Motherhood is a constant juggling act. Lately, I have felt stretched so thin, like I am being pulled in a million directions at once. It feels like I hear “Mama!” every three seconds, a relentless echo that follows me through the day. My mind is overstimulated, my patience is fraying, and all I want is a moment to breathe.

This morning was no different. I was just trying to get ready for work when I heard it again. “Mama!” She had a story for me. A few minutes later, another, “Mama!” This time, she wanted to show me a picture. I barely looked up. I nodded, murmured something encouraging, and continued what I was doing. In the moment, it felt like nagging.

But was it really? Or was that just my overwhelmed mind speaking?

Looking back, I see it so clearly. She wasn’t nagging—she was reaching out. She wanted connection. She wanted to feel seen. And I, caught in the endless list of to-dos, had momentarily lost sight of what truly mattered.

The Shift from One to Two: When Overwhelm Takes Over

With my first child, everything felt different. There was less to juggle. Fewer distractions. The moments felt precious, like tiny treasures to be savored. I could sit, listen, and give my undivided attention.

But with the second? It felt like I was drowning. No matter how hard I tried to stay afloat, the waves of responsibility kept coming. The guilt crept in.

And let me be clear—even with one child, overwhelm is real. I hit plenty of breaking points before my second was born. But with two, the balancing act became even harder.

A Familiar Feeling: Seeing My Own Childhood in My Daughter

Lately, I’ve been making a conscious effort to reflect on my own childhood. What was it like to be the second child? The one who sometimes felt overlooked unless something was terribly wrong?

And then, one day, I heard my daughter say it: “No one is listening to me.”

Her words hit me like a lightning bolt. Because I had felt that way, too. I knew that pain. I carried it with me for years. And now, history was repeating itself—right in front of me.

The Changes I’m Making: Creating Space for Her Voice

So, I’m trying. I am trying so hard to be more present. To really listen when I can. To put down the phone, pause the chores, and look her in the eyes when she speaks.

But I’m also learning balance.

Because the truth is, I can’t always drop everything the second she calls for me. That’s not realistic. And I don’t want her growing up thinking that the world will always be ready to listen the moment she wants to speak. That’s not how life works.

So, I’m working on setting clear expectations.

• When I can give her my full attention, I will.
• When I need a moment, I will tell her.
• When she speaks, I will make sure she knows she is heard.

Because she deserves that. Because she matters. Because I love her beyond words.

Breaking the Cycle: Motherhood, Boundaries, and Self-Care

But here’s the other thing: I matter, too.

I would be doing neither of us any favors by splitting my attention between tidying up the house and listening to her story. That only feeds my own deep-seated pattern of feeling like I have to do everything, be everything, hold everything.

I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for me.

So, what now?

Boundaries.

Boundaries that allow me to take care of myself without guilt. Boundaries that show her she is deeply valued, but also teach her patience and respect for others’ needs. Boundaries that break the cycle of feeling unseen, unheard, and overburdened.

Because in the end, that’s what motherhood is about—learning, growing, and loving fiercely while finding ways to honor ourselves in the process.