The Juggle

I know how hard your days are. I know because mine are too. They’re a beautifully exhausting melody of squishy little people hugs and tending to all of their tiny demands and big needs. It’s all of the have-to-dos competing with the nice-to-dos or the want-to-dos. Some days it’s survival vs thriving. It’s clean undies and three healthy meals and early bedtimes vs spontaneous play and saying yes to all the things and going with their happy little flow. It’s counting your lucky stars to be their mama and revelling in the wonder and magic of your tiny people, all while desperately (so desperately) craving silent time completely alone, all while wanting to escape with your love to flirt and kiss and feel young and free together, all while wanting to pop a bottle of something chilled and dance and laugh and natter away with your closest girlfriends.

It’s all of these competing things all of the time - when it feels like time is so scarce - in this precious, gorgeous life we’re living. The rushing and the please-wait-a-moment-darling and the short temper and the regret and the wishing we were as free as our mothers were in their season of parenting tiny people while still wanting the choice to have IT ALL.

We’re not ungrateful, we’re not even sad. We’re exhausted, but we can still see the good in all the things we say yes to and pile up high on our mama plate. And we’re stupidly happy. So happy.  But we are so tired. And, we can see the time slipping through our fingers. That makes us endlessly sad.


When we become mothers, once our babies are here, we seem to realise then how we truly want to raise them. And if we aren’t already in the position of one income floating our family’s boat then we have little time to scurry to make big life changes to support our family vision. It’s crushing when we can’t, or when we don’t and so we do our very best with what we have. Sometimes we can flex and bend our selves/life/work/education/to-dos to something more closely mimicking how we want to raise our children, and we’re relieved and grateful. It still leaves a longing to be more present and infinitely calmer and involved and to feel less frazzled. It’s not perfect. Though, is it ever?

So we continue to do our best with what we have today. And when we feel like we could have done better we know that we will have a fresh start tomorrow. Ultimately we know we still have the power to make big, magical change. We may feel like we’re stuck in a generation who thought we wanted it all, and when we have it all we realise it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. So, if we are able, we make bold changes and we do it now. If we cannot, we can be the voice and support to illicit change in the generation that follows us. We can teach them that there are a multitude of ways to raise a family and still feel whole.

Either way though, we will thrive because we’re committed to doing our best with what we have. We will remain stupidly happy. And in the end we will be more than okay, especially with our swag full to the brim of precious, precious memories from this season of our beautiful life.