From Scope Creep to Shaved Ice: What My Little Stakeholders Taught Me

As a project manager, I’m used to defining clear goals, managing timelines, and navigating conflicting stakeholder interests. But nothing quite prepared me for last weekend’s family “project.” The task? Plan a nice, relaxing Sunday activity. The challenge? Satisfy three very different stakeholders: my three kids—ages 3, 4, and (almost) 11.

Up until now, this kind of thing wasn’t a big deal. We’d choose something fun, pack a picnic, and head out. But this weekend, reality hit me like a forgotten banana at the bottom of a backpack. My tween daughter looked at me with a sigh that could level a small building and said, “The zoo? Again? Moooom, I’ve been there, like, a thousand times.” Meanwhile, her younger siblings were already squealing about monkeys, kangaroos, and possibly a unicorn.

Cue the stakeholder conflict.

After some negotiations, we finally found a compromise and ended up having a lovely day. But that evening, the project manager in me couldn’t help reflecting on what had just happened. This wasn’t just a family outing—it was scope management in action, complete with contradictory objectives, evolving requirements, and tight emotional budgets.

The truth is, the age gaps in our family aren’t going anywhere—there will always be 5.5 years between the oldest and middle child, and 7.5 between the oldest and youngest. But the way that gap affects our plans? That’s constantly changing. What worked a year ago doesn’t work now. The little ones are ready to explore the world with big eyes and endless energy, while the eldest is officially over anything that smells remotely like “educational for toddlers.”

And here’s the kicker: not every outing can be a 100% satisfaction success story. And that’s okay. Sometimes, the activity will lean more toward the little ones. Next time, it’ll be more for our oldest. We try to balance things out with little add-ons—like a stop for ice cream or a short detour to a place one of them really loves.

One thing we installed for us some time back is creating dedicated “one-kid-at-a-time” moments. Every now and then, one of us spends time with just one child—no siblings, no distractions, just quality time and full attention. Once in a while it can be something special, but it can also just be a coffee shop hot chocolate, or a solo trip to the playground. Luckily, school and kindergarten don’t follow the same calendar for us, so organizing these mini one-on-one adventures isn’t too tricky. That evening, I realized what a game-changer those one-on-one moments can actually be. And funnily enough, that “mom & me” day I had with my eldest the week before? That gave me some serious negotiation leverage for that zoo visit. She was still not thrilled, but when I reminded her what we just did a couple of days back she still rolled her eyes—but with just a little less drama.

Because compromise is key. That’s certainly not failure—that’s family and actually a great lesson to learn. And surprisingly, even my eldest had a good time in the zoo with her siblings (though it was very hard for her to admit it). She even declared the ice cream was “actually quite good,” which in tween-speak is basically a standing ovation.

So from now on, I’ll keep managing these outings like mini-projects—with flexible scope, rotating priorities, and enough buffer time and a big portion of patience to weather a few emotional curveballs. No Gantt chart required—just a little empathy, creativity, and maybe a well-timed scoop of strawberry shaved ice.