I’m a Working Mom, I’m Tired, and I’m Done Trying to Be Perfect
There are evenings when I close my laptop after a long workday and immediately feel as if another shift is waiting for me.
Homework.
Dinner.
Baths.
Bedtime.
A child asking for something.
Another child wanting to be carried.
And somewhere in between all of that, I would also like to exercise, watch television, scroll mindlessly for a while, work on my writing, study for my career and if I’m being completely realistic, sometimes do absolutely nothing.
That is usually when the mom guilt arrives.
Not dramatically.
Just a little voice in my head asking:
Shouldn’t you be doing more with your children?
And that’s the complicated part.
I work because of my children too.
I want to grow in my career.
I want to earn well.
I want to be able to pay for their higher education someday without constantly worrying about money.
I don’t want them to miss opportunities because we couldn’t afford them.
But sometimes the very thing I’m doing partly for them leaves me too exhausted to sit on the floor and play with them.
And I think that is a part of motherhood we don’t talk about enough.
I Work From Home, but That Doesn’t Mean I’m Always Available
My meetings usually start around 10 a.m.
Because I work from home, technically I am physically close to my children for much of the day.
But being in the same house doesn’t mean being available.
There are calls.
Deadlines.
Work that needs concentration.
Then there are things I want to do for myself and my future.
I work on my articles.
I study because I want to interview for better roles and grow professionally.
I think about my career because I want financial security.
And yes, sometimes I just want to scroll.
Motherhood doesn’t magically remove the part of me that wants rest, ambition or quiet.
But working from home can create this strange illusion:
You’re home, so why aren’t you with the children?
Because I’m working.
And sometimes, even when I’m no longer working, I’m tired.
Sometimes I Don’t Want to Go to the Play Area
There. I said it.
Taking children to a play area sounds lovely when you imagine it.
They run.
They play.
You watch them enjoy themselves.
Reality can look slightly different.
You’re standing around.
You’re following a toddler who has absolutely no understanding of danger.
You’re making small talk when you’d rather be doing almost anything else.
And you’re constantly scanning the playground to make sure nobody is about to fall off something.
One day, my younger daughter climbed up a slide structure and then couldn’t figure out how to get back down.
I could see her up there and my heart started pounding.
For a few seconds, all I could think was:
She’s going to fall.
A gentleman nearby eventually helped her down.
She was perfectly fine.
I was the one who needed recovery time.
That’s another reason I don’t always feel excited about going to play areas.
It’s not necessarily relaxing for the parent.
Sometimes it’s simply another form of supervision.
And yet, of course, when I don’t take them, that little voice appears again:
Shouldn’t you be taking your children out more?
The Sunday My Daughter Told Me She Was Dirty
One Sunday, our nanny was on holiday.
It was already around five in the evening when my older daughter announced:
“Mumma, nanny is not here today, so I am dirty. I didn’t take a bath.”
That sentence hit me harder than she probably intended.
For a second, I thought:
Does she associate the nanny with all her daily care?
Am I not doing enough?
But instead of turning it into a bigger issue, I told her:
“It’s okay. Sometimes you can skip a bath. It’s already evening. Come and play with me instead.”
And I actually think that moment taught me something.
Would bathing her have made me a better mother that day?
Or was choosing to spend some time together more valuable?
Children need hygiene, obviously.
But missing one bath isn’t a childhood crisis.
Sometimes we turn ordinary parenting tasks into evidence for or against our worth as mothers.
Did I cook?
Did I bathe them?
Did I read the story?
Did I make the healthy lunch?
Did I take them outside?
And somehow we keep score.
I’m trying to stop doing that.
Yes, We Have a Nanny, and I’m Grateful for Her
We have a nanny who helps take care of the children.
And I’m grateful for that help.
She handles things that I cannot always manage while I’m working.
But occasionally another thought creeps in:
Shouldn’t I be doing these things myself?
Bathing them.
Feeding them.
Keeping them occupied.
And then I have to remind myself:
Accepting help does not mean I have outsourced motherhood.
My children know exactly who their mother is.
My younger daughter makes that very clear.
Sometimes when I finish work, she becomes clingy and wants me to pick her up.
And I do.
I love cuddling her.
She’s adorable.
Those moments also remind me that children don’t calculate motherhood by counting how many baths you personally gave them.
They know where they feel loved.
My Husband Does Everything a Mother Can Do
This is something I think we need to say more often.
My husband doesn’t “help me” with the children.
He parents them.
If I have a call until eight at night, I can ask him to handle dinner or homework.
And he does.
Sometimes he tells them imaginary stories.
Sometimes he handles things I might otherwise have done.
There are evenings when I finish work and help with my older daughter’s homework while he sorts something else out.
Other times, he takes over.
And this has made me question something:
Why do mothers still feel guilty when fathers are parenting their own children?
If their father prepares dinner, the children have been fed.
If their father helps with homework, the homework has been done.
If their father tells them a bedtime story, they have still gone to sleep feeling loved.
It doesn’t somehow count less because Mom didn’t do it.
That is a lesson I’m still teaching myself.
Sometimes Dinner Is Bread and Egg
There are days when I think:
I should make something really healthy.
Something with protein.
Something with fibre hidden inside so the children actually eat it.
Something colourful and nutritious that would look respectable in a parenting article.
And then reality happens.
Sometimes dinner is bread and egg.
And you know what?
My daughter likes eggs.
So I’m actually not terribly guilty about that one.
I want to prepare more nutritious meals when I can.
But I am also learning that every dinner does not need to be a nutritional masterpiece.
A child who eats eggs and bread one evening is not being deprived.
There is a difference between caring about nutrition and turning food into another test of motherhood.
Sometimes the TV Is for Them. Sometimes It’s for Me.
This one is very real in our house.
Sometimes I let the children watch television because I need a break.
Not because I’ve carefully decided that this is the ideal educational viewing window.
Because I am tired.
Sometimes after dinner, my husband and I want to sit down, watch television and eat.
And sometimes our older daughter watches with us.
Would a parenting expert possibly recommend a beautiful screen-free family evening involving books and meaningful conversation?
Probably.
Do we occasionally want to eat dinner and watch TV?
Also yes.
I don’t think motherhood should require pretending that adults no longer need entertainment.
I like television too.
I like scrolling too.
I like having moments where nobody needs something from me.
The problem comes when guilt refuses to allow you to enjoy any of it.
You’re watching television, but thinking:
I should be reading to them.
You’re scrolling, but thinking:
I should be playing with them.
You’re studying for your career, but thinking:
I’m ignoring them.
You’re playing with them, but thinking:
I should be working.
There is always somewhere else we could be.
And if we’re not careful, mom guilt means we’re never fully present anywhere.
I Don’t Read Them a Story Every Night
There was probably a version of motherhood in my head once where bedtime looked like this:
Freshly bathed children.
Clean pyjamas.
Soft lighting.
Everyone snuggled together while I read a beautiful story.
Reality?
Some nights I am exhausted.
Some nights homework takes longer.
Some nights work runs late.
Some nights their father tells them an imaginary story instead.
And some nights there simply isn’t a story.
I’m learning that routines can be wonderful without becoming rules that determine whether we are good parents.
My children are not going to look back at their childhood and produce a spreadsheet showing how many bedtime stories I missed.
At least I hope not.
The Career Guilt Is More Complicated Than I Expected
Sometimes I think about friends who don’t have to work.
They have enough money that their careers don’t carry the same financial pressure.
And part of me thinks:
I want that too.
I want enough money that I don’t have to constantly wonder:
Should I change jobs?
Should I study more?
Should I prepare for another interview?
Am I earning enough?
What will higher education cost when my children grow up?
I don’t think my career ambition is separate from motherhood.
A lot of it is connected.
I want financial security.
I want my daughters to have choices.
But there is an uncomfortable irony in working hard to give your children a better future while sometimes feeling that you’re missing pieces of their present.
I don’t have a perfect answer to that.
Maybe there isn’t one.
My Children Don’t Need One Exhausted Parent Doing Everything
This is something I’m slowly beginning to understand.
My children have a mother.
They have a father.
They have a nanny.
They have teachers.
They have family.
They have people who love them.
Why did I ever assume every need had to be personally met by me?
Maybe that’s not the goal.
Maybe the goal is for children to grow up surrounded by dependable adults who care about them.
A mother who tries to do absolutely everything herself may not necessarily be giving her children more.
Sometimes she’s simply giving them a more exhausted version of herself.
I’m Trying to Stop Measuring Motherhood in Tasks
Bath given.
Homework completed.
Healthy dinner cooked.
Story read.
Play area visited.
Screen time controlled.
Vegetables consumed.
Boxes ticked.
Motherhood can very quickly start to feel like project management.
But my daughters don’t experience me as a checklist.
My younger daughter experiences me as the person she wants to cling to and cuddle.
My older daughter experiences me as the person she can come to with worries and questions.
They don’t know whether I’ve successfully hidden fibre in tonight’s dinner.
They know whether home feels safe.
That’s the big picture I’m trying to remember.
What Mom Guilt Is Teaching Me
I’m not trying to get rid of guilt completely.
Sometimes guilt is useful.
If I’m constantly distracted by my phone when my child is talking, perhaps I should put it down.
If screens are taking over every evening, perhaps something needs to change.
If I’m repeatedly too tired to connect with my children, perhaps I need to look at my routine.
But guilt should be information.
It shouldn’t become my identity.
There is a big difference between:
“I wish I had handled that differently.”
and
“I’m a bad mother.”
The first can help us change.
The second just hurts.
Maybe My Daughters Need to See Me Want Things Too
I want my daughters to see that their mother loves them deeply.
But I also want them to see something else.
A woman who works.
A woman who studies.
A woman who wants to grow.
A woman who exercises.
A woman who writes.
A woman who sometimes wants money, success, rest and a television show.
A woman who is their mother—but is still a person.
Perhaps that is not something I need to feel guilty about.
Maybe one day, when they are balancing their own careers, families, ambitions and exhaustion, they will remember that their mother didn’t do everything perfectly.
But she kept building a life.
For them.
And for herself.
What I’m Trying to Tell Myself Now
When the guilt gets loud, these are the things I’m trying to remember:
My husband parenting our children is not me failing.
Having a nanny does not make me less of a mother.
Bread and eggs can be dinner.
One missed bath is okay.
Not every evening needs to be educational.
My children can watch television sometimes.
I am allowed to rest.
I am allowed to want a successful career.
I am allowed to want financial security.
I can love my children deeply without spending every available minute entertaining them.
And perhaps the hardest one:
I don’t have to exhaust myself to prove that I love my children.
Final Thoughts
I don’t think I’ve completely let go of mom guilt.
Maybe I never will.
There will probably always be moments when I wonder whether I worked too much, played too little, cooked the wrong thing or should have read one more story.
But I’m starting to question the idea that a good mother is the one who does everything.
Maybe a good mother is simply someone who keeps showing up.
Sometimes tired.
Sometimes ambitious.
Sometimes impatient.
Sometimes cuddling a toddler immediately after closing her laptop.
Sometimes eating bread and eggs in front of the television.
Sometimes letting Dad handle bedtime.
Sometimes skipping the bath and saying:
“Come play with me instead.”
Not perfect.
Just present in the ways that matter.
And maybe that’s enough.
Your Turn
Do you ever feel guilty for working, resting, using childcare, ordering dinner or simply wanting some time that belongs to you?
What is the one “mom rule” you’re slowly learning to let go of?
Tell me in the comments.
I have a feeling a lot of us are carrying the exact same guilt—and thinking we’re the only ones.
