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How to Run a Microbakery With Kids Around | Episode 132

  • Jul 2
  • 6 min read

Updated: 2 days ago

Listen on Apple Podcasts or watch on YouTube


You leave the house at four in the morning. You come home in the middle of the afternoon and the dishes from the bake are still in the sink. And somewhere in there, one of your kids comes over with something important to tell you and you hear yourself say, not right now, buddy.


That is the part nobody puts in the highlight reel, and it is the part I get asked about most. Is this fair to my kids?


So I handed the mic to my two kids, Jamey who is nine, and Lila, and asked the questions I was nervous to ask. What is hard about having a mom who bakes for a living, and have you ever wished I had a different job.


What they said changed how I run a business with children in the building, and most of the list below came from them.


Your family is a real operating constraint, so plan for it

I did not start selling bread because I had a business plan. I am gluten sensitive and I was tired of buying gluten free bread with a mile-long ingredient list, so I started baking for us. In that same season my husband and I agreed I needed to bring some income into the family. He is a firefighter, so our schedule changes constantly, and a regular job would have meant full-time daycare five days a week.


That was not the life we wanted. So I posted two extra loaves on social media, got a pile of responses, and the two of us agreed to give it four months of everything I had.


The family situation came first and the business was shaped around it. That is the right order. When you plan your bake schedule, your pickup windows and your growth, your kids are one of the inputs, not an interruption.


Ask yourself these before you set your next season's schedule:

  • How many mornings a week can I be gone before it starts costing my family something

  • Which sales channel asks the most of my family for the money it brings in

I stepped away from the farmers market and now sell only at the bakery. My kids miss being vendor children and they told me so, and it was still the right call for our week.


Build the kid setup before you need it, and treat it like a workstation

The bakery lived in our dining room for about two years. Silver table, big fridge, double oven, mixer, all of it. When I asked the kids what was hard about that season, the answer surprised me. Mostly it came down to being bored when we had not packed enough books.


That is a solvable problem, and you solve it the way you solve any other bottleneck in your bakery. You set it up once, on purpose, before the bake day starts. Here is what has worked for us in both spaces:

  • A spot that belongs to them. At home it was a corner they could retreat to, and Jamey could go play Legos when he needed a break. At the shop we turned the walk-in closet into a fort and reading nook with a fold-up mattress and pillows.

  • A bin of activities that only comes out on bake days. Special toys they do not see the rest of the week make coming to work with me feel like a treat.

  • Plenty of paper, craft supplies, magazines and books. Both of my kids named paper first, which I did not expect.

  • More snacks than you think you need. Something about the bakery makes them want to eat all day long.

  • Desks of their own. Jamey and Lila hand painted theirs.

Lila's own suggestion was to move the racks up in a storage closet so a mattress and some books fit underneath. If you have no closet to spare, a beanbag chair and a dedicated bin will do the job.


Give them a real job

When the bakery was at home, my kids wrote customer names on the bags, sometimes in cursive with a little heart. Customers loved it, and so did they. At the shop they put labels on bags, break down recycling boxes, collect rosemary, and once I paid them a dollar each to unwrap about three dozen spatulas. They finished that job faster than any employee I have ever had.


A job gives them a reason to be there, gives you fifteen minutes of hands, and makes them part of what you are building instead of a guest in it. If your little ones are too young for a real task, give them a pretend one. Labels that never go on a bag still feel like a job.


When they are old enough to be near the dough, my kids can recite the rules better than I can. Hair up, wash your hands, and no painted fingernails.


The hard parts, named out loud

I pushed for the hard parts, and what they named was specific and fair.


Big market weeks were lonely. I would start early, finish late, then get up before dawn and not walk back in until mid-afternoon. Even with their dad home, one of them felt the gap.


Waiting is hard, and both of them brought up sitting outside waiting on me for twenty minutes. Being told to come back later stings too. Jamey understands why I have to say it, but when the thing he wants to tell me feels urgent to him, it makes him a little sad.


Then I asked whether they had ever wished I had a normal job, gone from eight to five. The answer was no, not once. What Jamey actually wanted was for me to be home a little earlier on the late nights.


That is a much smaller problem than the one I had been carrying around in my head, and it is one I can schedule around.


If you are a few years in, this is a systems problem

For those of you past the hobby stage with real revenue coming in, the family squeeze usually shows up as an operations problem wearing a guilt costume. Two of my own hardest problems right now are exactly that. One is baking the right amount so I serve the community without throwing product away. The other is asking for help, which sounds silly until you realize that after years of working alone every single process lives in my head. Building a team means getting those processes onto paper so somebody else can carry part of the load.


Every hour you spend documenting a process is an hour you buy back later, and it is the most direct path I know from working every waking minute to being home for dinner. Start with the task you repeat most and write it down while you do it.


They understand the point better than I realized

I asked the kids what they imagine our customers do with the bread. One of them walked across the room and pointed at the sign on our wall with Acts 2:46 on it, about breaking bread in their homes and eating together with glad and sincere hearts. That was the answer. They know people take that bread home and sit down with someone they love, which is exactly why I keep conversation cards on the shelf. They also know why people choose us over the grocery store: it was made by someone they know, with local ingredients, by hand.


Jamey told me he has thought about him and Lila taking over the bakery one day, and their kids after that, because the regulars would be sad if it went away. He is nine, and he already sees it!


Final thoughts

If the mornings are early, the dish pile is enormous, and you are keeping a running list of everything you are missing, here is what I would do this week.


Ask your kids the two questions I asked mine. What is hard about this, and what is special about it. Then stay quiet long enough to let them answer, even if it is uncomfortable. My guess is the hard list is shorter and far more fixable than the one you have been imagining. Then let them pick one job in your kitchen this week.


Building this business is a lot of work, the hours are long, and the work is worth it. Our kids are watching us do hard things on purpose, and that is a good thing for them to see.


Cheering you on,


Caroline


Keep going

If this one hit home, these three go deeper on baking with a family in the house.


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