I’m a mom of two—a boy (10) and a girl (12). I work from home. So does my husband. And like a lot of you, I spend most days trying to hold it all together without totally losing it.
Here’s the short list of things I try to stay on top of:
Cooking homemade meals (because I actually love it… when I’m not exhausted)
Keeping track of school events, homework, activities, permission slips, all of it
Spending real time with my husband; not just sitting next to each other on laptops
Planning occasional family road trips to shake us out of routine
Keeping the house clean and organized enough that I don’t feel like I’m drowning
And when there’s time left? Taking care of me—a workout, a moment to breathe, a podcast that isn’t about parenting or productivity
Some weeks, I feel like I’ve got a good rhythm. Other weeks, it’s survival mode. I’m throwing together whatever’s in the fridge, rescheduling dentist appointments, promising myself I’ll catch up on work over the weekend—and then not doing it, because I’m tapped out.
The pressure to “balance it all” is real. But I’ve stopped thinking of balance as a finish line or a 50/50 split. For me, it’s more like a scale that’s constantly adjusting. Some days tip toward the kids. Some days, toward deadlines. Some days, toward the laundry pile that’s slowly taking over the living room.
It’s not perfect. But it’s mine.
I’ve learned to ask myself a few questions that help me recalibrate:
Where do I actually need to show up today?
What can slide without everything falling apart?
And when’s the last time I sat with my kids without multitasking?
Those moments—the ones where I put my phone down, really listen, or share something that’s been on my mind—are what bring me back to center. They don’t fix the overwhelm, but they remind me why I care so much about trying in the first place.
I still struggle with mom guilt. I don’t think that ever fully goes away. But I’ve stopped trying to eliminate it. Now I just try to make peace with it, knowing it comes from love, not failure.
I’m also learning that balance doesn’t mean doing everything all the time. It means choosing what matters most right now, and trusting that the rest can wait a little.
This is the version of balance that’s working for me right now:
Flexible. Imperfect. Intentional.
And I’m curious: what does your version look like?
What helps you feel grounded when everything’s pulling you in different directions?
What are you proud of lately, even if no one else sees it?
Hit reply. I’d love to hear your take.

Kristel (TA Marketing Ops)