Yes.
In the early days of Salt City Soapworks, I was blissfully absorbed in formulation and R&D, determined to create skincare products from a short list of high-quality, nature-derived ingredients. I blinked. A year passed. Suddenly, half my kids were taller than me.
It broke my heart and nearly my business dreams. I didn’t want to miss these years. But before walking away from Salt City Soapworks, I tried something new: bring my kids in. I gave them tasks. They weren’t interested. So, I tried an offshoot - not tasks, but stories. I started sharing my failures of the day.
They were hooked.
As I talked about a botched batch of soap batter that seized before I could pour it into molds, or how jammed labels made me want to drop-kick our printer off the side of a mountain, the stories that once ended with my chin dropping my chest as I held back tears soon turned into shrugs of acceptance.
Months later, something unexpected happened: one child shared a “failed” moment at school - and wasn’t as upset as usual. Then another child did the same. Laughter crept in as we found humor in their tender stories. A deeper sense of success, greater than any business win, settled within me. Failure was becoming normal - not feared, but valued.
Then came offers to help. Small at first - tying bows on gift boxes - then bigger: selling for hours with me at holiday markets, handling vendor setup and takedown. As we worked together, we shared observations, gathered lessons, and the hard parts of a startup became a draw - they meant learning, improving, innovating. Slowly, Salt City Soapworks became more than just my business. It became our family business.
