By 9 a.m., my daughter and I are in our “office,” which includes two laptops, two mugs of tea, and one very persistent cat who wants in and out of the front door all day.
My daughter is 21 and working her first corporate internship remotely. I’m a college writing professor teaching summer courses online.
Our home’s screened-in porch has become a workplace for the two of us — where we clock hours, share space, and learn how to work side by side.
Our work-from-home arrangement wasn’t planned, but it feels like a modern extension of Take Your Daughter to Work Day — only it’s all summer long. And it’s working for us.
Working side-by-side is something new for us
My four children grew up watching me teach online from this same porch, long before Zoom meetings became a daily phrase in most households. They instinctively learned when to be quiet or when to step around my laptop.
Over the years, they saw me not just as a mom, but as a professional — someone who led meetings, answered emails, and managed her own schedule.
But now, my daughter sits next to me. Only this time she’s not watching, she’s working.
My husband and son retrimmed the porch and replaced the screen just to make the space more comfortable for us. Now it feels like a real office. We sip tea in parallel silence, break for lunch at the same time, and check in after meetings.
There’s a rhythm to it: dragonflies buzz on the screen, mourning doves coo, the fan spins.
We rarely interrupt each other, but when we do, it’s for something worthwhile: a second opinion on a tricky email, a “did you hear about this?” or just a laugh about office dynamics.
We both benefit from the shared space
My daughter and I aren’t just coexisting; we’re partnering. I give her space to do her job, and she respects mine. In the process, we’re learning how to be adults together, as peers.
That shift has felt real for us this summer. My daughter doesn’t need me to structure her day or check in on her progress. But she’s learning how to balance screen time with self-care, how to navigate ambiguous instructions, and how to read between the lines in professional emails.
She’s learning adulting skills, and I’m learning to let go.
Working together has fast-tracked a whole set of skills that some jobs can’t teach remotely, too: how to share space, communicate boundaries, and respect different working styles. She’s learning how to manage her time and energy in a professional setting. I’m learning to stop giving advice unless she asks for it.
I’m celebrating this new phase of our relationship
The impact has been subtle but powerful for us. My daughter sees my professional life up close, and I see her step into her own. Watching her work gives me a front-row seat to the person she’s becoming: smart, capable, and focused in a way I admire.
We don’t always talk about it, but we feel it. And we carry it.
When the summer ends, and she heads back to campus for her senior year, I’ll miss this: the soft thrum of her keyboard, the way she glances up just to check in, the calm assurance that we’ve found a rhythm not just for work, but for a new stage of our relationship.
On our porch, amid the occasional package delivery and the murmur of email alerts, something else is unfolding: not just the workdays of two professionals, but a portal into the next phase of parenting and adulthood.
I wouldn’t trade that for a corner office.