I just recently got over the guilt trip my 43-year-old daughter kept throwing at me for not getting her dancing lessons in 3rd grade. I had to get through to myself that I did the best I could with the resources I had at the time.
Aline, I think there’s a perpetuity of feeling guilty once you become a mom. It’s good that you’re allowing yourself the room to process it and extend grace to yourself.
This piece really captures something so many of us struggle to name. The invisible mental load, the constant internal measuring stick, the way guilt quietly creeps into everything. I love the reframe around presence over performance. Not doing more, but feeling enough. That feels like such a radical and necessary shift. The 15 minutes of true connection especially landed for me. Simple, human, and actually sustainable. Thank you for describing this so clearly and compassionately.
Brittney, yes! I love your line, “not doing more, but feeling enough.” That encapsulates Lara’s essay and the invisible labor moms carry but don’t often know how to name. Your comment here was so wise and thoughtful. Thank you for that offering.
I remember after my second child - I was a Kindergarten teacher and I would come home after school and the only thing I did was cook dinner. I then took care of my baby.
And ‘Berta, that is enough. That is the way you gave your love.
I often wonder how we, as mothers, particularly when we are chronically sleep deprived, often working jobs outside the home, and recovering from childbirth, do everything that’s expected of us? It’s not possible. For the ten years I was giving birth to five kids, I simply tried to do my best to keep them clean, fed, and safe.
It was hard to know I wasn’t emotionally available to my kids then. I still struggle with guilt over that reality. At the same time, I gave them from my empty cup. And now that my cup is more full, I can give them more.
So sweet. I'm glad you have the opportunity to give more now. You sound like a working mom still (working on yourself). Love that. Hope the holidays were good for you and yours. 'Berta
So true. When the washer and dryer run 24/7 and making sure the kids had clean clothes, lunches and field trip notes, I felt I wasn't doing enough or doing it right. Then being told that because got divorced and the child was more like her peers I had ruined her life. At 76 I know I did more than enough. I didn't ruin lives my actions made them healthy, safe, and happy. It's time to deliver the message to future moms you are okay just the way you are.💪
Yes, Candy! What you said you learned at 76, I learned around age 40. It’s revelatory to recognize the immense efforts of invisible labor that simply is expected of moms. And I think what Lara shared in this essay, too, speaks to this idea of what we adopt to mean a “good mom” does. The thing is, it’s never enough. We can never “do” enough, it seems.
At 70, with two adult daughters and two granddaughters, I know I’m blessed. I think I also knew it back then but lord, it was nearly impossible to access that fullness and contentment due to what Lara points out so simply and eloquently. The mental agility and flexibility needed to shepard one’s family week after week is exhausting.
I was a highly organized person yet I drowned in the details of holding our daily life together. It took a spreadsheet and it still didn’t work! Lara’s best advice here? Get down on the floor and give that 15 minutes after every workday away from your kids. I’d hide in the bathroom for 15, only they knew I was there, so how must that have made them feel? They totally get it now, the need for a quick recharge before facing the evening will bring, but my point is that you only get the present moment to do it as best you can, so we must always try
I hear you, Molly. Those fifteen minutes—whether crouched in the bathroom for a moment of quiet, or spent on the floor wrestling with our kids—matter. I mean, we all know about caring for ourselves and not operating on an empty tank. We all know. But there’s a delicate balance between self-care and care of others, especially as mothers, because we receive the message from society that no matter what we do, it’s never enough—or else it’s too much.
A good friend has found herself taking care of way more than her own immediate family. I won’t go into specifics, but she’s been doing everything for everybody, including neighbors who are not related to her. And she paid the price with a mini-stroke. This lady is only in her mid-thirties, she as strong as the average man her size, and she is always smiling and in good spirits! And look what’s happened to her for trying to be all things to all people. I’m quite used to being the only man in the comments, because I’m caring for my disabled wife and I’m chronically ill myself. This article gets to the heart of what’s really important in family life. A special note to the creator: you’ve found a really good friend in Jeannie Ewing! That coming from my own personal experience. ❤️!
Rafael, I think it’s so brave of you to notice that you are usually the lone man in the comments here AND to still show up the way you do! Your presence and insights are so valuable and they mean everything to me. I cherish the way you read with consideration and how you apply what you read through my essays to your own life and the people you love. What a gift to us all. I am glad we get to share this space and the meaningful connections that result from it.
As for your 30something neighbor, that is quite a tragedy and is very telling about how humans simply cannot try to operate like machines. We have to listen to our bodies, slow down, honor our needs. It’s hard in a world that values productivity, but it’s important.
I just recently got over the guilt trip my 43-year-old daughter kept throwing at me for not getting her dancing lessons in 3rd grade. I had to get through to myself that I did the best I could with the resources I had at the time.
Aline, I think there’s a perpetuity of feeling guilty once you become a mom. It’s good that you’re allowing yourself the room to process it and extend grace to yourself.
This piece really captures something so many of us struggle to name. The invisible mental load, the constant internal measuring stick, the way guilt quietly creeps into everything. I love the reframe around presence over performance. Not doing more, but feeling enough. That feels like such a radical and necessary shift. The 15 minutes of true connection especially landed for me. Simple, human, and actually sustainable. Thank you for describing this so clearly and compassionately.
Brittney, yes! I love your line, “not doing more, but feeling enough.” That encapsulates Lara’s essay and the invisible labor moms carry but don’t often know how to name. Your comment here was so wise and thoughtful. Thank you for that offering.
I remember after my second child - I was a Kindergarten teacher and I would come home after school and the only thing I did was cook dinner. I then took care of my baby.
And ‘Berta, that is enough. That is the way you gave your love.
I often wonder how we, as mothers, particularly when we are chronically sleep deprived, often working jobs outside the home, and recovering from childbirth, do everything that’s expected of us? It’s not possible. For the ten years I was giving birth to five kids, I simply tried to do my best to keep them clean, fed, and safe.
It was hard to know I wasn’t emotionally available to my kids then. I still struggle with guilt over that reality. At the same time, I gave them from my empty cup. And now that my cup is more full, I can give them more.
So sweet. I'm glad you have the opportunity to give more now. You sound like a working mom still (working on yourself). Love that. Hope the holidays were good for you and yours. 'Berta
I sure am a work in progress, ‘Berta. :)
Me too!!!
So true. When the washer and dryer run 24/7 and making sure the kids had clean clothes, lunches and field trip notes, I felt I wasn't doing enough or doing it right. Then being told that because got divorced and the child was more like her peers I had ruined her life. At 76 I know I did more than enough. I didn't ruin lives my actions made them healthy, safe, and happy. It's time to deliver the message to future moms you are okay just the way you are.💪
Yes, Candy! What you said you learned at 76, I learned around age 40. It’s revelatory to recognize the immense efforts of invisible labor that simply is expected of moms. And I think what Lara shared in this essay, too, speaks to this idea of what we adopt to mean a “good mom” does. The thing is, it’s never enough. We can never “do” enough, it seems.
This sounds about right to me.
At 70, with two adult daughters and two granddaughters, I know I’m blessed. I think I also knew it back then but lord, it was nearly impossible to access that fullness and contentment due to what Lara points out so simply and eloquently. The mental agility and flexibility needed to shepard one’s family week after week is exhausting.
I was a highly organized person yet I drowned in the details of holding our daily life together. It took a spreadsheet and it still didn’t work! Lara’s best advice here? Get down on the floor and give that 15 minutes after every workday away from your kids. I’d hide in the bathroom for 15, only they knew I was there, so how must that have made them feel? They totally get it now, the need for a quick recharge before facing the evening will bring, but my point is that you only get the present moment to do it as best you can, so we must always try
I hear you, Molly. Those fifteen minutes—whether crouched in the bathroom for a moment of quiet, or spent on the floor wrestling with our kids—matter. I mean, we all know about caring for ourselves and not operating on an empty tank. We all know. But there’s a delicate balance between self-care and care of others, especially as mothers, because we receive the message from society that no matter what we do, it’s never enough—or else it’s too much.
A good friend has found herself taking care of way more than her own immediate family. I won’t go into specifics, but she’s been doing everything for everybody, including neighbors who are not related to her. And she paid the price with a mini-stroke. This lady is only in her mid-thirties, she as strong as the average man her size, and she is always smiling and in good spirits! And look what’s happened to her for trying to be all things to all people. I’m quite used to being the only man in the comments, because I’m caring for my disabled wife and I’m chronically ill myself. This article gets to the heart of what’s really important in family life. A special note to the creator: you’ve found a really good friend in Jeannie Ewing! That coming from my own personal experience. ❤️!
Rafael, I think it’s so brave of you to notice that you are usually the lone man in the comments here AND to still show up the way you do! Your presence and insights are so valuable and they mean everything to me. I cherish the way you read with consideration and how you apply what you read through my essays to your own life and the people you love. What a gift to us all. I am glad we get to share this space and the meaningful connections that result from it.
As for your 30something neighbor, that is quite a tragedy and is very telling about how humans simply cannot try to operate like machines. We have to listen to our bodies, slow down, honor our needs. It’s hard in a world that values productivity, but it’s important.
Thanks always for being here.
❤️!