As I'm attempting to put together a FAQ's page, I'm taking a couple of walks down memory lane to answer the questions fans have been asking me since I started Miss Party Mom. I gotta say, these walks are rather humbling... and I just feel like sharing more personally my journey to being a Momma... who is currently a party planner and party/lifestyle blogger. We all have stories and an interesting set of decisions that led us to becoming a mom, either a "working" mom or one who stays at home. Here is mine.
In High School I decided I wanted to design clothing, so I went to college for that very degree. I was that college girl who wanted a career and scoffed at the idea of children. I was a little too busy for the role of serving little needy people... I was dead set on being a fashion designer, and fashion designers care about clothing... not wiping butts.
Upon graduating I was offered a job by the company I'd been interning for since I was 17 years old... I liked the work and felt like it would be a great jumping-off point for me. I mean, fashion designers all need to start somewhere... designing for a fashion icon like Miss Barbie herself didn't seem like a bad start.
I began at Mattel as a temp employee. I was 21 and no company is dumb enough to hire a 21-year-old fresh out of college whose only other job had been bagging groceries at a grocery store. But six months later, I was moved from temp employee to Associate Designer. I was on top of the world. Designing dolls wasn't so bad actually: I was starting to travel... Business Class style and figured I could get really used to that.
![]() |
| Co-designer on the first line of Fairytopia |
![]() |
| My Scene by Kenna O'Brien |
But when the paycheck is coming in and the bonus quickly follows, and the lifestyle is in full effect... you work to provide for the lifestyle. And so I did... I worked long hours doing something I loved: designing. I traveled to Hong Kong and London and Chicago, Texas, New York and more... all in the name of that perfect little pink plastic lady: Barbie. And I loved her. She was good to me. She gave me all of the satisfaction I was looking for as a young working adult. I loved my co-workers... I loved the pressures the job brought, and the late nights, and the crazy demands for last minute changes... I loved all of these things...
Until I didn't.
At some point after 4 years, I realized I didn't like the job as much any more... I didn't like the demands, and the never being able to turn the phone off, and the fact that all of my creative ideas were cost-reduced down to something I wasn't even proud of... and most importantly, I didn't like the woman the job had turned me into... the endless lists of "needed things" and the 2nd new(er) car. How did that even happen anyway? I never even cared about cars...
One day in early November 2005, I gave my notice at Mattel Toys... I gave a 2 week notice on a 5 year job... On a 5 year job with a salary higher than my husband and I currently make combined... On a job that sent me all over the world just "for inspiration."
Just like that, I was done. My mom cried. My co-workers were in disbelief. I felt oddly relieved. I called my best friend Kelsey from my cubicle that 2-week-notice day in November and I told her we HAD to open up a vintage clothing store with some of our own designs. I convinced friends and family I was MEANT to be a fashion designer, Barbie was just a pit stop in my master designing plan. I mean, I was successful already... why wouldn't I be successful as a store owner? {Oh Kenna... If you had only known then what you know now about yourself...} Success as a business owner is different from success as an employee... I would learn this...eventually...
![]() |
| My last day at Mattel, standing in front of the "goodbye" quilt that was made for me. |
That led me to Broke Bags, my next creative bit of genius: patchwork hand bags named after my new found brokeness. Brokeness where paychecks do not roll in and a savings account for living on the wings of your dreams- does in fact run dry. When you go from ordering a Starbucks every morning (yes, you know- that order) to suddenly serving up that order as a barista... well, it's humbling. Big time humbling, run-to-the-back-and-hide-if-you-saw-an-old-co-worker-humbling. I was starting to learn one thing- being a business woman is a whole other game than being a creative genius. And I wasn't winning it.
![]() |
| A newly opened BFF, Christmas 2005 |
![]() |
| We had bands who would come play... we made the most out of that space. Broke and all, it was our little dream store. |
Fast forward to getting married (read it if you haven't) and moving up to Orcutt, CA for my husband's job. I took my vintage clothing sales to Etsy- because hello- I could totally make Etsy work... Well if $20 a week is "working" then I was indeed, killing it...
And because $20 wasn't quite cutting it, I started waitressing at the local breakfast restaurant in our new town. Usually if you're creative, you're not exactly left brained... and let me tell you- waitressing takes a fair amount of the left brain. So not only was I a new waitress, I was a sucky one {and still am a lot of days}.
I remember a "regular" telling me it wasn't too late for me to go to school so I could find a career. Ouch. I felt like explaining myself... but I didn't. I couldn't. Waitressing was/is even more humbling work than Starbucks- serving people all day with a smile; it's not as easy as it looks (and yes, I always thought it looked easy). In the course of a few years I went from sending interns to fetch a vanilla latte, to explaining to people that we don't have a latte machine, only coffee, and yes I can bring some over- asap...
Fast forward to motherhood with a son in 2009 and a daughter in 2011. As some of you know- nothing in life will humble you the way becoming a mother does. No amount of pouring coffee can compare to the job of being Mom. There are days I feel like I can't possibly have a child ask me for another juice or to build another Lego house. There are days I wonder where my intern is and why isn't she changing my daughter's diaper... there are days I literally feel like I need to be back working and making money and bossing people around... I miss telling people what to do and them doing it. Interns begging for a shot at anything Barbie don't say "NO!" or, "I don't want to!"...no, that's what kids say to their stressed out moms.
My old friend Erika recently reminded me that I might just hate working again, the responsibility and the constant demand. And she's right, I'm sure I would. I did once. But, there are still days I wish I had it all back and I wish these kids would just get their own juice... and not spill it for once...
I am trying to work on being content... which I'm terrible at. I want to want to be 100% Momma... but in my inner being I want to be 100% Miss Party Mom too. I want immediate success for MPM now. I want to work from home blogging and planning events... and being a mom. I want it all. I check my financials on the blog daily, I wonder how I have not had more visitors today or more people calling and asking for parties. I keep wondering why I am still waitressing. I mean, I am a Party Planner... and a Blogger... people actually read my words...
And then I go and serve them coffee.
Contentment. It's so hard for me.
I have to remind myself that more important than ever being successful again in the future, is the fact that I am a Mom right now. And while I may not be churning my own organic peanut butter or dreaming of home schooling my kids... I am happy to be able to stay home with them while fulfilling some of the creative desires in my soul.
And if one day I make a living at MPM, I hope I will never revert back to the lists and unnecessary car and the sushi... because I don't even really like sushi... There's something about being very middle class that keeps your "needs" list short and your "wants" list shorter... there's something about that I think I understand now.
So who knows, Miss Party Mom, it looks like we'll just have to wait it out and see... and in the mean time, be a creative {content} Momma. It's something to strive for.
xo Party or Die xo
kenna






