20/08/2025
I can’t do it all.
I can’t cook wholesome food, and listen to all their rages and sorrows, and make a quality breakfast, and prep a wholesome lunch, and contribute to work, and keep the house tidy, and take time to rest, and do my morning practice, and encourage their independence, and make sure they are supported, and read them stories, and correct their homework, and make ferments, and get a good costume for f&^*ing book week, and make sure they’ve had their vitamins, and drink my morning warm water, and play silly with them, and move my body in a healthy way, and journal, and read the school emails, and de-clutter, and meditate, and wash the sheets weekly, and take my magnesium, and ask about their day, and practice gratitude, and get to school on time, and show them the value of slowness, and make sure their shoes are dried from the rain, and that they have their sports uniform clean, and put away clothes, and take in clothes, and bleed every month, and post on insta, and run a side hustle, and go to therapy, and learn about my wild rage, and walk in nature, and go to the school events, and read a book, and regulate my nervous system, and organise the extracurriculars, and take them to swimming, and wash the dishes over and over and over again.
It’s too much.
Too much for one (or two) people to be carrying the load that was once shared by an entire village………..
Where can we back down. What can we drop. What can we share. How can we do this differently. What can we compromise on. And perhaps most importantly of all, can we be okay in our heart of hearts not doing it all? What does that say about us? About our value? What does it mean about us if we don’t have it all together? Can we truly and deeply know our worth if we don’t have it all sorted? Can we truly and deeply believe that we are still a good mother if we aren’t doing it all and don’t have it all perfect???