Stop being nice with your time
Why mothers in leadership need to do the math
“I just hate paying this salary,” she said. “It feels like such a waste.”
I was talking to the chief executive officer of a non-profit. She was frustrated about an employee who had become a drain on the organization. She felt like she had to spend all day with this person just to get them to do their job.
I stopped her. “Actually, that salary is a drop in the bucket compared to what the organization is wasting by having you babysit this person.”
She looked confused.
“You are the most valuable resource this company has,” I continued. “If you’re spending significant time on something that doesn’t need your expertise, that’s the real waste. It’s your responsibility as an executive to be extremely disciplined about your time.”
I could see it click. This wasn’t about being nice or patient or understanding. This was about dollars and cents. It was about being responsible with the institution’s resources.
In my leadership coaching work with heads of school, I do this exercise all the time. I ask: How much is it costing for you to show up at the admin team meeting?
This is eye-opening for people.
In many cases, if the head of school shows up at the admin team meeting, the school’s investment in that meeting doubles.
This principle applies beyond the workplace.
I used to think being a good leader—and a good mother—meant being available. Patient. Willing to help with whatever came up.
Then I did the math.
As an educator, I was paid annually. No overtime. No hourly rate printed on my contract. It took me actually sitting down with a calculator to figure out what my time was worth per hour.
Once I knew that number, everything changed.
I became more disciplined about where I put my time. Not because I was trying to be “transactional” or “cold” or “hierarchical.” But because I realized that my time is a finite resource. And how I spend it matters—not just for me, but for everyone who depends on me.
Including my family.
All of a sudden, I caught myself folding laundry while my kids were watching YouTube.
“Hey! Come over here. I’m going to teach you how to fold laundry.”
Why was I doing a $10 task when I could be teaching a life skill? Or resting?
Letting my teen take an Uber rather than me driving her felt like a savings rather than an expense.
The weekly housekeeper that had felt like an indulgence suddenly felt more like good financial sense.
Time is money.
I hadn’t been trained to think about the value of my time. But once I started quantifying it, I couldn’t unsee it.
I realized it wasn’t about being nice (or not nice), it was about being responsible with my most precious resource.
Want to calculate your hourly rate?
Here's a super simple calculator based on an annual salary.
And don’t forget benefits! In my case, when I factored in health insurance, retirement contributions, and tuition remission, my hourly rate more than doubled.
What about you?
What are you doing that someone else could do—or that doesn’t need to be done at all?
What would you do if you had more time?
🕊️
SAM
