A Day in the Life: The Messy Chaos of a Founder/Mom

I don’t set an alarm. I either open my eyes at 7 a.m. like my body knows, or I jolt awake at 7:32 in a panic, swearing today is the day we’ll be late. It’s a gamble I never seem to learn from, but I play it anyway.

The morning is choreographed chaos as I wake everyone up: Cece first, Juliet second, Sofia last. Three girls, three different tempos. Somewhere between reminders about homework, water bottles, and volleyball knee pads, I whisk my matcha, or I order it for mobile pickup which I stopped feeling guilty about long ago (sorry Zack). Breakfast isn’t really a meal in our house because no one is hungry yet. A bite of toast here, a granola bar in a backpack there.

I hope she isn’t mad at me for posting this photo when she’s a teen. May delete later.

By 7:45 (ish), we’re out the door. Once I drop off the younger girls, it’s just me and Sofia, my high schooler. I love that quiet car time with her … sometimes it’s a real conversation, sometimes it’s silence. Both feel like a win.

After I drop her off, I turn on The Daily podcast. If Michael Barbaro’s voice is my co-pilot, it’s going to be a decent morning.

Zack is a really involved Dad. I’m lucky. He is always present and always willing to lend a hand with morning drop offs or afternoon shuffles. As two entrepreneurs, our schedules have evolved into having some flexibility for work/life balance even though it’s not our default speeds. He goes into an office every day but Saint Jane is remote so I work from home in my little office.

Zack’s favorite: A home made (versus mobile ordered) Matcha

One morning a week I walk the Strand with Jenny, our COO. She and her family moved here after losing their home in the January fires, a brutal adjustment she carries with so much grace. We talk about the business, yes, but also kids, life, the way you rebuild after something unthinkable. Founders love to say it’s lonely at the top. I’ve never believed that. It’s only lonely if you don’t let anyone walk beside you.

Weekly walks with our COO Jenny Morrow

A couple mornings a week, I’ll go on walks with friends … fellow moms who are also in the thick of it. We trade updates on life. There’s laughter, sometimes tears, and always the reminder that none of us are doing this alone. Those walks are definitely therapy in sneakers.

And then there’s Dany who keeps the wheels on when schedules collide, when someone forgets knee pads or homework, when I’m double-booked. There’s no universe in which I could build Saint Jane and raise three daughters without her.

Back at my desk with half a matcha left to go, the world compresses into emails, Zooms, retailer calls, founder friends filling me in on what’s next in beauty. I never know what each day will bring. The roller coaster is REAL. Some days I clear my inbox (and it’s the best feeling ever) and other days I realize it’s noon and I’m still in my pajamas.

Lunch is improvised — yogurt with fruit if I’m virtuous, a Chipotle burrito if I’m not. I fantasize about being the person with neat containers of quinoa and roasted vegetables stacked in the fridge. Instead, I’m the person who stares at the shelves and negotiates with protein bars and snacks.

I don't look like this most days, * Photo Cred: Lauri Levenfeld

By 4:30 p.m., my brain is pretty mushy. I break with a quick treadmill walk or drive to another sports practice. These drives with the girls, and sidelines with other moms have become my happy place. I used to insist on family dinners every night. Now I understand that this is dinner … the carpool chatter, the sideline clapping. When we do gather around the table, with friends or family filling the house, it feels like such a treat.

The nights unwind slowly. Cece curls in to read A Wrinkle in Time. Juliet pulls me into her world of homework or insists I watch whatever show she’s decided I’ll love. (The Queen’s Gambit, recently: so much brilliance, so much ache.) Sofia is usually still bent over her laptop doing homework long after I’ve closed my eyes. Zack is already asleep half the time, up at 4:30a to chase endorphins at the gym. I need nine hours; he survives on six. Not sure how that’s fair.

By 10 p.m., I’m done. I do one more check of my inbox since I often work with overseas vendors on different time zones. Most nights 60 Minutes or the news is still murmuring in the background. Sometimes I just let the house hum around me as I give in to sleep.

The weekends are their own messy chaos: Friday night sushi, Sports Saturdays, a Date Night or dinner with friends sprinkled in if we’re lucky.

When I write it out, my life looks ordinary. Wake up, work, kids, dinner, sleep. But in the margins, there’s meaning: the way Juliet tells me something in the car she wouldn’t share anywhere else, the way Cece curls up with a book, the way Jenny and I untangle work and life over a Strand walk.

That’s the truth about building a company and raising a family at the same time — it’s not about balance. It’s about noticing the good stuff as it flashes by.

Testing new products in Zach's office, *Photo Cred: Jenny Morrow