031 – Worn Thin

In my last post, I wrote about finding—and giving—more grace in this season. Little did I know how quickly I would need to take my own advice. The two weeks following its publication have been a whirlwind, and if I’m honest, I’ve felt worn thin.

The days have been filled with children’s sporting events, Christmas concerts, holiday parties, and doctor’s appointments. Even the days we normally protect for rest slipped through our fingers, and when rest disappears, everything else begins to wobble. Laundry piled up. Chores fell behind. I counted it as a win that the garbage still made it to the curb on time.

Stay-at-home motherhood has me busier than ever before. When I worked outside the home, stress came in predictable waves—meetings, deadlines, and then clocking out. Now the stress lives inside the walls of our home, without the clear boundary of a workday to break it up. It’s a different kind of weight, one I knowingly chose, but one that still surprises me in its constancy.

December weather has us tucked indoors, and close quarters have made tensions run high. There are more arguments to referee, more verdicts to deliver, more small humans convinced I exist solely as judge and butler. Socks are scattered across the house because, somehow, the connection between laziness and missing clean socks remains elusive. 

I’ve also felt discouraged in my efforts to steward my children’s health. Public school sends them home with pockets full of candy nearly every day, and despite my best planning and intention, junk still finds its way in. A dentist visits this week confirmed cavities for my two oldest—something we’ll address early in the new year, but a reminder that even our most careful systems aren’t foolproof.

As if that weren’t enough, Emma is battling a double ear infection—something she’s been prone to since infancy. A windstorm knocked out power across the region and cancelled school, so we used the unexpected day off to visit urgent care. For three nights in a row, her ear pain led her to my bed in the early hours, and sleep has been scarce. I’m hopeful the antibiotics will bring relief soon.

Maybe this is simply the reality of December—busy by design. Maybe I overcommitted without realizing it. Or maybe the full weight of stay-at-home motherhood has finally settled in. I imagined slower mornings filled with Bible study, writing here and on my novel, workouts tucked neatly into my day. Or preparations for our future garden and livestock danced in my head.  Instead, many of the things I hoped for myself have been pushed to the back burner, and my own health has quietly paid the price. I don’t even sleep in my own bed anymore.

The holiday season is meant to center our hearts on Christ—on His arrival in God’s redemptive story. Yet lately, I’ve felt bogged down by distractions, some good and some not. I feel scattered, out of control, and gently convicted that it’s time to start saying “no,” not out of bitterness, but out of stewardship.

So here is where grace meets resolve. These are the boundaries I’m re-establishing as we move forward:

• No Sunday evening gatherings. We need that time to reset our home and our hearts for the week ahead.
• Fewer last-minute friend dates. As lovely as they can be, they add another layer of planning and derail the rhythms that keep our household functioning.
• Re-emphasized bedtimes—in their own beds. Rest is not optional, for them or for me.
• Better tooth-brushing habits. A daily timer, no exceptions.
• Shared chores. I cannot do it all, and I shouldn’t. I have capable children who need to learn responsibility.
• A return to routine. Not rigid perfection, but steady, life-giving structure.