Staying Centered When Life Is Life-ing (and You’re A Mama)

Can we do a collective WoooooSahhhhhh 😅🤣

Yoooo, Motherhood has a way of asking everything of you at the exact moment you feel like you have the least to give. Anyone else?

Some days I feel grounded, patient, steady. I’m responding instead of reacting. I’m breathing before speaking. I’m showing up in the way I want my child to remember.

And some days… I’m tired by noon. The coffee didn’t hit. My nervous system is already on edge.

Life has been loud lately. And my child still needs me to be her calm.

That part is the hardest for me.

Not the diapers. Not the tantrums. Not even the sleepless nights.

It’s being someone’s emotional home while navigating my own storms.

Because here’s the truth we don’t always say out loud:

Motherhood doesn’t pause life’s difficulties. It happens alongside them.

Bills still come. Relationships still strain. Housing issues happen. Health scares pop up. Old wounds surface at the worst possible times. And somehow, in the middle of all that, a little human is looking at you like, “So… are we okay?, We still hitting the park today???” 

And your answer, whether spoken or not, becomes their reality.

LMAO,No pressure.

I used to think staying “centered and balanced” meant being calm all the time. Soft voice. Regulated nervous system. Always responding with wisdom and grace.

I never thought I’d be the parent that lost her cool, that yelled when she didn’t want to.

That belief humbled me reeeeal fast.

What I’m learning instead is this:

Being centered doesn’t mean you’re unbothered.

It means you know how to come back.

Back to your breath.

Back to your body.

Back to yourself.

And learning how to repair with your child.

And give yourself grace.

Sometimes that looks like pausing mid-sentence because you’re about to snap. Sometimes it’s apologizing to your child. Sometimes it’s crying in the bathroom for two minutes and then wiping your face like, “Okay. We’re doing this.”

And honestly? That return is the success.

Our children don’t need perfect calm. They need safety. They need consistency. They need to know that emotions can move through without destroying the connection.

When I’m overwhelmed, I try to remember:

My nervous system sets the tone of our home.

Not in a “blame the mother” way. But in a powerful way.

When I slow my breath, her body feels it.

When I soften my shoulders, her energy shifts.

When I choose presence over perfection, she learns resilience.

And some days, staying centered looks very unglamorous.

It looks like going to bed early instead of pushing through.

It looks like saying no, even when guilt creeps in.

It looks like choosing one small regulating practice instead of trying to “fix everything.”

I’ve learned that balance in motherhood isn’t something you achieve and then keep forever. It’s something you practice, lose, and re-practice again and again.

Life will LIFE. You will wobble.

What matters is that your child sees you return to center, not that you never leave it.

So if today feels heavy…

If you’re holding more than you expected…

If you’re doing your best to stay grounded for your child while quietly navigating your own challenges…

You’re not failing. You’re mothering.

And that, in itself, is powerful work.

You got this mama