Being a woman in tech often means navigating fast-paced change, solving complex problems, and constantly learning. For many women, this journey also includes another full-time role: being a mother.
Balancing a tech career with raising children isn’t a polished fairytale — it’s a beautifully chaotic reality, filled with moments that are funny, stressful, touching, and unforgettable.
Whether you’re a mother, hope to become one, or have chosen a different path entirely — we invite you to read, smile, relate, and celebrate with us. Because the future of tech is brighter when it reflects the full diversity of women’s lives.
Years ago, I had recurring forecast calls that always seemed to line up perfectly with school pickup time. So I’d hop into the car, headset on, kids in the back, multitasking like a true mom-in-IT.
My daughter Isa, who was about five years old back then, knew she had to be quiet during these calls. And for the most part, she did an amazing job.
But one day, as we were driving to the beach, I heard her whispering to her older brother in the backseat. In her best grown-up voice, she said:
«Oswaldo, please tell me how your week went and how things are going with opportunity X. Did you manage to close it? What did the decision-maker say? We really need to bring this in by June.»
I nearly choked trying not to laugh. My daughter had been listening so closely to my calls that she basically turned into a mini sales executive.
Just imagine how closely our children watch us. Every meeting, every tone of voice, every task — they absorb it all. And if they’re going to copy us, what a gift it is to show them things like work ethic, focus, and empathy.
I work remotely most of the week while raising my two sons, Alexandre and Lucas. Alexandre, who’s four, has already learned the golden rule: when Mom and Dad are on work calls, it’s «quiet time.»
But as any parent knows, rules exist... until something extraordinary happens.
One afternoon, in the middle of a video call, Alexandre burst into the room with eyes full of excitement. «Mommy! Mommy! You have to see this! There’s a DOUBLE RAINBOW!» he shouted, ignoring the dozen faces on my screen.
Then he proceeded to greet my colleagues, share a random fun fact about dinosaurs, and ask whether anyone else liked mangoes.
What could I say? He made everyone smile. And honestly, in that moment, I was proud — not just of the rainbow, but of being able to raise a curious, enthusiastic child while still doing work I love.
There were days when working from home with my little one felt like a game of hide and seek — except I was the one hiding.
Even with a babysitter, my son only wanted to be near me. So I did what any desperate working mom might do: I turned the bathroom into my temporary office.
It was the only quiet space where I could get through meetings without background chaos.
Working in IT is already fast-paced and stressful, but doing it with a toddler climbing on you adds a whole new level of complexity. Still, those very challenges have made me stronger, more adaptable, and even more focused. I’m proud of the professional — and the mother — I’ve become.
As a brand-new mom, working from home has turned into quite the adventure.
My daughter is only eleven months old, but already has a solid presence in the corporate world. She joins most of my video calls uninvited, usually announcing herself with a series of enthusiastic «ba-ba-ba» sounds. If there’s an important conversation happening, you can bet she’ll chime in with commentary.
She’s especially fascinated by different voices and accents — I swear she’s already learning to mimic them. My sisters joke that when she’s twenty, she’ll be able to say she has two decades of experience in cybersecurity, because she’s been eavesdropping on my meetings since infancy.
Honestly, this whole experience hasn’t been easy. Balancing motherhood with a demanding job takes more energy than I thought I had. But I’m incredibly grateful for the flexibility my workplace gives me — it means I don’t have to choose between my daughter’s milestones and my career goals as a woman.
Back during the pandemic, we were having endless team calls with our colleagues. One day, I stepped away from my computer for just a few minutes to grab something from the kitchen. When I came back, I froze.
Sitting calmly at my desk was my 4-year-old daughter, engaged in what appeared to be a very confident conversation with our CEO.
She had somehow managed to call him. Not a colleague. Not IT support. The actual CEO.
To his credit, Eugene Kaspersky — being a father of several kids himself — handled it with incredible grace. He didn’t panic or hang up. He spoke to her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Meanwhile, little Polina suddenly realized she might have done something... big. Her eyes widened, and she looked truly terrified, like she had seen a ghost.
We all laugh about it now, but I don’t think she’ll ever touch my laptop again without asking.
They say your first child turns your world upside down — and I’d say it turns your life into a real-time strategy game with surprise boss levels. It wasn’t just a daily challenge; it felt like a high-stakes mission. Every hour demanded careful planning: nanny schedules, team meetings, teething crises, doctor appointments, exciting new projects — it all had to be predicted, synced, and slotted into the calendar like a puzzle.
One day, my son caught a cold and I had to work from home. Like many moms in similar situations, I tried to do it all — calls, email, child care. I left him in the playroom, surrounded by what I thought was enough toys to keep him busy for hours.
After about an hour and a half of intense work calls, I went to check on him and discovered that he had joyfully decorated the entire wall with markers.
Earlier this year, I was on an important video call with a journalist, discussing a complex topic for an upcoming interview. We were deep in conversation when, out of nowhere, my 2.5-year-old daughter stormed in and said:
«Mom, give me a hug! Mom, can I have some candy?»
Before I could say a word, she climbed into my lap, hugging me tightly and completely derailing my train of thought.
I felt awkward and embarrassed, expecting a sigh or a frown from the journalist. But instead, he smiled and started chatting with her, explaining — quite kindly — that too much candy could be bad for her teeth.
That moment made something click for me. We try so hard to separate our «professional» and «personal» lives, but maybe we shouldn’t. That moment of interruption wasn’t a flaw — it was a beautiful, honest glimpse of what real life looks like.
