Yesterday started like most days around here.
I was trying to get some work done while my children argued across the room from me.
Not with me.
Across me.
Because apparently Mom’s workspace is also a perfectly acceptable location for everyone else to conduct their disagreements. 😂
I sat there typing, drinking my coffee, listening to the chaos happening around me, and honestly… it was funny.
Because it was so completely normal.

Take a look! I decided why not get a video of what actively happens while I try to work on my computer.

This is my life.
And then somewhere between the arguing, the errands, the kids, the schedules, the responsibilities, and trying to keep all the moving pieces of this family from flying completely off the rails, I realized something:
I was exhausted.
Not just physically tired.
The kind of tired where you’ve spent so much of yourself taking care of everyone else that there doesn’t seem to be much left over for you.
And last night, I was supposed to go out.
Just go.
Not be Mom for a few hours.
Not coordinate somebody else’s appointment.
Not solve somebody else’s problem.
Not make sure everyone had what they needed.
Just… breathe.
And I almost didn’t go.
Because Kalli followed me out to the van crying for her mommy.
And I stood there crying too.
Because one part of me was thinking, She needs me.
And another part of me was thinking, Mommy needs a break.
And that second thought made me feel selfish.
Because isn’t that what we do?
We can understand when our children need a break.
We understand when our partners need a break.
We understand when someone else needs time to decompress.
But somehow, when we need it, we start negotiating with ourselves.
Maybe I shouldn’t go.
Maybe I should stay.
Maybe somebody needs me more.
Maybe I’m being selfish.
So I went.
I cried most of the way there.
Then I got to Mick’s, got ready, and eventually made my way out.
And you know what?
It wasn’t even what I expected.
There were costumes. There were bands. There was a DJ. There was a drag show, which was a first for me. 😂
I drank.
I danced.
I laughed.
And I met some other moms.
And somehow, sitting there talking to women I had just met, I heard the words I think so many of us need to hear:
“Yeah. Me too.”
They weren’t bad moms.
They weren’t trying to escape their children.
They weren’t complaining about how much they loved their families.
They just needed a night where they weren’t responsible for everyone else.
And suddenly I didn’t feel quite so selfish.
Because maybe needing a break doesn’t mean we’re ungrateful.
Maybe being exhausted doesn’t mean we don’t love our families enough.
Maybe sometimes it simply means we’re human.
We are running entire lives every single day.
We are remembering appointments, packing lunches, answering questions, finding missing shoes, managing schedules, calming meltdowns, solving problems, making phone calls, working, cleaning, cooking, driving, coordinating, comforting, worrying, planning ahead, and somehow still trying to remember to drink our own coffee while it’s hot.
And somewhere in all of that, we are supposed to be a person too.
Sometimes it feels like everyone around us gets a minute to breathe.
The kids get to sleep.
The teenagers disappear into their rooms.
The adults get to go to work, go out, decompress, scroll, watch TV, whatever.
And Mom?
Mom keeps running.
Until she finally collapses into bed.
Or, more accurately, until she’s basically unconscious because her body has decided it is done negotiating. 😂
And maybe that’s why I needed last night.
Not because I don’t love my kids.
I love them more than anything.
I needed it because I am one of the people in this family too.
And I needed to remember what it felt like to laugh with people who didn’t know me as somebody’s mom.
I needed to dance.
I needed to drink something that wasn’t cold coffee I forgot about.
I needed to hear another mom say, “Oh my God, SAME.”
I needed to breathe.
And when I came home, the kids were asleep.
The house was quiet.
And for the first time in a while, my watch gave me a high sleep score.
Apparently, a little alcohol and finally sitting still long enough for my body to shut down does wonders. 😂
And then this morning, because apparently the universe needed to make sure I didn’t get too sentimental about the whole experience, Louie walked up to me and said:
“Mom… I thought I had to fart and accidentally pooped my pants.”
And just like that…
We’re back. 😂
But maybe that’s the point.
We don’t need to disappear from our lives.
We don’t need to stop being Mom.
We don’t need to love our families any less.
Sometimes we just need a little space inside the chaos to remember that we’re people too.
So if you’re the mom sitting there thinking,
“I love my kids, but holy shit, I need a break.”
Come sit with me.
Because that’s exactly why I started this blog.
Not to tell you how to be a better mom.
Not to pretend I have this figured out.
Not to give you another list of things you’re supposed to be doing.
I just want to sit beside you with a cup of coffee and say:
Yeah. Me too.
You’re not alone.

Maybe we don’t need to earn the right to breathe. Maybe breathing isn’t something we get after we’ve finished taking care of everyone else. Maybe it’s part of how we keep taking care of them- and ourselves too.

You don’t have to earn the right to breathe.