Business at the Dinner Table: Happy National Caregivers Month

“I don’t want to go to sleep. My room is too dark and too sunny.”

That was my three-year-old’s logic at bedtime recently—equal parts poetic and practical, and a reflection of the swirl of changes our family has been riding this fall. My eldest started kindergarten. My youngest began preschool (so: potty training!), graduated from her crib, and—perhaps the biggest transition—we just said goodbye to our beloved nanny after more than five years.

I tried to meter the changes out, thinking it would make each one easier. But instead, there was always another shoe about to drop: Will preschool drop-off be chaos? Will she refuse school in the morning? Is today the day the potty training slips? Even when things went fine, I paced and overanalyzed. My husband wondered why I was so anxious when the girls seemed to take it all in stride. For them, the change was big but doable. For me, every transition set off a fresh round of “what ifs.”

In therapy (big fan over here), I started to see the gap between how I approach change at home and at work. At Pinterest, my instinct is, “Let’s try it! If it doesn’t work, we’ll learn and iterate.” Change is an experiment there, not a threat. That mindset reassures my team and, honestly, me too. Progress, not perfection, is the goal.

So why, after all this practice, does it feel so much harder to bring that same resilience and curiosity home? For years, I’ve worked to bring my “whole self” to work—embracing vulnerability, making mistakes safe, showing humanity. But at home, I still default to troubleshooting every outcome, missing the space and grace I encourage at the office.

Growing up, my dad brought his work home enthusiastically. He brought home lessons that “being right is the easy part; helping people understand and believe you is the real challenge,” and he drilled home the power of honest feedback, given and received with care.

Now, as both manager and caregiver, I can see how those lessons cross borders, even if imperfectly. Patience at home; flexibility at work. Trying, failing, and trying again: useful on project teams and with preschoolers alike. When my daughters hit a wall, I find myself coaching them just as I would a teammate, reframing a mistake as learning rather than failure.

The truth is, the boundaries between caregiving and leading are porous, and the flow of growth goes both ways. If you’re a fellow caregiver, in any form, I hope you’ll remember: blending these worlds is not only natural, it’s valuable. At Pinterest, we celebrate this kind of learning, wherever it starts—and we’re all better for it.

Here’s to making progress through every next transition, together.