What We Actually Mean When We Say: “I Can’t. I Have My Kid.”

I didn’t always get it. 

Before I had a kid of my own in my (mumbles) mid-thirties, I thought people who said something to the effect of “I can’t—I have my kid” were awesome parents, and also just maybe being sliiiightly precious. Not dramatic, exactly. Just vague. From a lifetime of being conditioned to multi-task, this felt like one more thing to…well…combine?

But now, I have a daughter who is 20 months old. I work from home in a full-time role with full-time care, and still: some days, holding the boundary of “I can’t, I have my kid” feels like a small emotional rebellion.

It’s not just about pickup time. Or childcare hours. It’s about how much is really packed into that one sentence—and how hard it can be to say it when you're the only parent on the team.

👉 It’s Not About the Kid. It’s About the Mental Burden.

“I have my kid” can mean:

• I’m covering for a nap that didn’t happen.

• My childcare hours are ending while you’re nudging a calendar invite into 5:30 PM.

• I’m choosing not to reschedule the sitter again for a one-line update that could wait 12 hours.

It also means:

• I am the backup plan.

• I am the buffer between an OK day and a meltdown.

• I am the one who has to protect the margin, because if I don’t, no one else will.

👉 The Guilt Doesn’t Always Come From Managers

Sometimes the guilt doesn’t come from what people say—but what they don’t.

A year ago, before my organization went through a major reshuffle, I worked on a team full of other parents and therefore I felt much less hesitant to decline late meetings or block time for pickup. We all had a shared understanding.

Now, I’m the only parent on my team. Everyone else seems to start firing off email at 7:30, or will log back on at night. Everyone else says yes to the last-minute meeting shifts. I actually work with really kind humans, and I know they don't mean to make me feel like I’m doing less.

But I still feel it.

And it's been a bit painful to acknowledge how I used to reinforce that culture before I had kids: being the one who was always available, always flexible, always ready to pick up the slack.

Now, I’m trying to unlearn that — while holding the line for my family and trying to model something better.

👉 Boundaries Aren’t Just for You. They’re for the Next Parent, Too.

The best support I’ve ever gotten wasn’t someone saying, “Take all the time you need.”

It was someone saying “I’m logging off at 4:30 for pickup — let’s wrap this up.”

It was seeing a Slack status that read “Daycare pickup. Back tomorrow.” with no apology attached.

It was hearing someone say “That time doesn’t work for me” and letting that be enough.

That kind of modeling doesn’t just help me. It makes it safer for the next parent to say what they need, too.

And that advice applies to me, too, on the days I need to be the first one to say it.

👉 Scripts I’ve Actually Used (and Reused)

Here are a few I keep in my back pocket — not to defend my time, but to simply state it.

Feel free to steal them, adapt them, or turn them into Slack shortcuts. It's worth saying you can always remove the kid/family mentions of these, but I feel like it's flexing a muscle to practice specifically mentioning my personal need(s):

🔹 “I’m offline after 4:30 today to pickup my kid. Can we find a time tomorrow morning instead?”

🔹 “That time overlaps with childcare. Want to drop questions in Slack or look for a slot tomorrow?”

🔹 “Quick heads up: I’m around until 5 today, then signing off for family time. Looping in [name] for anything urgent.”

🔹 “Just a reminder that I’m out during that window with my toddler — happy to follow up async or reschedule.”

None of these are groundbreaking. And yes, they imply that your job even provides any level of flexibility. But saying them — and meaning them — has changed how I show up at work and at home.

👉 If You're a Manager, Here's the Best Thing You Can Do

Don’t just say you support boundaries. Model them.

Say what you’re doing after work.

Block your calendar for your own family.

Resist the reflex to move things “just 30 minutes later.”

You don’t need to explain your entire life. You just need to signal that it matters.

Because when you show that life outside of work is something to protect, not just accommodate, you give your team permission to do the same.

And if you're a parent reading this, remember: saying “I have my kid” isn’t an excuse.

It’s a signal that your time matters. That your margin matters. That you matter.