You know you’re deep into mum-life when you find yourself standing in the kitchen at 8:07am negotiating with an inanimate object.
This week, my daughter’s snack box decided it no longer wanted to live a quiet life in the school locker.
No.
It developed separation anxiety.
It clung to me.
It sat in the passenger seat of my car like a small emotional support animal.
It refused to be left anywhere without a dramatic internal meltdown (mostly mine).
And truthfully?
I felt that.
Because mums in business are doing a LOT of clinging together right now.
Between:
- the winter colds
- the endless school events
- costumes
- teacher gifts
- the elves
- dance rehearsals
- swimming lessons
- LAMDA performances
- and whatever fresh chaos our homes decide to present daily
…it’s no wonder so many women feel like their business is held together with the same emotional glue as Millie’s snack box.
And yet — somehow — we’re still expected to show up professionally, flawlessly, strategically, and consistently… often with seven minutes and a lukewarm coffee to make it happen.
This is where the 10-hour work week came from.
Not a book.
Not a productivity seminar.
Not an influencer with a perfectly curated beige home.
It came from:
- filming content while standing next to Brucey in the stable
- hiding from the blacksmith behind a hay bale so I could record a Reel
- dropping the kids at school and then realising I still hadn’t brushed my hair
- writing captions in the car while balancing a banana skin and someone’s missing shoe
- running on five hours sleep because someone coughed all night
- living in a perpetual cycle of “Who needs their PE kit?”
- and trying to run a business while also keeping everyone alive
The 10-hour work week isn’t about doing less.
It’s about finally doing the right things.
It’s about building a business that bends to real life, not one that breaks you.
It’s about saying:
“My time is the valuable thing.
My business should respect that.”
And for the high-achieving women I work with — the consultants, therapists, coaches, founders, service providers — time is the only currency that matters anymore.
Not revenue.
Not vanity metrics.
Not hustle.
Time.
Because when you’re already successful, busy, and stretched thin, the last thing you need is another unpredictable time-sucking monster disguised as a business.
You don’t need 40 hours a week.
You need systems, automation, clarity, and breathing space.
You need to know your business won’t fall apart if your child’s lunchbox decides it needs emotional support or you spend the weekend knee-deep in Christmas decorating.
The 10-hour work week doesn’t promise you a seven-figure empire.
It promises you life back.
Moments back.
Sanity back.
Time back.
And honestly?
That matters more than income ever will.
Because when you create more time — the income follows anyway.
Your energy changes.
Your clarity sharpens.
Your decisions get cleaner.
Your output gets smarter.
And your business becomes something that runs with you, not against you.
I don’t want to teach women how to grind.
I want to teach them how to breathe.
Even if their snack box is having an existential crisis.