Permission to be Tired: A Note for Burned-Out Moms
I sat down to write a blog post this week. I had my coffee. I had my laptop. I had a quiet house (a miracle on its own).
And I had absolutely nothing.
Not writer's block exactly. I always have ideas! More like the coffee pot is empty, and I've been running the brew cycle anyway, just pushing hot water through old grounds and hoping nobody notices it tastes like decaf.
So instead of forcing a post I don't have in me, I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm tired, friends. Not "I need a nap" tired. The bone-deep kind. And I'm guessing some of you are, too.
Why This Season Is Heavy
If you've been around here a while, you know we just picked up our whole life and moved it from Texas to Georgia. (Yes, I'm still finding boxes. No, I don't know what's in them. Yes, I'm somewhat afraid to look at this point.)
Moving is one of those things everyone warns you is hard, and you nod politely, and then you're standing in a new grocery store at 7pm unable to find the tortillas (which are now on the “International Aisle” instead of in the bakery…), and you cry a little by the bread. Ask me how I know.
And it's not just the boxes. It's all of the invisible work. New doctors. New schools. New routines for kids who need routine like the rest of us need oxygen. The first month of school it felt like the bus was picking up the kids at a different time every other morning - hard to build a routine around that! Every single thing that used to run on autopilot now needs a decision. And the decision fatigue is SO real, y'all.
Then there's everything that didn't pause just because we moved. Work. Marriage. Friendships held together by texts, Instagram memes, and promises to call soon. Being somebody's mom and somebody's daughter at the same time.
And now, the holidays are coming. Ready or not. Spoiler alert: I am not.
The Lie That Rest Has to Be Earned
Here's the embarrassing part. When I was a school counselor, I said this to teachers all the time: "You cannot pour from an empty cup." I said it with my whole chest. I made posters. (Okay, I didn't make posters. But I did send it through the “Wellness Wednesdays” emails so that counts!)
And then I go home and treat my own exhaustion like a character flaw.
Somewhere along the way, a lot of us picked up the idea that rest is a reward. You get to be tired after the boxes are unpacked. After the IEP is in place at the new school. After everyone else is okay.
But the problem is that the list never ends. There's no finish line where somebody hands you a blanket and says, "Great job, you may now sit down."
Tired doesn't always look like sleeping in, either. Sometimes it looks like:
Rereading the same email four times because the words won't stick
Snapping at the people you love most over socks on the floor
Scrolling at midnight because it's the only time nobody needs anything
Staring at a blank page when you used to have more ideas than time
That snapping over socks and the last one is mine this week. Maybe one of the others is yours.
My favorite, ride or die eye patches for these tired eyes!
What I'm Giving Myself Permission to Do
So here's my plan for the rest of this year. It's not a ten-step wellness routine. It's a permission slip.
I'm allowed to do less this holiday season. Store-bought pie counts. So does a Christmas card that goes out in January. (Or never. Nobody's grading. Most of you know I love to get them but will never send them because it’s not in my bandwidth.)
I'm allowed to say "not this year." To the extra event, the extra volunteer sign-up, the extra anything. New town, new rules.
I'm allowed to rest before everything is done. Because everything is never done.
I'm allowed to let some things be unfinished. Including a few boxes in the garage. They've waited this long.
I'm allowed to write about being tired instead of pretending I'm not. Which, look at that, I'm doing right now.
And here's the thing about an empty coffee pot. You don't fix it by running the machine harder. You stop. You dump the old grounds. You start fresh, slowly. That's where I am. Refilling, one small cup at a time.
If You're Tired Too
If you're reading this with cold coffee and a to-do list that's been mocking you since last Tuesday, I see you. If you're parenting a kid who needs a little more, working a job that needs a lot more, and holding it all together with dry shampoo and caffeine, I see you.
You don't have to earn your rest. You don't have to explain it. You're allowed to be tired, and you're still doing a good job.
So here's your permission slip, signed by me: Sit down. Drink the coffee while it's hot. Let one thing go this week.
And tell me in the comments: what's one thing you're giving yourself permission to skip this season? I'll go first. I’m skipping the guilt over restarting the dryer for the 3rd time.
Love you, mean it, friends.
P.S. Needing some eye patches? I swear by these Stella & Grace ones and the multi-pack from Amazon has been ordered multiple times.
P.P.S. I may earn a small commission on product links which go towards helping run the blog.