or snore: CPAP is a life-changer), I quickly grab the child monitor (so I can watch our sleeping 3yo) and quietly exit the bedroom so that my wife can continue to get her beauty sleep. Lame, her alarm goes off as I exit the room. “Morning, babe, have a wonderful morning.” This is a slightly early start for us this morning, and I am off to corral our beautiful 1.5yo, warm up some milk, and enjoy some quality father/daughter time in our dimly lit living room.

CB2 (Catherine): My alarm goes off. I am not an early riser, but I hate having a hard start to my day waking up to a crying child. So I ease into it with an early alarm and lay in bed for 30. It’s my morning off, which means my Chris is the one to get up with the children and get them ready. Normally, I would go into the office on this particular day and drop off our son at preschool on the way, but I’m WFH today, and I have a 7:30 a.m. call. So Chris will be getting the kids up and doing both drop-offs. We have a schedule we follow for drop-offs and who gets up early. It’s a fair division of labor, but sometimes life happens. We don’t keep score, but we have a plan that we follow most of the time. Our daughter is up early this morning. I feel bad for my Chris as he slowly gets out of the bed, and yet, I’m happy to have the morning to sleep in.

6:00 a.m.

CB1: Mom and 3yo are still in bed. Last night, we had a difficult bedtime routine for the 3yo. Hopefully, they can get some rest. The 1.5yo and myself journey downstairs to the playroom where there are more activities/toys, and where we throw epic dance parties. She points to Alexa and shakes her booty, informing me it is Taylor Swift dance party time. “Alexa volume 3.”

CB2: I lay in bed contemplating whether I should get up. I’m tired from the night before. My son refused to sleep until 11:30 p.m. last night. It was brutal. Usually he’s a good sleeper, but he woke us up on New Year’s Day, standing at our bedside and triumphantly proclaiming he escaped his crib. So we moved to the toddler bed, and our family entered the world of a “roaming toddler” at night. We think his nap at school needs to be shortened, and I messaged them last night to see if they could reduce his nap time. I stay in bed, sleepy but with an active mind.

6:30 a.m.

CB1: Thump thump thump…our son is up, and heading to our bedroom; thus Mom will be up VERY soon as well. Our son has yet to learn about gentle parental wakeups. The 1.5yo and I head upstairs to join the rest of the family. Oh joy. A meltdown morning. Catherine and I work as a team (even though it is her morning off) to diffuse the situation and prep our family for preschool and nannycare. Coffee was made sometime during this period.

CB2: Son wakes up and comes into our bedroom asking if it’s morning. I remind myself, again, that I need to turn on his “time to wake” light. I tell him it’s time to get ready for school, and a meltdown ensues. I dig deep to do some gentle parenting. It’s supposed to be my morning off, but I know my Chris is tired. I’m tired. We are all tired. It’s all hands on deck this morning. He’d do the same for me on his morning off.

7:00 a.m.

CB1: Tough morning transition to preschool (historically we have used timers/music to help with transitions). Once the 3yo makes it to the car, emotions calm, and we discuss the purpose of hazard lights and how fun the hazard button is to push. The 1.5yo is also dressed for the day and joins us for the ride to preschool, which gives Mom a little break from the meltdown morning.

CB2: I take a quick shower, grab a coffee, and start my day. I enjoy the 30 minutes of silence without any children in the house. I feel hopeful about the day after a really rough night and morning.

7:30 a.m.

CB1: I love taking our son to preschool. Sure the first few weeks of drop-offs were difficult, but now he is excited to see his friends (most mornings). This morning there are some low clouds and a quiet Seattle drizzle. Hazard lights are on thanks to the 3yo. Quick puffer coat hug and an “ugga mugga” kiss, and the 1.5yo and I say goodbye to our amazing preschooler. The 1.5yo and I enjoy a quiet drive home.

CB2: I log on for a morning call. Usually, I protect my mornings from work, as it creates a disruption in our routines. But I need to get an answer from a colleague about something that’s due today, so I scheduled it to optimize for her time zone. I love my home office. It’s the quintessential “grand millennial decor” with a mix of the usual tech worker necessities: dual monitors, standing desk, ergonomic chair.

8:00 a.m.

CB1: I have an 8 a.m. conference call. I take the call in my daughter’s room while she explores books on the floor. Mom to the rescue. Catherine takes our daughter for some play time. While I listen to the remainder of the call, I prep and package 1.5yo meals for the day: fruit, milk, yogurt, cheese, crackers. We don’t have vegetables for her. Ugh. We need to work on that. I also note we are low on milk.

CB2: Chris is home. I run upstairs and play with my daughter for a few minutes before she heads to the nanny share. It’s Chris’ turn for a call, so I give him a break so he can pay attention. We read a book, and I enjoy the sweet moments with our daughter. All of the cliches are true. She’s our youngest, our last, and we are holding onto every minute with her. I feel fortunate that I get these small moments with her when I work from home. Chris “owns” taking her to the nanny share so after his call, I hand her off and head downstairs to work.

8:30 a.m.

CB1: The 1.5yo is prepped and ready to head to nanny share. Luckily, we have a great nanny share within walking distance. It’s still drizzling outside, but I choose walking over driving. My daughter loves to walk, even in the rain. I complete the drop-off, quickly walk home, pour another cup of coffee, and sign on for work.

CB2: Start my morning of back-to-back meetings. I really enjoy my job, but this is not my favorite way to work. I need breaks to get organized on projects, and it’s looking slim today. I decline or move a few meetings to get some space in my day. I feel better.

9:00 a.m.

CB1: Catherine stops by my office to check in. We are still working on home-office etiquette when entering the other’s office. I never get it right.

CB2: I go to my Chris’s office to chat about something non-consequential. We connect for a minute before we go back to our work. I like working at home with him, though we often go hours without seeing each other.

10:00 a.m.

CB2: Preschool messages back to say they will cap our son’s naps to 30 minutes. I’m relieved. He needs the nap on school days, but I also need my nights back. I also know what it’s like to wake our son up from a nap prematurely, but I can’t imagine doing it in a room full of other sleeping toddlers. In keeping with the Fair Play Method, I own communication with the preschool, but it’s my Chris who handles the financial aspect and school forms. It feels fair.

10:30 a.m.

CB2: Play phone tag with a colleague in Singapore while trying to get dinner in the crockpot and make a snack. Chris and I switch off weeks for cooking. One person is responsible for all dinners and all meals for the kids Monday through Sunday, and then we switch. It sounds overwhelming, but we found it much easier than switching every day. Plus, the parent on deck can move around dinners if we end up going out to eat. In addition, it’s easier for the parent who is already in the kitchen to make the kid’s lunches. So, we double-up on meal duty that week. Chris has had a lot of weeks as of late, since I had sinus surgery and my recovery impacted my energy levels. He’s enjoying his week off.

11:30 a.m. 

CB1: Nanny sends a picture of our daughter. These photos make my day. At this time, I remember I need to empty the dishwasher (one of my Fair Play deliverables).

CB2: Nanny sends an adorable photo of our daughter sitting on a stool reading a book. My heart melts. I look at her chubby feet and acknowledge how fleeting this stage will be. Off to my 1:1 with my manager. I have a great manager and enjoy working through challenges with her.

12:00 p.m.

CB2: Finally, I’m free of meetings and can get heads down on some things. I order groceries (we need more bread for dinner) and try to think through anything else that might be running low. Of course, we are low on milk, so I order more. I am responsible for all grocery orders for our family except for the dinners Chris is responsible for cooking. For those meals, we found it’s easier for him to get his own groceries. We find this division works great for our mental load.

12:30 p.m.

CB1: I eat leftover chili at my desk for lunch. I load it up with Cholula hot sauce, which I store at my desk because I’m the only family member who appreciates spicy foods.

CB2: I’m in heads-down mode at work.

1:30 p.m.

CB1: Check in with my wife. Her office door was open so no etiquette concerns about entering her office.

CB2: I grab a quick lunch and head into another round of meetings. Chris walks in to give me some work news and makes a quick joke or two. He’s a witty one. We both work in tech and for the same company, so we are able to understand each other’s work day.

2:00 p.m.

CB1: Catherine and I have a schedule for pickups for the kids. She said she’d get our son today, but the calendar isn’t up to date. I ping her online to confirm the plan. She makes the change. Funny, convenient, and somewhat sad that during the workday we communicate via computer pings even though our offices are across the hall.

CB2: Chris pings me on Teams to ask me if I’m picking up our son. The calendar isn’t up to date based on our latest conversation, and I own the “managing the family calendar” card. I make the change and look at a couple of other changes that need to be made to the week.

2:30 p.m.

CB1: I run a quick errand to the grocery store and the local hardware store. Last night's meltdown resulted in two broken hinge door stoppers (though I believe they were broken prior). Before leaving, I ask my wife if we need anything at the grocery store? I inform her I am going to pick up milk. “Nope, nothing else,” she replies.

CB2: I’m upstairs on the couch working when Chris comes in to tell me he’s going to the grocery store and hardware store. I’m exhausted and not paying attention to the conversation. He leaves. The house is quiet again.

3:00 p.m.

CB1: I returned home with four cartons of milk. As I walk in the door, Catherine asks me why I got milk; she already placed a grocery pick-up order for milk. Ugh. What? Since kids, Catherine and I have been living in somewhat of a daze of exhaustion, and sometimes we miss things, like who is buying milk today. Looks like we will enjoy some generous pours of milk for the next few weeks. At the store, I splurged on an expensive chocolate/toffee bar for her; it helps diffuse the situation after the milk communication fiasco. I also bought three candy bars for myself, which I will enjoy later. I quickly install the (hopefully stronger) door stoppers, and I am overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment. I fixed something. A small win. Today is a good day. Note: I probably won’t fix something for another month.

3:30 p.m.

CB1: Back to my home office to finish remaining work deliverables.

4:00 p.m.

CB2: I leave to pick up my son. Seeing my kids at pick-up is one of my favorite parts of my day. My son hops in my car, and we play Twenty Trucks, looking for any vehicles we can identify on the way home. He’s not much for words about his day, but this is bonding time we’ve cultivated together, and I love it. We stop by the grocery store to pick up the groceries I ordered (including the milk).

4:30 p.m.

CB1: Nanny share pickup time. I walk down the street enjoying the elevated clouds with a light Seattle drizzle. My 1.5yo greets me at the door with a smile and a hug. I check in with the nanny and the nanny host family. We take our time walking back home, laughing and waving at all the birds, puppies, and cars passing by.

5:00 p.m.

CB1: Catherine and the 3yo arrive home from preschool. Catherine asks me to help take the groceries out of her car as she transitions the 3yo inside. I bring in five more cartons of milk (bringing the total number of milk cartons in the fridge to NINE). Catherine has a call from 5–5:30, so I help with kid coverage. I need to finish a few things at work, so for the next 30 minutes, the 3yo gets Bluey on iPad and the 1.5yo enjoys clapping and dancing with Ms. Rachel on my phone.

CB2: I’m part of a wealth-building group, and we meet on Wednesday nights. It’s a tight squeeze in my schedule making the call tonight. It’s not my night off, and I need to cook dinner. But Chris is supportive of my goal to work on my relationship with money, saving, and investing this year. I finish the call, and I come upstairs to a Taylor Swift dance party. Chris introduced our daughter to Taylor, and she is thrilled when the opening beats to “Cruel Summer” come on. I smile and join the fun for a few minutes.

5:30 p.m.

CB1: Catherine is back from her call. I transition the kids from their iPads with a little Taylor Swift dance party. Catherine starts dinner, and I take the kids and play hide-and-seek for the next 20 min.

CB2: I open the fridge to pull out the chicken for tonight, and I’m horrified at the amount of milk we now have. Our fridge is on the smaller side, so our entire bottom shelf is filled with whole and 2% milk. We have a laugh, and we acknowledge how exhausted we both are. It’s not the first time we’ve had a miscommunication like this. I start dinner and ponder if we will ever sleep again.

6:00 p.m. 

CB1: Dinner is served. Catherine cooked up a great BBQ sandwich meal. Kids ate most of their meals. That is another win for the day. I’m not as hungry. Poor decision of the day: The three candy bars were too much before dinner. Sugar overload. Wonder if some milk would help?

CB2: We sit down to eat. I feel a small win seeing the kids eat most of their dinner. I choose to ignore the fact that they seem to primarily enjoy the Hawaiian rolls and not my BBQ chicken.

6:30 p.m. 

CB1: Mom and kids head downstairs for some playtime. I clean up after dinner, do the dishes, take out the garbage, and wipe down the countertops. Once complete, I join them downstairs for some evening giggles and races.

CB2: I take the kids downstairs for some playtime. Chris eventually joins us after he finishes his nightly chores. He’s responsible for all dishes, garbage, and cleaning the kitchen. Those are his cards. Every day. All day. I know it’s tedious for him, but to give it up means he takes my chore: the laundry. And while I know his job gets old, it’s less complicated than my very specific flow chart of when to separate, when to air dry, and when to bleach. So we stay in our well-worn lanes.

7:00 p.m.

CB1: It is my evening off after the 1.5yo goes down. I bathe the kids, and Catherine preps the PJs/beds. I read a few stories to the 1.5yo and gently put her down for bed. I say goodnight to my 3yo and head downstairs to enjoy my evening off. 

CB2: Once our daughter is out of the bath, I sit with our son for a bit more. I’m tired and wondering if tonight is going to go smoothly or will yet again be a disaster. I gently remind him that if he stays in his bed, he gets his 10th sticker on the bedtime chart. And this means we get ice cream and pizza (in that order) the next day. He says he will stay in his bed. I’m not convinced.

7:30 p.m.

CB1: Every day I ask myself: Is today the day I have enough motivation/energy to start working out again? Tonight’s answer: Nope. Ugh. Something I need to work on. What will help? Goals. I signed up for a Ski to Sea team relay in May, and I realize I need to prioritize finding time during the day to workout/train. Tonight, though, I focus on gathering tax documents for our accountant and follow up on work emails/escalations sent after hours.

CB2: My son and I have a special 1:1 time after his sister goes to bed. Tonight, it’s playdough. Then it’s snacks, potty, one more snack, and bed.

8:00 p.m.

CB1: This evening, I watch two episodes of Slow Horses on AppleTV (highly recommend; British spy show). Ugh, I hear Duplo Lego blocks crashing upstairs. I check in with Catherine. The 3yo is having trouble going to bed, and this evening’s strategy is quiet time/playtime. I used that strategy last night while Catherine had her evening off. I sometimes—correction, I always— dread the evening bedtime routine. It is like a box of chocolates (yeah I went there): You never know what you are going to get. I appreciate and understand our son and daughter’s curiosity and desire to challenge rules/limits, but still I’d love a night where things go as planned.

CB2: Let the games begin. I attempt to put our son down, and as I close the door, he pops out of bed to meet me as it shuts. “I’m not tired, mama,” he tells me. I sigh. Ice cream and pizza are no match for whatever is keeping him up like this. Things were going so well for the last three weeks. I need to do some work before bed and wonder if I can get him to sleep in my bed and then move him to his bed. Doesn’t work. I let him play in his room while I work on my laptop.

8:30 p.m.

CB2: I’m working. He’s playing.

9:00 p.m. 

CB2: He’s still playing and refuses to go to bed. I’m too tired to push him, so I keep working.

9:30 p.m. 

CB2: I try again to convince him to go to bed. It doesn’t work. I wrap up my emails and get ready for bed.

10:00 p.m. 

CB1: Head to bed. CPAP on. Night.

CB2: I try one more time to get my son to go to bed in his own room. I finally give up, and we bring our son to bed with us. We are not a co-sleeping family, but I’m not going to have my toddler cry it out behind a locked door. His bed isn’t big enough for me to sleep with him, and the floor is not an appetizing choice tonight. And so, we all go to sleep in the same bed and decide to try it all again tomorrow night with a clean slate. For now, I’m exhausted and thankful he doesn’t start talking. (Catherine follow-up: Later in the week, I discover that my son is afraid of the dark, and it’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want to go to bed. If only I could have figured that out sooner.)

11:30 p.m.

CB1: Kick to the ribs. I’m wide awake.

12:00 a.m. 

CB2: I wake up to find my son is perpendicular in the bed between me and my husband. His head is in my ribcage. I acknowledge it’s going to be a long night.

As I say every week, I’m happy to open the comments on this newsletter, but please post with kindness!