Balancing Courtrooms and Cartoons: My Life as a Working Mom

Hi friends, Robyn here. Most people know me as a healthcare compliance attorney—someone who spends her days untangling complex regulations, advising medical professionals, and living in the fast lane of Florida’s legal world. It’s a demanding job, and I truly love it. But here’s the truth: the real challenge starts when I walk through my front door.

Because then, I’m not Attorney Robyn Sztyndor. I’m just “mom.”

I’ve argued with opposing counsel, navigated tense negotiations, and read through 300-page policy manuals. But nothing—and I mean nothing—is quite as humbling as negotiating a sensible bedtime with my daughter. She is fierce, independent, and already has an impressive skill for cross-examination when she wants “just five more minutes” before lights out.

Like many working moms, my day doesn’t end when I close my laptop. It simply shifts gears. One minute I’m on a conference call discussing federal compliance rules, and the next I’m playing dress-up. Well at least that was when she was younger. Now I have to think about the upcoming teenage years that are around the corner. 

The hardest part? The guilt. The feeling of wanting to give 110% to my career and 150% to my daughter—knowing the math doesn’t add up. I’ve learned to be present where my feet are: focused in the office, fully engaged at home. I don’t always get it perfect, but I try. My daughter is growing up watching her mom work hard, solve problems, and keep learning. That’s worth something.

Some days, I crush it. Other days, I’m reheating coffee for the third time, wondering if I’ve remembered to sign that school permission slip. The thing is whether it’s drafting a legal brief or packing a lunchbox, both roles matter. Both are part of who I am.

So, yes, I work hard in the courtroom. However, my proudest victories are the ones at home—when my daughter laughs so hard she snorts, when she shows me something she’s proud of, or when she says, “I love you, Mom,” for no reason at all.

Because at the end of the day, the title I value most isn’t “Esquire.” It’s “Mom.”