We need volunteers for this committee; could you lend a hand? How about being the room parent? Would you be interested in a board position? Are you up for leading a group? My instinctive reaction is an enthusiastic “Yes, absolutely!” I thrive on being involved and contributing. It’s in my nature as the eldest sibling to take charge.
But then reality hits. Unfortunately, I must decline. Why? Because as a mom of little ones, there are days when finding time for a shower feels like a luxury. Even if I jot it down in my planner, I often forget. I frequently misplace crucial items, such as my wallet or, at times, my temper.
I recognize that many parents, whether stay-at-home or working, manage to juggle their responsibilities with grace. They hold titles, attend meetings, and have obligations that others depend on. This capable group seems to have an uncanny ability to follow through consistently. They don’t forget appointments, like a dentist visit at 10 a.m., despite seeing it on the calendar just a few hours earlier.
These individuals manage to shower and dress in actual clothes (non-pajama) on a daily basis—sometimes for no apparent reason at all. They accomplish tasks, remember birthdays, and even send gifts on time.
I am not one of these people.
Coming to terms with my limitations has been a journey. After dropping too many balls and disappointing my own kids more times than I can count, I often found myself embarrassed as I scrambled at the last minute to fulfill commitments I’d made.
All of this could have been avoided with a simple word: No.
- No, I can’t.
- No, I’m sorry.
- No, not right now.
I wish I could help, but until my children can dress themselves, pour their own milk, and manage their hygiene without my assistance—until they no longer need me to hold them, I simply cannot contribute.
During our first summer in a new neighborhood, right before my oldest started kindergarten, I wore the baby in a carrier while attempting to keep my other kids in line at a local swim meet. I was a sweaty mess, managing a swim bag on one side and a restless four-year-old on the other. As I passed an active swim mom whose youngest was nine, I admitted, “I wish I could help, but I just can’t.”
Her response was life-changing. “Oh, we understand, and you will! Just not yet. We’ve all been in your shoes a few years back. Don’t worry about it.”
In that moment, I felt an immense sense of relief and gratitude. She gave me the permission I didn’t know I needed to take my time and join in when I can—just not right now.
I look forward to volunteering more in the future, but for now, “helping mommy” means something very different than it will in a few years. Until tasks like “clean your room” resemble actual cleaning rather than a chaotic pile of laundry, and until “I’m hungry” isn’t called out every 90 minutes, I can’t engage as I’d like.
So, to the moms of older kids who understand our struggles, thank you for taking care of what needs to be done right now. We are eager to learn from you and, when our little ones are ready, we’ll gladly pitch in.
And to you, fellow mother of little ones, don’t feel guilty about saying “no” or dropping a few balls while trying to say “yes.” We’ve all experienced this. Be kind to yourself; finding the right balance takes time. The day will come when “yes” feels achievable.
Perhaps instead of one word, we need five: Yes, in about four years.
For those interested in exploring home insemination, check out this impregnator at home insemination kit. It’s a valuable resource for those navigating this journey. Also, for insights into sensory play, you can visit this site, which offers great information. For more support on female infertility, this resource is an excellent option.
In summary, as a mother of young children, it’s essential to recognize your limits and communicate them. Embrace the season of life you’re in, and know that your time to engage more fully will come.