Last summer, the day before we left for up north, we stopped at the library. The kids wanted their summer reading prizes, and we wanted to grab some DVDs for rainy days. (A vacay rental without cable or internet is a beautiful thing.) I forgot the library’s summer hours. Once upon a time–“mom of two” me—I would have known. “Current-day” me, mom of four? Not a chance.
We walked in just before closing. The lights were dim, and any remaining patrons were heading out. Even the librarians were ready to call it a week. It was 4:50 p.m. on a Friday, after all. But my kids came in loud and enthusiastic, colored sheets in hand, ready for raffle tickets, their prized books, and of course, DVD picks. (Cue decision paralysis.)
This was much longer than a seven-minute trip.
Parenting in Overdrive
My one-year-old was running wild, and the other kids needed help. Then the librarian pointed out my six-year-old’s incomplete chart. And, “Kaitlin, do you have cash? For the DVDs.” I wanted to cry, melt, crumble, and vomit all at once. Even my husband—rarely fazed—said, “Man, we can’t show our faces in there for like a month.”
Every part of me wanted to leave immediately. Forget the prizes, forget the DVDs. None of it mattered more than settling my nervous system. But as moms do, I stayed. I was shaky, sweaty, but I saw through my discomfort and embarrassment, and “oohed and awed” at my kids’ prize and DVD picks. And, despite all the chaos, my kids left skipping through the parking lot, perfectly content. Classic, right?
Honestly, the last year and a half has looked a lot like that scene: chaotic, scattered, extra eyeballs on us. A child running off. All evidence pointing to suggest “parents barely keeping heads above water.” And it’s true. It’s been a season of transition—sleep regressions, growth spurts, endless adaptation. I’ve cherished these days, I really have, but I’ve also struggled to fully enjoy them. It’s been one of the hardest seasons of parenthood yet.
Moments Just For Me
In the middle of it, in an effort to fill my cup so I can enjoy this season as I’d like to, I’ve carved out corners of my life that are just for me. Sometimes that looks like making an event out of something small: event-izing, if you will, like the night I finally tried my long-overdue martini with a friend, turning it into an evening of dinner, conversation, and a newfound favorite drink.
Other times, it’s been as simple as keeping to one singular goal: hitting my step count. Intentionally uncomplicated; not some multi-day workout plan that would set me up to fail during this heightened season of babyhood. Just me, my movement, and my step count inching toward 12,000 steps every day. It’s enough to not only remind myself that my body still belongs to me, but that I’m capable of pushing myself physically (hey, running!) and ultimately, growing.
I’ve learned to keep something on the calendar to look forward to: football on Sunday, takeout for Thursday night football with my husband, a new recipe, a concert, anything certain and promised. And I’ve learned not to feel guilty over a small daily joy, like my morning coffee out. It may not be budget-friendly, but it’s sanity-friendly, and right now, that will win every time.
Holding Space For It All
The most challenging aspect has been learning to validate my own feelings. I’ve been quick to tell myself I’m not even close to keeping up and have compared myself to seemingly every other mom on the planet. But! Feelings aren’t facts. The fact is, I’m raising four kids who, between them, have 10 practices a week. Of course, this season is hectic. It’s beautiful and nuts and joyful. It’s simultaneously juggling exhaustion while looking at your thriving, active kids, thinking all of this is worth it. Of course it is.
It’s okay to hold the space for the negative or hard feelings; it doesn’t invalidate this season’s joy. And when I can, I try to shift the focus outward, because yes, the cliché is in fact true: when we help others, we help ourselves. Whether it is bringing a friend dinner, taking a friend coffee, or having a favorite treat delivered, these small acts not only show our loved ones that we care about them, but they also draw us out of our sometimes spiraling inner world just enough to help us stabilize and find our footing once again.
Sometimes it just feels like we’re drowning and no tip or trick can save us. Other times, we find just one habit or hobby that breathes a little life into us again. There is no perfect prescription for staying grounded and not losing ourselves during the most demanding seasons of motherhood.
But I have found that when life feels like a blur of chaos and noise, the way through is anchoring to the little things: joys, steps, conversations, kindnesses. These seemingly oh-so-small things aren’t small at all. They are mini-resets for us moms, enabling us to be a little clearer-headed as we cheer like crazy on the sidelines.
