Welcome back, dear reader. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas time and a good start to the new year.

Where to start. It took me a long time to write this post – not knowing how much to share, or whether to share at all. My last post was in late September, and there is a reason it’s been a while that I have decided to share.

In spring of 2025, I first realised how burnt out I felt. Bone-tired, overwhelmed by small things, not enjoying life anymore, just getting through. I hoped it would get better once summer was here and I could take a break from work, but I just deteriorated. At the end of August, my body was in a bad place. Headaches, dizziness, extreme fatigue, listlessness, heart racing and anxiety attacks – and I knew this went deeper than a normal exhaustion.

Seeking help, I managed to get to a place where I could even contemplate working on my everyday life, my thoughts and my problems, but, having gone through depression before, I know it is a long journey. A journey of relearning the way I think about myself, relearning how to take care of myself, relearning to find joy in life.

For some reason, I shied away from writing, maybe because I felt whatever I had to say too insignificant to share. I mean, who is even reading my words flung out into a world drowning in people’s thoughts and opinions? I often wonder.

And yet, here I am. New beginnings on this cold January evening, snuggled up next to Eloise (our Christmas tree), ready to write again. Write for myself, write to get these thoughts of my chest – and maybe – maybe – share them with someone out there who takes something away from them.

With the new year commencing, there is plenty of pressure to have resolutions, plans, to become better. This year, I have none of the above. My only resolutions are to be kinder to myself, give me some grace, and to embrace the activities and things that bring me joy – so I can also become a better mother without the pressure of “bettering” me.

I have been craving a change inside myself for so long, but I didn’t know how to start. How to work with the anger inside me, the anger at myself, the world, the people around me. How to implement all these things I KNOW will be good for me – hypnosis, yoga, drinking water, eating clean. In my stress to destress, I stressed myself even more – so there are no resolutions of BECOMING better, but of GETTING better. In this post I want to share my ideas for a more relaxed and kinder year 2026 as a mum, to enjoy being with my kids, instead of being constantly overwhelmed.

Limit the “parenting”

For a few months now I’ve been wading through Alison Gopnik’s brilliant book The Gardener and the Carpenter, which I already referenced it in another article from April. Very thick and well-researched, it’s a bone I’m still gnawing, but always find incredible to read when I do. In it, Gopnik condemns “parenting” as an over-the-top trend, saying doing less as a parent benefits children and parents alike. She also mentions that parents have never before done so much for their children/spent time with them, and were never so unhappy as parents as before.

While addressing that she applauds the change to take care of children and their needs as it should be, she also criticises many social systems and structures which led to the “parenting” obsession – “parenting” also meaning that your child is your “project” to succeed at.

Her notions have helped me take a step back. A step back from overdoing it. A step towards simplifying it. Especially during the Christmas break, I’ve noticed the difference. Lily and Finn have played a lot together, wonderfully so. Of course, sometimes there are fights and I can hear one child crying from the living room. Instead of rushing over full or worry and anger (for one child must be to blame), I wait and listen. And, more often than not, they figure it out by themselves. The one child apologises to the other and vice versa, they find compromises – and if they don’t they come to me and I help them find a solution.

Her book and the works of Dr Siggie Cohen on Instagram have helped me, too, to put less weight and guilt on myself when I do something wrong. I come from an exceptionally pedagogical background, so the ante is right up there. This leads to me judging myself for every little mistake I make, every time I raise my voice, every time I grit my teeth, every time I throw a tantrum. The guilt hangs so heavy on my heart, and my therapist made me realise how little it does for anybody – not for me or my children. If I want to teach them forgiveness, I have to start with myself.

Letting go of the Pinterest home and accept the occasional mess

Every single person who steps over my threshold says how cosy and nice our home is. And yet, I always find it wanting. The daily grind of laundry, tidying up, cleaning, etc to achieve…what? A Pinterest board fantasy? My therapist told me: No one ever lay on their deathbed and wished they’d done more cleaning in their life.

I’m not a good cleaner. In fact, I’m not a good housewife (she wrote, hating this term). I’m more interested in shoving furniture around, doing cool wall murals for my kids, reading a book, or writing a story – and yet I’m always stressed by disorganisation in the house – partially, I guess, because it represents my disorganised mind. I can feel myself draining of energy, and yet I don’t take a break. I can hear my kids calling me, wanting to connect to play, but it’s always “let me first”, “I’ll be there in a minute” (and never am), “First I do this, this and that, and THEN I come”. Partly, I think it is because interactions with the kids overwhelm me quickly at the moment, while cleaning gives me a breather and the organising helps me relax my brain.

So a few days ago, I celebrated a little success. The kids were having a rare TV treat and I unpacked the groceries and then I left the kitchen, even though it was still messy. Even though it wasn’t “finished”. I sat down on my desk and wrote after over a month of not touching the book I’m writing on right now. I let myself be consumed by my own created world, by the words flowing from my mind to the page, from the story taking shape. When the kids were finished with their show, I stopped writing and we tidied up the kitchen together. Win-win.

Engage in activities with the children I like doing and initiate the activity

Children are emotional cups. If their connection, their bonding to their caregivers isn’t filled, they will ask it to be filled – even in ways that appear annoying to you. Usually, my kids’ cups are not filled when my own cup isn’t filled either. That makes it hard because in the moment where you have least to give, they need you most. Especially as my burnout was at its peak, I found interacting with the kids quickly overwhelming.

What I’m doing (and sometimes still failing to do) now is cup-front-loading. You may have heard of front-loading in the context of household chores, meaning you do all the work as early as possible, so you can then relax (which, in fact, is also very problematic, but that’s a topic for another day). With the kids, I try to font-load, especially when I need more me-time, due to my mental state, my cycle or lack of sleep.

Playing with children can be mind-numbingly boring, let’s be all honest here. You’re being shoved around by your little midget, told off for doing it wrong, and the same three actions are repeated a million times (bangs head against the wall).

The good news, there are plenty of activities you can do with your child on your terms. Playing with your child doesn’t have to mean you do everything THEY say. Especially for only children, it is pivotal to learn compromising (for children with siblings, too, but they usually have to pick that skill up, if they want to or not). I always say to my daughter: “I’m not your play slave.”

By initiating an activity, my children feel seen and wanted. I suggest playing a game, reading books, or maybe indulge in playing with the cars or dolls, but only when I can play my part of the game the way I want to play (this is still a bit hard for Lily, but she’s getting there).

I find often that doing something with your kids is like doing sports. You are reluctant at first because you anticipate it’s going to be boring or you won’t get it, but then it’s actually fun and connects you with your child. During the holidays, we did a lot of crafting. I usually hate crafting but I found cool activities books for children and adults where you have everything you need inside the book and can make fun Christmas crafts. We spent hours sitting at the kitchen table, drinking cocoa and crafting. Finn often easing out and playing, then finding his way back.

The point is: I want to do activities with my children I actually enjoy doing with them. This way, I can initiate and invite them instead of them begging me to interact. For some activities I say a clear no but give an alternative. Mostly, the kids ease into their own activities after twenty to thirty minutes, and I gently ease out of the game.

Sleep, drink, eat, repeat

We all know we should sleep more, eat healthy and drink plenty of water – doing these things consistently is the problem.

With my mental health in decline towards the end of 2025, I’ve realised that the holy trinity of sleep, nourishment and water isn’t just a choice anymore for me. It’s a necessity to get better, to heal, to be able to be the mum I want to be. Cleaning up my bedtime routine is something I’m still struggling with (I’m a night owl at heart), but I’m trying every day – cutting me slack, though. How insane sleep deprivation is, I only full and wholly understood when, due to my ascending depression, I couldn’t sleep anymore. Only when I started sleeping again, I realised I could heal and work on myself. I’m never going to underestimate the power of sleep again.

And that’s it from me for today. I hope you can relax this winter – and don’t forget, the new year doesn’t really start until the spring equinox. January is for rest, contemplation and relaxation. And with that, I’m going back to hibernation. See you soon.