Forget 9-to-5. Mothering knows no schedule—often it feels more like 5-to-9 and everything in between. In this series, we look at the hectic, messy, sometimes beautiful, often frustrating enterprise of being a mother—and maintaining a life of your own. Consider it a “day in the life” for the forgotten hours.
Today, we’re following Megan Fairchild at a particularly poignant moment: she is in the final days of her nearly 25-year career with New York City Ballet. Long celebrated for her crystalline technique and steadfast presence in the Balanchine repertory, Fairchild is preparing to take her final bow in Coppélia before retiring from the stage and relocating with her husband and three daughters to Bordeaux, France.
But offstage, Fairchild’s days look less like a prima ballerina’s and more like that of any mother juggling school drop-offs, mismatched socks, lunchbox demands, and physical exhaustion. “My kids are the best part of my life,” she writes. “Nothing tops my time with them.”
Across these images and diary entries, Fairchild reflects on pointe shoes, Pilates, French lessons, cold plunges, and the realities of being what she calls “a performing working mom”—all while savoring the final stretch of a career she says she’s ready, and even excited, to leave behind.
7:00 a.m.
Photographed by OK McCausland
I wake up at 6:30 a.m., usually without an alarm, to sneak in a peaceful cup of coffee before the chaos of kids. I prop a heating pad upright in my bed and check in on the world on my phone while I wait for the coffee to kick in. From 7 to 7:45 a.m., we kind of race to get ready for school. I make breakfast for the girls and, while they’re eating, pack their lunches. I have one twin with these ridiculous lunch requests that I accommodate because it makes her so happy. The other two take bento boxes with sandwiches and little bites, while she insists on a hot lunch in a thermos, just like her friend from school.
7:15 a.m.
For breakfast we have brioche, eggs, and fruit. Harlow also requests a bowl of Froot Loops every day. I tried to get healthier versions, and no one would touch them—so again, I give in. She always drinks the milk after, so I figure it’s a wash. We are moving to France this summer and I’ve tried to prepare her for the lack of Froot Loops there, ha!
