For the past few weeks, life outside of this space needed me a little more.

The end of this school year completely swept me up in the best and most exhausting way. Somewhere between piano recitals, dance performances, school events, birthday parties, family celebrations, and everyday life, I realized I didn’t really have the mental or emotional space to fully hold everything all at once. 

Part of me kept feeling guilty for stepping away from this space because I care deeply about what I’m building here. I’d get into bed exhausted at the end of the night thinking about how I should’ve planned ahead better. I should’ve had posts prewritten in April. I should’ve stayed more organized and prepared for May because honestly, I’m usually very good at doing that.

But this year felt different for some reason.

Maybe because this is my first year doing the end of the school year with a kindergartener and preschooler. Maybe because there were simply more demands than I expected. Or maybe because The Mom Society is rooted in real life and real motherhood, and I can only write authentically from where I actually am emotionally.

And when my brain gets too overloaded, I’ve realized something about myself. I stop feeling creative. I stop feeling inspired. I don’t know if that’s something I need to work on or if that’s just how creativity works for me personally, but when my mental capacity is completely full, it becomes hard for me to access that thoughtful, reflective part of myself that writes from the heart.

Which is why planning ahead matters for me. Not because I want motherhood to feel curated or perfectly scheduled, but because creativity needs breathing room in my life.

And the irony is that this space is literally about motherhood, balance, family, emotions, growth, and trying to build a life where the people we love actually stay at the center of it.

I’m writing in real time about trying to balance being present for my children while also remembering I matter too. Trying to build things while also slowing down enough to experience my own life while I’m in it.

And sometimes that balance shifts.

Sometimes one part of life naturally moves to the front while another part quietly waits its turn.

And I think that’s okay.

Because while part of me worried about stepping away from work and the things I’m building, another part of me was watching my children grow right in front of me.

I watched my daughter grow into a new kind of confidence this month. I watched her become a little louder, a little prouder, a little more sure of herself. I saw her light up realizing she could stand in front of people, perform, express herself, and be celebrated for it.

I watched my son perform music in front of a crowd and look up at me multiple times while he played, just making sure I was there. Afterward, he told me that seeing me in the audience made him feel braver and calmer.

That stayed with me.

Because in the middle of all the rushing around and exhaustion and chaos, those are the moments that actually matter.

Getting to watch my children feel proud of themselves.

Watching them light up seeing family and friends celebrate them.

Watching them cheer each other on as siblings.

Watching them slowly become more capable, expressive, confident little people right in front of my eyes.

That is the stuff I don’t want to miss.

The performances.

The classroom parties.

The practicing songs in the living room.

The tiny costumes hanging on doors.

The way they search the audience looking for your face.

This season is happening now.

And if my emotional and mental capacity was already stretched thin, then I wanted whatever energy I had left to go toward being fully present for this season with them.

Not perfectly productive.

Not trying to do everything flawlessly.

Just present.

I think women, especially mothers, are carrying impossible expectations right now. We’re expected to build careers like we don’t have children, parent like we don’t have work, take care of everyone around us, maintain our health and relationships, stay emotionally grounded, keep the house together, and somehow do it all beautifully and consistently.

At some point, something has to temporarily take a backseat.

And for me, for these past few weeks, it was this space.

Not because I stopped caring about it.

But because I cared deeply about another moment too.

I don’t want to miss my children’s lives while trying to keep up with everything else around me.

I want to remember this part too.

The loudness.

The chaos.

The pride on their faces.

The feeling of all of us being together in it.

I’ll prepare differently next year. I already know that. I’ll create more structure around busy seasons and give myself more room ahead of time.

But I’m also releasing the guilt around this season because I wasn’t failing.

I was living my life.

I was being their mom.

And honestly, I think that matters too.

💌

Jenn from The Mom Society™