I’ll never forget the night I sat on the living room floor, completely drained, staring at the pile of laundry that I had promised myself I’d fold “after the kids went to bed.” My body ached, my mind was foggy, and I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I had done something just for me.

Parenting had become a blur of early mornings, endless meals, tantrums, school drop-offs, and cleaning up the same messes on repeat. By the time I finally had a moment to myself, I was too exhausted to do anything but scroll on my phone. And even then, guilt whispered that I should be “using my time better.”

That was the moment I realized: I had completely fallen out of my own life.

It wasn’t just about being tired—it was about never refilling my cup. And I knew if I didn’t change something, exhaustion would keep stealing the joy out of parenting.

Parenting wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
We thought exhaustion would pass once we could sleep through the night. But instead, it showed up in different ways: chaotic mornings, endless chores, never-ending screen battles, and guilt that made us feel like we weren’t enough.

The truth? We had fallen into the parent burnout spiral.

It started with tired mornings, which led to rushed routines. Rushed routines led to skipped meals, more screen time for the kids, and more guilt for us. By the end of the day, we were drained, frustrated, and disconnected—from our kids, from each other, and from ourselves.

The spiral wasn’t just about being tired. It was about being stuck. And once we realized that, we knew something had to change.

There was a season when parenting didn’t feel steady for us. Our routines were unpredictable, rest felt out of reach, screens filled the quiet moments, meals felt tense, and the house carried more clutter than our minds could manage.

But beneath all of that, there was something deeper going on, something we didn’t have language for at the time:

We were trying to raise a family without a village.

And most parents we’ve talked to feel that way too.

The real turning point wasn’t a dramatic moment. It was a quiet realization shared between exhausted parents one night:

“We can’t keep doing this alone. And maybe… we don’t have to.”

So we made a decision, not to fix everything at once, not to chase perfection, but to start with one challenge at a time. Small, consistent steps. More grace. More connection. More honesty. And more community.

That’s how this 10-week series was born.

Not as a top-down guide, but as an invitation to rebuild something bigger than any one household:
a modern village where we learn, share, and grow together.

The truth hit me one night when I snapped at my child over something tiny, something that wasn’t about them at all. It was about me. I was burnt out, stretched too thin, and trying to do everything without any plan. That’s when I realized: this wasn’t working. Something had to change.