Flustered and on the verge of tears, I approached the checkout line, casting a glance at the cashier. Her hair was styled impeccably, her makeup flawlessly applied. Meanwhile, I was a hot mess—sweat trickling down my forehead and my brows in dire need of a trim. It was clear who the winner was here: the composed cashier versus the disheveled mom juggling a chaotic shopping experience.
“Hi,” I said, waving my hand to fan my flushed face as I began to toss my groceries onto the conveyor belt. My usual methodical organization of items was quickly abandoned as I scrambled to keep pace with the scanning and bagging. Onions collided with ice cream and shampoo, a reflection of my chaotic life—unwashed hair, banana-stained shirt, and a brain that felt like scrambled eggs.
In the cart, my daughter wailed with a ferocity that left no doubt she was not just expressing cuteness with her little giggles. No, her cries were akin to a hybrid of a miniature dinosaur and a rhinoceros in distress, amplified by the frustration of a toddler.
Trying to stifle my own tears, I turned to the cashier, hoping to lighten the mood. “They said having kids would be fun,” I joked. I anticipated a shared laugh, perhaps even a moment of connection over the trials of parenthood. Instead, she offered a brief smile before diving back into her task of bagging my items with renewed focus.
I released an awkward chuckle and arranged the bags in my cart, clinging to the last bits of control I had. My baby was throwing a fit. I was sweating profusely. My humor was going nowhere. And yet, I at least wanted the bags to be neatly stacked.
From the moment we entered the store, my daughter had been in full meltdown mode. In a desperate bid to soothe her, I handed her anything within reach—a ball, water, snacks, even my keys and a cucumber. Each item ended up falling to the ground, creating a chaotic scene where I was simultaneously shopping and performing a bizarre dance of picking up rejected toys.
I had anticipated this shopping trip would take longer than usual since I was preparing for two birthday parties. However, my husband was busy with golf, my sister and mother were working, and obviously, my husband had ensured I wouldn’t need his help before booking his day out. Who could predict such a meltdown was on the horizon?
After paying, I made a beeline for my car, eager for a moment of solitude. Glancing down at my daughter, I wanted to shout, “Please just stop!” Instead, I halted the cart, took a deep breath, and felt a wave of guilt wash over me. Looking down, I saw not a tormentor but a little girl reaching for her mom, pleading for comfort. I let a couple of tears slip down my cheeks, leaned down, and kissed her head before continuing to the car. Once there, I scooped her up into my arms, holding her tightly until her cries faded away. After buckling her into her seat, I loaded the groceries with a newfound sense of calm.
Once home, I pushed aside my to-do list and settled on the floor with my daughter, who was in her element, pulling every toy from the box one by one—her favorite pastime. She would occasionally hand me an item and babble something unintelligible. The screams were replaced with smiles. Her needs weren’t about extravagant birthday parties or fancy cakes; what she craved was simply her mother’s time and attention.
I realized that while my daughter might not need the elaborate cake, my Instagram account certainly did. But why was it so hard to give her what she truly needed? The answer was simple: I was running on empty. I had exhausted my energy planning, list-making, shopping, and researching. It was a ridiculous cycle.
We often get caught up in what our children “need”—the perfect outfits, a little extra cash in their savings, or even gold for future emergencies—but at the end of the day, what they truly need is us. The best versions of ourselves. However, to give our children what they require, we first need to take care of ourselves.
Whether it’s a rejuvenating walk, therapy, or indulging in a guilty pleasure show, it’s crucial to carve out time for self-care. If your baby is napping, let the dishes wait and enjoy a cup of tea. If you’re in need of solitude, consider dropping your little one off with a trusted friend or relative, even if it’s just to recharge by staring at a wall for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling utterly drained from sleepless nights, know that you’re not alone in this struggle.
When we neglect our own needs, we deny our children the best version of ourselves. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I needed to prioritize my well-being to be the mom my daughter deserved. But let’s be honest—I was too exhausted to celebrate that epiphany.
That hectic weekend did pass, and while I encountered a few embarrassing moments—like ordering a “porn roll” instead of a prawn roll, and awkwardly announcing the “Chim Cham Teesecake” instead of Tim Tam Cheesecake at the birthday party—I survived. Sometimes, amidst the chaos, it’s easy to forget that being a tired mom means our brains can falter, too. I decided to take a step back, slow down, and toss the to-do lists aside.
In the end, it’s about cherishing the simple moments. For more insights on managing motherhood, including topics like home insemination, check out this blog post. If you’re seeking more information on fertility and conception, this site is an excellent resource.
Summary
Navigating motherhood can be overwhelming, especially when juggling tasks like grocery shopping and planning birthday parties. The author shares a relatable experience of feeling depleted but learns the importance of self-care to be present for her child. Ultimately, it’s the simple moments of connection that matter most.