You know that feeling when you're lying in bed, exhausted to your bones, but your mind won't stop racing? You worry that maybe you're missing out on something crucial about being a mum. That fear creeps in, whispering that maybe you're not enjoying these precious years with your kids as much as you should. And the guilt? It's heavy, like a stone in your chest. You're scared that your exhaustion and frustration are robbing you of the joy of motherhood, and that maybe, just maybe, you're damaging your little ones by losing your cool too often (sorry only works so many times before it stops sounding like "I'm sorry" and more like "I know I do this but I won't change" 🫣)

But deep down, you also know what you want. You want to actually look forward to the day with your babes, to be able to handle your shit. You want to stop worrying about shit that just doesn't matter and maybe have a bit of energy left at the end of the day for your partner. And oh, how you yearn for just a slice of time for yourself, to hit the gym or dive back into those hobbies you once loved. You want to feel alive, to cherish these moments with your kids, to look back on this time with warmth and nostalgia, not regret. Oh, and you want to unpack your own baggage, so your kids don't have to carry it forward.

Not that much to ask, right?