Fast forward half an hour, I was feeling pretty proud of my progress. Until I looked down.

I can confirm, sadly, it was not sun cream. Cue some parenting I’m not proud of, featuring some shouting with the odd expletive.

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Once the paint was eventually all washed off I got to thinking: why on earth did I think this would be a good idea?! Then it dawned on me.

All morning I’d felt uncomfortable. That particular kind of wired tired restlessness where you can’t sit still even though you have absolutely nothing left in the tank.

Instead of resting what did I do? I fell into the trap I think all mums do from time to time. I took action. Because apparently sitting down when I’m exhausted is harder for me than getting a tin of paint out and starting an entirely unnecessary DIY project with two small children.

I’ve been noticing recently that when I feel overwhelmed or anxious, I can’t stop. I do the opposite. I find something to do with the mentality of, ‘I’ll push through’. Because if I can finish a task I’ll have something I can point to and think, there. At least I did that.

Except this morning it didn’t make me feel better. It just added to that feeling in the pit of my stomach. And when a two year old behaved exactly like a two year old and played with the paint I’d left out, I didn’t have the patience for it.

For a long time I’ve confused getting things done with feeling better:

When the kitchen is tidy, I’ll relax.

When I finish this ironing, I’ll sit down.

If I just get these few things done first, then I’ll feel like I can stop.

Except there is always. another. thing. It turns out motherhood is particularly good at supplying them!

I’m starting to realise how uncomfortable I actually am with doing nothing and how often “I need to rest” somehow turns into “I’ll just do this first”.

I’m not writing this from the other side of it with a neatly packaged five-step solution for becoming a calmer mum who knows when she’s reached her limit. Obviously. There is currently a half-painted playhouse in my garden that would make that quite a difficult sell! I do feel I’m getting better at noticing it though.

Some days I can catch myself before I spiral. But today I half painted a playhouse on four hours’ sleep with two small children.

So, you know. I’m a mum that hasn’t got it all figured out. I’m a work in progress! Let me know below if you are too, I read every single comment 💗

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A little note about mum+

The everyday life management app I built just for mums

mum+ won’t stop me deciding to paint a playhouse when I should probably be sitting down with a cuppa. I’m not sure any app can save me from myself to that extent.

I built it for all the everyday stuff:

The school non-uniform day, things we need from the shop, appointments, saved recipes, things to do, handy links I know I’ll need again and all the other bits of mum life that somehow end up scattered between my brain, screenshots, Notes and more random apps than I care to count.

mum+ gives that stuff one place to live. Not so I can get more done, just so there’s a little less for me to carry around with me while I’m doing everything else.

Because motherhood will probably always be a lot.

I just want to make one bit of it easier.

Try it free here: mum+ app 💗

Kia x
Founder of mum+

After much thought, here’s a theory I’ve never really seen written about:

Men experience completed tasks.

Women experience uninterrupted responsibility.

They’re completely different psychological experiences.

The interesting part is that most mums already know this. But does your partner?Here’s how to explain it to them so they actually get it. Here goes…

Imagine your partner is a footballer. His role is pretty simple: turn up and play to the best of his ability.

After the game, he says: ‘I played really well today’. He isn’t wrong. He did. Happy days.

Now, let’s imagine you’re the manager of the football team.

Your job is quite simple, right? Win.

But is it THAT simple? Because we all know winning doesn’t come as easy as that. Winning isn’t one task. It’s an umbrella for lots of smaller things you have sole responsibility for:

• making sure everyone turns up

• knowing who’s injured

• organising transport

• deciding team tactics

• remembering the match time

• making sure everyone’s paid subs

• bringing the equipment

• texting everyone if kick-off time changes

• checking the pitch isn’t waterlogged.

And then imagine at the end of the season there’s no title or trophy to be won. Because let’s face it, there is no winning or losing in motherhood, just more of the same.

You can see how over years this imbalance in responsibility could easily lead to resentment. Your partner experienced the match. You experienced the entire system that made the match possible. They both require effort, agreed. But they aren’t comparable.

And I wonder if that’s why “just tell me what needs doing” feels like a drop in the ocean. To him, it’s generosity. He’s offering labour. To her it sounds like: “carry on being the manager.” When what she really needs is for him to be the assistant manager.

I'd love to hear your take. I read every comment, and I genuinely enjoy the conversations that happen here.

If you know another mum who'd nod along while reading this, I'd be so grateful if you shared it with her. If you’re after more honest conversations about motherhood, please subscribe!

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“Mum and Dad are coming over at 6pm for a barbecue and to watch the World Cup”.

He’d already invited them.

No conversation. No, “What do you think?”, just… here’s what’s happening.

And I immediately felt myself getting angry. Proper irrational, “why am I feeling like I want to rage clean the house from top to bottom?”, angry.

If you’d asked my husband what happened, he’d probably say (and in fact did later on actually say), “I just invited my parents round for a barbecue.” And he’d be right.

But that’s not what happened in my head.

In the space of about ten seconds, my brain had given me a blow-by-blow rundown of the evening:

The house is an absolute STATE.

We don’t have barbecue food.

The kids will be beside themselves because Nanny and Grandad are here.

The little one will refuse bedtime because she’ll have FOMO.

One of us will have to disappear upstairs for bedtime. (Let’s be honest, it’ll probably be me).

I tried to push all these feelings down, way down. I really did. I knew it sounded ridiculous. It’s only a barbecue. So why did it feel so overwhelming?

The thing is, I don’t actually mind having people over.

I like my in-laws.

I like barbecues.

I even quite like hosting.

What I struggle with is being the person responsible for the consequences of everyone else’s plans.

For the default parent simple, off the cuff plans like, “Let’s have a barbecue”, actually becomes:

How late will bedtime be?

Will tomorrow be ruined because everyone’s overtired?

Will my little one have a breakdown when everyone leaves?

Who’ll clean up afterwards?

Who’ll reset everything ready for tomorrow morning?

I miss the version of me who would’ve said, “Sounds fun!”, with genuine enthusiasm and without mentally opening seventeen tabs in my brain first.

Sometimes I wonder whether I have become the control freak my husband jokes I am. Should I be more easy-going? Then I remember that most days I’m juggling a hundred tiny decisions before breakfast:

What should the kids wear to nursery?

Did I even pay nursery this month?

Has nursery got spare clothes?

Have we got any Calpol in the medicine box?

Did I reply to that message?

Did I get that refund from ASOS?

Where’s the other shoe?

By the time someone casually adds something else to my day, it doesn’t feel casual anymore. It feels like someone adding another brick to a backpack I’ve been carrying since 6am.

The irony is that from the outside, I probably do look like a control freak. From the inside, it doesn’t feel like control. It feels like responsibility. And maybe that’s why so many mums seem less spontaneous than they used to be.

It’s not because we don’t like fun. It’s because fun often comes with a ton of invisible admin.

Just to be clear, this is not in any way a husband-bashing article.

Mine is a good one.

He probably thought he was organising something nice.

But there are moments when I wish he could borrow my brain for just five minutes. Not because I want him to feel guilty. Just so he’d understand why the words, “I’ve invited Mum and Dad round”, felt so heavy.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll read this back and think I overreacted. Maybe I did. Or maybe this is just what motherhood does?

It teaches you to see around corners.

To anticipate problems before they happen.

To spend your days thinking about everyone else’s needs. Then realise nobody stopped to ask about yours.

It’s exhausting.

And sometimes… the mention of a barbecue is all it takes to tip you over that invisible edge you’ve been teetering on all day.

I’d love to be the mum who just “goes with the flow”. I just don’t feel like I get to.

So maybe I am a bit of a control freak now. But I don’t think I was born that way.

I think motherhood quietly turned me into one.

Lots of love,

from one tired mum to another,

Kia x

Have you ever completely lost it over something that wasn’t really the thing?

I’d love to hear your story in the comments.