If Motherhood Had Performance Reviews: A Totally Biased Report Card (E81)

Mom Performance Review: A Humorous Reflection

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Imagine if you got an actual performance review for motherhood, like a real sit down where someone evaluated how you're doing at snack prep or conflict resolution or surviving bedtime, would you get a raise or maybe a gentle suggestion to circle back on the laundry? Well, in today's episode, I'm going to walk you through an imaginary performance review, and I promise it is going to be ridiculous.

My name is Krissy Bold. I am a stay at home mom to two little boys, and this is Mom's Guide to Finding Herself.

For five years I was an evaluator in public schools. I spent so much of my days observing teachers, collecting evidence and helping them reflect and scoring their performance against a giant rubric with way too many boxes. At the beginning of every school year, we'd sit down to set professional goals.

These weren't vague, like be a better teacher. They had to be measurable and actionable.

Things like increased student engagement by implementing cooperative learning strategies twice a week. Then throughout the year I'd pop into their classrooms, sometimes announce, sometimes not, and take [00:01:00] notes on what I saw. I'd write up reports, highlight strengths, point out areas for growth, and at the end of the year we'd sit down and go over everything, celebrate the wins, talk through the struggles, revise goals for the next year.

And I'll be honest, there were parts of this that I loved. I loved helping people see their strengths.

Sometimes the things that they didn't even know they were doing well, like when a teacher thought that she was barely keeping it together, but I could show her evidence of all of the quiet, magical things that she was doing that made her students feel safe and seen. I loved reflecting with them, making plans, watching them grow over time, and sure, sometimes I had to give tough feedback, but it was always with the goal of helping them evolve into their best, most confident selves.

Fast forward to now. I've been out of that world for a few years and instead of evaluating teachers in classrooms, I am wiping yogurt off the wall and trying to remember the last time I washed my hair. And the thing that hits me [00:02:00] sometimes is. Where's my evaluator now? Like if motherhood were a real job, and let's be honest, it is the most intense, full-time unpaid job out there.

Where's the person showing up with a clipboard saying, wow, the way you deescalated that tantrum was incredible. Let's add that to your strengths column, or you kept everyone alive on four hours of sleep and even remembered the preschool snack sign up. That is some high level executive functioning right there.

Instead, it's just me in my head giving myself the harshest performance reviews of all time, because let's be real, no one critiques a mom harder than she critiques herself. And that got me thinking, what if we actually did get formal performance reviews as moms, like with categories and commentary, maybe even a few awards?

What would it look like if we evaluated ourselves the way I used to evaluate teachers, not with judgment. With reflection, [00:03:00] celebration, and maybe a little humor. So today, that's exactly what we're here to do. I'm pulling out my old evaluator brain and instead of using it on lesson plans and classroom decor, I'm using it on motherhood.

Welcome to the most ridiculous and possibly the most affirming mom performance review you've ever heard. Now, this is not exactly my own performance review, but kind of a performance review that any of us might receive. Let's break this down rubric style. Here are the top categories in the mom performance review. Number one, communication skills. You have become a master of translation, turning toddler babble into complex emotional needs, narrating your every move like you're hosting a cooking show

and toggling between 12 different voices in a single morning. Here are some of your shining moments. You've delivered a calm, I hear you, but we're still not having cookies For breakfast for the 20th day in a row, you used [00:04:00] Daniel Tiger lyrics to stop a meltdown in target. A Plus demonstrates exceptional adaptability in switching tones from soothing to serious within seconds.

Regularly uses positive reinforcement in the form of goldfish, crackers, and bubble time. Successfully interprets garbled toddler speak on the first try. W wa bop clearly means I want the blue sippy cup, not the red one you already gave me. And here are some areas for growth.

Occasionally contradict self, like do not yell, is delivered at full volume, or could benefit from fewer passive aggressive sighs when asked for the fifth snack and. Maybe you need to cut back on sarcastic muttering when no one is listening. Category two, time management. Efficiency is your middle name. Your schedule isn't yours anymore, but somehow you're still getting it all mostly done. [00:05:00] Some shining moments. You achieved record setting diaper changes. Under pressure.

You multitask flawlessly while making lunches, refereeing a sibling argument, and signing a field trip form with your foot. You execute a full day of activity on five hours of fragmented sleep and one reheated coffee.

Here are some areas for growth, occasionally loses 20 minutes. Scrolling reels about other moms also, losing 20 minutes. Could revisit efficiency at bedtime routine, which now spans from 7:00 PM to approximately eternity. Category three, creative problem solving.

You are the MacGyver of motherhood. Give you a broken toy, one wet wipe, and some snacks, and you will invent a full activity, some shining moments. You engineered a Halloween costume out of a paper bag, duct tape, and unmatched socks. You solved dinner crises with a combo of frozen waffles and shredded cheese, that is

two food groups [00:06:00] represented. You created makeshift car entertainment systems with a lollipop and a paperclip. Now here are some areas for growth. You relied heavily on screen time during 5:00 PM meltdowns, but who doesn't? Still hasn't figured out how to prevent kids from needing to poop the moment you sit down to eat. Category four, conflict resolution, you manage more disputes than a small country ranging from whose turn is it to push the elevator button to who touched whose elbow. Here are some shining moments.

You skillfully deescalated cereal box standoff with compromise and distraction. You remained neutral during the epic who touched my marker Standoff. You occasionally mediate toddler and partner disputes with equal diplomacy. You used distraction, humor, and a granola bar to prevent total meltdowns in aisle nine. And some areas for growth. [00:07:00] Needs to resist. Urge to yell. Everybody stop has been known to snap. I don't care who started it. When you very much care. Maybe slightly biased in sibling disputes, usually toward the quieter child. Category five. Self-care and emotional regulation. Now, here's where it gets real, because moms don't get performance reviews on this stuff, but we should.

Here are what could be some of your shining moments. Took a full 15 minutes to read a book while the kids were occupied and you didn't feel too guilty about it. Recognized personal overwhelm and actually took a break instead of powering through that's growth. Actually drank water before noon, said no to something you didn't have capacity for.

Modeled emotional expression by saying, I'm feeling frustrated instead of snapping. And now some areas for growth still [00:08:00] defaults to, I'll just do it myself instead of asking for help. Still feels guilty for taking time alone. Occasionally forgets to eat lunch until it's dinner time. Internal monologue still sounds like a Real Housewives reunion. Special some days. Now let's add one more section. Soul Care. This isn't just the surface level me time, but the stuff that makes you feel like you, some of your shining moments.

You listened to a podcast that had nothing to do with parenting just because you wanted to, you revisited a hobby even if it was only for 10 minutes and you were interrupted 12 times. Remembered a piece of yourself from before kids and smiled. Some areas of growth. Still putting your own joy last on the list.

Forgot what lights you up, but that spark isn't gone. It's just buried under the laundry. Now. Some bonus awards most [00:09:00] improved. Finally asked for help instead of pretending to have it all together. Best new initiative introduced quiet time for the whole house, and it worked for six minutes, but that still counts.

And then above and beyond held it together when everyone else lost it, including the dog.

Now here's what I want you to take from all of this. Yes, it's silly. Yes, it's exaggerated, but underneath it there's truth because we're all doing all of these things every single day and we're doing them without formal feedback, without a boss telling us, Hey, I see you. That was amazing. You are doing a great job.

Instead, we're often left wondering if we're doing enough or doing it right or doing it better than yesterday, but you are doing enough. And while there will always be things to improve on, motherhood is not a job with perfect marks. It's a relationship. And your kids don't need a [00:10:00] flawless mom. They need you just the way you are.

If this episode made you laugh or smile, or just feel a little more seen, please do me a favor and share it with a mom who needs a midweek morale boost. And if you've got your own imaginary mom reviews to add, tag me on Instagram at Mom Identity Project. I love to hear your stories.

Make sure you're subscribed to the podcast and leave a five star rating and a review or a comment if you're enjoying what you're listening to. It really makes a difference in helping the podcast find other moms just like you. Now in the next episode, I wanna get into how we can prevent losing ourselves in motherhood. Until then, take some time for yourself and remember, you are an amazing mom just the way you are.