When our son was a baby, sleep was the one thing we couldn’t seem to figure out. We tried rocking, bouncing, lullabies—you name it. He’d fall asleep, but within 20 minutes, the tiniest sound (a dog bark, the doorbell, or even the floor creaking) would wake him up. It wasn’t just him who was sleep-deprived—it was us, too. We were running on fumes, barely making it through the day. I realized that if we were going to survive parenthood with our sanity intact, we needed a real solution.

I’ll never forget the first time we tried to travel with our little one. Between the diaper bag, the snacks, and the constant cries of “I want out!”, our giant stroller felt like dragging a piece of furniture through the airport. By the time we made it to our gate, I was sweating, frazzled, and already questioning if this trip was worth it.

That’s when I realized—our stroller wasn’t helping us; it was working against us.

I’ll never forget the day I sat in the bathroom with the fan on—just for a few minutes of quiet. The house was buzzing with the sounds of kids, dishes, laundry, and the TV in the background. My head was pounding, and I realized I hadn’t had a single silent moment all day.

I was exhausted—not just physically, but mentally. And like so many parents, I told myself, “This is just how life is right now.” But deep down, I knew it wasn’t sustainable.

That’s when I realized I needed more than a five-minute escape behind a locked door. I needed real, intentional quiet time—even in a house full of noise.

There was a season when the kitchen felt like my biggest enemy. I’d finish a long day—work, kids, chores—and then face the dreaded question: “What’s for dinner?”

By the time I chopped veggies, cooked the meal, and cleaned up, I had zero energy left for myself. Instead of winding down or spending time with my family, I was buried in dishes and frustration.

I realized I wasn’t just exhausted from parenting—I was exhausted from the kitchen routine that stole my time.

There was a season when I dreaded bedtime. I was so tired from the day, but when I finally lay down, my mind wouldn’t stop racing. The to-do list replayed in my head, the kids’ schedules swirled around, and the stress of the day clung to me like glue.

Instead of waking up rested, I woke up groggy — like I hadn’t slept at all. I thought, “This is just part of parenthood. You’re supposed to be exhausted.”

But then I tried something I never thought would make a difference: a weighted blanket.

There was a stretch of mornings where I felt like I was moving through quicksand. The alarm would go off, the kids needed breakfast, the house was already buzzing — and I was running on fumes.

I remember one morning standing in the kitchen, holding a mug of lukewarm coffee I’d reheated for the third time, thinking, “This can’t be how every day starts.” I was exhausted, and it felt like I didn’t have even five minutes to myself.

It wasn’t until my partner gently pointed out that I’d been running on empty that I realized this wasn’t just about being tired. I didn’t have a system to recharge — even in the simplest of ways. That’s when I decided to invest in a coffee maker that worked for me. Not just any coffee maker, but one that made mornings smoother instead of harder.

Not too long ago, I realized I wasn’t moving as much as I thought I was. I would tell myself, “I’ve been on my feet all day!” but when I actually tracked it, the truth was far from what I imagined. My step count was embarrassingly low, and I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling so sluggish.

On top of that, my sleep never felt refreshing. I was waking up tired, and I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. Was I going to bed too late? Was my sleep restless? Or was it just part of getting older?

It felt frustrating because I wanted to make changes, but I didn’t have clear answers.

That’s when I decided to try a fitness watch.