Flustered, red-faced, and fighting back tears, I made my way to the checkout line and cast a glance at the cashier. Her hair was neatly styled, and her makeup was just right—she stood there calmly attending to the next customer. And then there was me—the harried mom with sweat beading on my forehead and weeks of neglected grooming. I was clearly the jackpot.
“Hi,” I managed, fanning my face before unloading my groceries. My usual methodical organization flew out the window as I frantically tried to keep pace with the scanner. Onions collided with ice cream, shampoo mingled with fresh produce, and into the bag they went—much like my chaotic hairdo, banana-stained shirt, and scrambled thoughts.
Meanwhile, my daughter was in the cart’s baby seat, not emitting those adorable little coos but rather screeching like a tiny, furious dinosaur. Imagine a pint-sized pterodactyl mixed with a rhinoceros. Multiply that by 15.
Desperate to hold back my tears, I turned to the cashier. “They said having kids would be fun,” I quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. I expected a chuckle and some camaraderie, but instead, she barely glanced up, offering a fleeting smile before focusing intently on bagging my produce.
I awkwardly laughed, trying to maintain some semblance of control as I organized my mismatched bags. The baby was throwing a fit, I was sweating bullets, and my humor was failing miserably. At least I could manage to stack the bags neatly, right?
I’d been hearing my daughter’s tantrums since we walked into the store. In a frantic bid to calm her, I handed her anything she pointed at—water, snacks, my keys, even a cucumber. Every item ended up on the floor. It was a wild mix of shopping and a demented game of retrieval, bouncing back and forth to pick up her discarded treasures.
I knew I was in for a marathon shopping trip, stocking up for her two upcoming birthday parties. No one was available to babysit; my partner was out golfing, my sister was busy, and my mom was tied up too. Of course, my husband made sure I was okay before he booked his round, but really, who expects a breakdown in the middle of grocery shopping?
After paying for my groceries, I dashed to the car, craving some privacy and sanity. I looked down at my daughter and thought, “Stop. Just stop whining.” But instead, I paused. I took a deep breath and saw her for what she really was—a sad little girl reaching for her mom. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I leaned down to kiss her head. Once in the car, I scooped her up and held her until she settled down.
At home, I pushed my to-do list aside and sat on the floor with my daughter as she gleefully pulled every single toy out of her toy box—her favorite pastime. Every now and then, she’d hand me some random object, babbling away. The screams were replaced by giggles. It turned out she didn’t need extravagant birthday parties or fancy cakes; she just needed my time and attention.
Maybe my daughter didn’t need that cake, but my Instagram account sure did. Why was I struggling to give her what she truly needed? The answer was simple: my energy reserves were depleted, drained by endless planning, list-making, and frantic grocery runs. It was absurd, and I see that now.
We often obsess over what our children “need”—the latest trendy outfits, a little extra cash for their piggy banks, or even gold for their birthdays. But in reality, what they need most is us—the best version of ourselves. To provide that, we must also take care of ourselves. Whether it’s a long walk, therapy, or indulging in a guilty pleasure like binge-watching reality TV, find a way to nourish your soul. If your baby is napping, take a break from chores and enjoy a cup of tea. Craving alone time? If possible, let your little one stay with a friend or family member for a couple of hours each week—even if it’s just to sit in silence.
Denying yourself the time to recharge ultimately robs your child of the best you. When I grasped this concept, it felt like a light bulb moment. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, “I get it! I need to take care of myself so I can take care of her!” But honestly? I was just too tired for that.
I survived that chaotic weekend without any major disasters—well, aside from a few embarrassing moments. Instead of ordering a prawn and pork rice paper roll for lunch, I accidentally asked for a “porn roll.” Thankfully, the cashier knew what I meant. At my daughter’s birthday party, I mistakenly announced I’d bring out the “Chim Cham Teesecake” (Tim Tam Cheesecake) right after changing the baby’s “wappy” (wet nappy). Sometimes, when you’re a mom running on fumes, your brain just doesn’t keep up.
That weekend, I was a weary mom who couldn’t be fully present for her daughter’s celebration. I decided to take the following days to slow down, articulate my thoughts, and toss the endless lists aside. For more relatable insights on parenting, check out this piece on Modern Family Blog.
In summary, motherhood can feel overwhelming, but it’s crucial to remember that taking care of yourself is essential to being there for your child. Prioritize your needs, even if it means sneaking in a little self-care amid the chaos. And remember, you’re not alone in this journey.
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