You ever wake up already exhausted, like you just ran a marathon in your sleep?
That’s me every morning. The moment my feet hit the floor, it’s chaos. Toddler chaos, autoimmune chaos, life chaos. Some days, I feel like a superhero just for getting breakfast made without completely losing my mind. Other days? The toddler wins. I’m counting down the minutes—no, the seconds—until my husband walks in the door. And when I found out last night that he’d only be home for 30 minutes before heading out to his men’s group? Let’s just say the walls heard some words.
The worst part? The guilt. Oh, the endless, soul-crushing guilt. I snap at my toddler, and immediately, I’m spiraling. I should’ve eaten better yesterday. I should’ve stretched or hydrated or done anything other than overdo it, knowing I’d pay for it today. But here I am, barely holding it together, staring at the mountain of toys I’ve already picked up 17 times. How many times can one person pick up the same toys? Spoiler alert: too damn many. And the worst part? It feels like no one really gets it.
But then, out of nowhere, those sweet little moments hit. A giggle. A “love you, Mama.” A tiny hand reaching for mine. And for those few seconds, I forget the exhaustion, the frustration, the clutter. I forget that my body feels like it’s running on fumes. That’s when I realize why I keep pushing through. Those are the moments that make it all worth it, even if the rest of the day feels like drowning in a sea of sour patch crumbs and toddler tantrums.
Still, there are days when I’m 100% convinced I’m screwing it all up. Society wants me to be this perfect mom with a Pinterest-worthy house, organic snacks, and a perky smile, even when I’m running on negative energy. Well, newsflash: I’m human. And sometimes, Mama just needs a damn cracker. It’s not pretty, but it’s real. And honestly, I think we need to normalize that. We can’t pour from an empty cup, so maybe it’s okay if that cup is a little cracked and chipped sometimes.
So, here’s what I’m reminding myself today, and maybe you need to hear it too: It’s okay to have bad days. It’s okay to feel like you’re just surviving. Being a mom, especially with an autoimmune disease, is hard as hell. But it’s also beautiful in ways that don’t always make sense in the moment. So, let’s just embrace this sour patch life for what it is—messy, exhausting, and bittersweet. And when the day wins? Well, there’s always tomorrow.
