There was a season when I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. Every moment of my day was spent tending to someone else’s needs—snacks, games, schoolwork, attention—and by bedtime, I was so drained that I had nothing left for myself. I loved being present for my kids, but I realized I was running on empty.

I remember one trip where I thought, “Why did we even try this?” Between packing for everyone, managing snacks, keeping kids entertained, and navigating airports or long car rides, I was completely drained before we even arrived at our destination. What should have been fun turned into stress, and I felt like I had no time for myself—just another long list of things to do.

I remember the season when exhaustion felt like my new normal. I was moving from one thing to the next—packing lunches, doing laundry, answering emails, running errands—always on autopilot. By the time I sat down at night, I realized I hadn’t had a single moment for myself all day. I was running our family, but I wasn’t living.

It took us a while to realize that this wasn’t just “life being busy.” This was a problem. I was burning out. Our family rhythm was all over the place, and instead of life feeling connected and joyful, it felt like we were just surviving each day. That realization was heavy, but it also sparked the change we needed.

We decided to simplify. Not overnight, not perfectly, but slowly, with intention. And while we’re still learning every day, I can tell you this: simplifying routines has made our home calmer, our relationships stronger, and our days more manageable.

I used to wake up every morning already feeling behind. The day hadn’t even started, but the weight of exhaustion was already sitting heavy on my chest. Between work, family, and the endless to-do list, there was no time left for me. I told myself this was just “life,” that exhaustion was normal, and that the feeling of never having a moment to breathe was something everyone went through.

But slowly, I started to notice how much it was costing me. I wasn’t present with the people I loved. I was shorter-tempered, less creative, and felt disconnected from myself. The moment I realized something had to change was the day I found myself standing in the kitchen, staring out the window at an overgrown patch of weeds in the yard—and realizing that the outside space I had always dreamed of enjoying had become just another reminder of how little time I had for myself.

That was the turning point. I didn’t need more hours in the day. I needed a way to find peace inside the hours I already had.

And that’s where gardening came in.

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.

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.

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.

I’ll be honest—there was a stretch of life when parenting felt like drowning.
I was exhausted, our routines were chaotic, screens ruled the house, and mealtime often ended in tears (sometimes mine). I was snappy with my kids, disconnected from my partner, and constantly surrounded by clutter that felt like it was closing in.

I would lay in bed at night scrolling through my phone, wondering: Why does everyone else seem to have it together, and I’m barely hanging on?
The guilt was crushing.

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.