Lately, I’ve been indoors. Not because there’s nothing to do, trust me, the list of people I need to visit, the promises I’ve made to the kids (playdates, ice cream, swimming… all the things), and the general buzz of life calling my name, and waiting for me outside the door are very much alive and chaotic.
But I needed to rest.
Body, mind, soul- everything in me just needed to pause for a few days and reset, more or less.
So for the past few days, I’ve been choosing slow over busy. Indoors over errands. Quiet over chaos (even though let’s be honest, with toddlers, quiet is relative).
And even though this season of intentional slowing down sounds peaceful in theory… the reality? Let me walk you through a day in my life right now.
Morning: That False Sense of Calm
It usually starts off well.
I wake up before the kids (if I’m lucky), sneak a moment to stretch and do my relatively quiet prayer session before the day begins. I tell myself, ‘Today will be smooth.’
Then someone starts crying because they would rather wake up than keep sleeping peacefully.
Another is demanding cereal but wants the purple bowl, not the orange one.
The toddler’s cries and nagging need attending to.
And I haven’t brushed my teeth, neither have the kids, despite preaching that that should be done first thing every morning- even before chores.
It’s 8:30am.
I’m already sweating.
Midday: The In-Between Hours
This is when things blur.
One minute I’m giving out order on what should be done and the next minute I’m answering a “Muuuum, look!” every two seconds, the next I’m pretending not to notice that the younger kids have pulled out every single toy we just packed away the day before. And it’s not like they’d willingly put them away when it’s time. You’d have to talk and talk and cajole…
There’s usually a half-eaten lunch on the table.
A naptime battle.
Someone’s asking when we’re going for that hangout I promised ‘yesterday last week.’
Inside me, guilt tries to rise:
‘Why haven’t you taken them out yet?’
‘Why are you still indoors?’
‘Other mums are probably doing more…’
But I breathe.
Yes, I breathe…
Because I know this rest is necessary.
I know I’m not lazy. I’m simply recharging.
Afternoon: Lunch time, Screen Time and Survival
This is the hour where I let go of all the ‘perfect mum’ ideas and lean into realistic mum life.
Yes, I let them watch cartoons.
Yes, I give snacks I said I’d stop buying.
Yes, I scroll through my phone a bit longer than planned, because I just want to sit down without being touched.
Somewhere in between, we laugh.
We cuddle. I nap, if I’m lucky.
I ask questions like, ‘What would you do if you lived on the moon?’ just to hear their creative answers.
It’s not picture-perfect, but it’s ours.
Evening: Reset and Reflection
Dinner is what I can manage. It’s operation ‘everyone-in-the-kitchen-to-make-dinner’
The house looks like a mini hurricane passed through.
I’m thinking about the visits I still haven’t made, the aunties expecting me, the kids waiting on fun days out… and I feel the pressure again.
But I remind myself, I’m not failing.
I’m choosing to take care of me so I can show up better for them tomorrow.
I’m choosing to pour slowly instead of burning out quickly.
The Not-So-Cute Truth?
Motherhood isn’t always cute.
It’s not always neatly filtered or Pinterest-ready.
But it’s deeply real.
Exhausting.
Stretching.
Sacred.
And if that means staying indoors for a few days so I can gather strength?
If it means saying, ‘Soon, my loves,’ while we wait for a better week for playdates and visits?
Then so be it.
Because I’m learning that showing up as a rested, whole version of me matters more than ticking off every box on someone else’s timeline.
To every mum who feels like life is on pause right now, trust me, you’re not behind. You’re building strength in the quiet.
And soon, we’ll be back outside… running after scooters, laughing through park days, and finally saying yes to those long-awaited hangouts.
But for now?
I’m right here, resting, loving, surviving… one imperfectly beautiful day at a time.
Join me if you will!
XOXO
Yours Truly
Nikimandi
