Merge Conflicts of the Working Parent
From the perspective of a software developer parent. When the efforts as a parent and the expectations as the employee don’t align. When you can’t be in two places at once. When you have no choice but to try and do both jobs at the same time.
Currently working on two features: Parenting and Career. The sprints are daily and steadfast. The acceptance criteria are thorough and non-negotiable.
Feeling confident during stand-up. Adding in requirements. Testing the solution and yielding passing results. Not experiencing blockers.
I’m holding the underwear and pointing — “this is the front”. Supporting a typical two-second process of putting on one’s underwear that is taking 30 seconds, sometimes even a minute or two if both legs end up through the same hole. Encouraging the effort with “almost”s, “good job”s, and “I’m so proud of you”s. I’m validating the end result by checking the waistband.
I’m early to meetings to build relationships and participate in weather and weekend update small talk. I’m taking notes. I’m actively listening. I’m participating in the chat. Shoot — I even have my camera on today.
I’m killing it!
Phone call: “Ma’am, your child is running a fever and showing symptoms of an infection or a virus. Your child must see a physician and cannot return until being fever-free for 24 hours without medication. You need to pick your child up from the center as soon as possible.”
The features are colliding. The Career feature is now blocked by the Parenting feature. Message: Please resolve merge conflict.
Merge conflict.
Accept Current Change | Accept Incoming Change | Accept Both Changes | Compare Changes
Accept Both Changes. Now I’m listening in on the architecture meeting from the car bluetooth. I’m rubbing a miniature back with one hand and typing with the other. I’m using headphones and cancelling out the background noise of Dory saying, “just keep swimming,” as eyelids become heavy.
Merge conflicts can be timely. Merge conflicts require a slowdown. Merge conflicts require more energy and attention to detail.
Conflicts are resolved, and progress begins again.
I’m creating the pull request and responding to comments on it. I’m answering new team member’s questions on the slack channel. I’m dropping links to Confluence pages with walkthrough directions. I’m reading company updates from the newsletter email.
I’m dodging the firetruck zooming towards my feet. I’m cutting star, and heart-shaped pieces of yellow Play-Doh. I’m bunching my legs together before going down the slide because if I was extended then my feet would already be at the bottom.
Momentum.
New calendar invite: “Bonding Event at Blue Sports Bar from 5:30–7:30 this Wednesday”
Fridge calendar for this Wednesday: “Band Recital at 6 pm”
Merge conflict. Parenting feature is now blocking the Career feature. Message: Please resolve merge conflict.
Accept Current Change. Drafting up my excuse email for why I’m missing the 7th company event in a row. Throwing on a nice blouse and shining up the trumpet. Slack notifications coming in with pictures of the team playing darts and laughing. From the back of the gymnasium, trying to pick out my child who is sitting in the fifth row while hiding my cringe at the misplayed notes of Queen’s “Killer Queen”.
Merge conflicts require decisions. Merge conflicts don’t always complement each other. Merge conflicts can be costly with long-lasting bugs.
Pressing forward.
I’m sounding out the word “bu-bu-ter-fly…butterfly” and making the motion of wings flapping with my hands. I’m playing catch. I’m “8–9–10, ready or not, here I come!”
I’m given the opportunity and responsibility to present to the client on behalf of the team. I prepare. I practice. I enhance the PowerPoint. I seek to review and implement suggestions.
The meeting time is finally set. It is going to begin 30 minutes before the well-child doctor visit that was set up months ago.
Merge conflict.
Accept Incoming Change. Notifying the other parent that they have to rearrange their schedule to make the doctor's appointment. Performing the practiced presentation where the audience isn’t present at all. Texting the other parent questions to ask the pediatrician. No questions are raised during the “pause for questions”. No feedback on the new suggestions.
Reminding the parent to get a copy of the new shots record before leaving the office. Experiencing microphone unmutes behind no-camera-participants with subtle “thank you”s at the end of the meeting. Greeting my child as he/she arrives home with the bright Elmo bandaids on both legs. My child turns away from me to cuddle the other parent because I wasn’t the one there to comfort the pain of the shots.
End of the day. Retro.
What Went Well | Things to Improve | Action Items
What went well — efforts and intention.
Things to improve — create a robot doppelgänger of myself to work on one feature while I work on the other.
Action items — address the question: can both of these features make it into the minimal viable product?
