Juggling Work, Kids, and Self-Care: A Day in My Life

I wake up at 6:05 a.m., which is hands down the absolute worst time in the world. I hate it with a fiery passion reserved for mornings that interrupt sleep too soon. Yet, somehow, here I am, blinking at the ceiling while my kittens explore the kitchen like tiny furry ninjas and the dogs glare at them like they’re plotting a hit. My morning routine isn’t just coffee and pajamas—it’s a full home disinfecting and cleaning ritual, tackling the messes left from the day before while making sure the house stays safe and non-toxic for my daughter’s chronic illness. Between spraying, wiping, and reorganizing, I feel like I’m running a tiny, highly sanitizing army.

Then begins the morning drama of getting the girls ready for school. Breakfast, teeth brushing, arguments about clothing, and inevitably the “I can’t find my shoe” panic. My eldest is learning to drive, so part of the fun is teaching her responsibility while she nervously navigates the driveway. Somehow, we all make it into the car for the ride to her school, me clutching the passenger seat while she carefully maneuvers, and the younger one offering unsolicited driving advice from the back seat. It’s equal parts comedy and terror, and by the time we drop her off, I feel like I deserve a medal—or at least a large cup of coffee.

By the time I’m back home, I finally settle in for work. I log into my part-time therapy caseload and put on the calm, professional face while my brain is still running through dinner plans, client notes, and tonight’s inevitable band rehearsal clash that won’t end until 7:30 p.m. Therapy is mental gymnastics: helping others process their emotions while keeping one eye on the kittens’ survival, the dogs’ mischief, and my daughter’s chronic illness needs.

High school life is a whirlwind. Between play practices and band, the evening doesn’t really begin until nearly sundown. I shuttle kids, instruments, uniforms, and occasional attitude from one activity to another, hoping everyone arrives in one piece. There’s yelling—mostly at myself—and constant reminders that life is messy but somehow still hilarious. Yet, in the chaos, there are tiny pockets of joy: the kids laughing at a shared joke, a small triumph in nailing a tricky music piece, or the kittens curling up together and surviving the dogs’ curiosity.

Meanwhile, maintaining the house is its own adventure. Dishes stack into precarious towers, laundry multiplies like rabbits, and I dodge spills, pet accidents, and stray instruments. Self-care usually consists of a few stolen sips of tea, a deep breath in the quietest corner I can find, and silently congratulating myself for keeping everything from burning down.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, I’m trying to start a new business. Sticky notes scatter across the counters, Canva designs glare at me from my laptop, and I scribble ideas I’ll inevitably forget before they turn into anything tangible. It’s like juggling flaming torches while walking on a tightrope over kittens and high schoolers—terrifying, thrilling, and occasionally productive.

Through it all, I manage my daughter’s chronic illness. Medications, appointments, and dietary restrictions are non-negotiable, woven into every single moment. It’s exhausting, but it also gives me a grounding purpose: even on the most chaotic days, I’m doing something vital.

By evening, I collapse for a moment, convinced I can breathe. But my mind keeps spinning: therapy notes, business plans, tomorrow’s schedule, and the hope that the kittens survived another dog encounter. And yet, despite the chaos, I find moments of joy—my kids laughing after a long day, a kitten curling up in my lap, or even the rare quiet when I can hear my own thoughts. Life as a single mom of two high schoolers, a therapist, a budding entrepreneur, and full-time chaos coordinator is messy, exhausting, hilarious, and deeply rewarding. I wouldn’t trade it for anything…except maybe a pause button at 6:05 a.m. for just five more minutes of sleep. Until then, I juggle, laugh, cry, and keep going—one chaotic day at a time.