Can I admit something to you?
While I love the routine of the kids being back at school, I also secretly dread it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the newfound time or quiet. Back to school quite literally means back to a solid work schedule for me with some hours in the day to pour and do admin work. But there’s also something about the time constraint, the lunch making, the hustle and anxiety of drop offs and pickups…the pressure to put on decent clothing, make sure you’ve brushed your teeth and hair and exchange niceties with fellow parents who seemingly aren’t as frazzled as you. It feels like endless preparation. Not to mention the volunteering, constant fundraisers, trips that need parent drivers ( what happened to taking the school bus to field trips??), the conferences, early dismissals, open houses, seasonal concerts, spirit days, sport days, afterschool activities…The school calendar is a whole affair in itself.
I mention the other non “seemingly” frazzled parents but I know they’re also feeling it. Every conversation confirms it. It’s just that some have better routines and masking abilities. But I’ve seen enough parents get back into their car after drop off, lower their heads and deep sigh so hard their ancestors could hear them. We give each other the look of acknowledgment, give ourselves a few aggressive pats on the cheeks and go on to face the rest of the day. It’s an oddly comforting ritual.
So why is the school routine this hard for me?
As a perimenopausal mom with ADHD, managing my time after school drop-off feels nearly impossible. I want to dive into work the moment I get home — but instead, I spin in circles, lose my phone 25 times, drink two cups of coffee, and somehow it’s 11 a.m. By then, I have just a few hours to cram in both housework and business tasks before pickup at 2:30 p.m.
When that happens, whatever executive functioning I had left flies out the window. I freeze. I don’t know what to tackle first. And even though I can tidy with my kids around, I usually default to housework — because in the panic, it feels easier. I also feel guilty if my kids come home to a messy space. (Don’t worry, I’m rolling my eyes at myself too.)
The result? I end up working late into the night, running on fumes, with zero creative energy left. It’s a fast track to burnout — and I know I’m not alone in that.
Maybe that’s why I crave the holidays and winter break so much. Even with the added chaos disguised as cheer, something shifts. The pace softens. It’s not that the days are longer or easier — it’s that we’re allowed to move slower. To breathe. To settle into the cozy, the calm, the magic.
We linger in our jammies. We pile on the couch. We make crafts, eat too many cookies, and dance in the kitchen. Even when I’m pouring candles between Christmas movies, it feels different — less like a race, more like a rhythm we created together.
That’s the energy I’m carrying into this next season: soft and slow. A vibe that’s wildly underrated. I’ve spent years believing that hustle is the only way to survive — and thrive. That success means pushing, producing, proving. But as I age, and as I come to know myself more deeply, that definition is shifting.
My big brother passed away this September. And despite his challenges, I think he was successful. He raised two incredible humans. He kept a roof over their heads and food in the fridge. He was a loyal friend, a community builder. He traveled when he could, laughed often, loved deeply, and lived by his own rules. That’s success, isn’t it?
And yet, I hold myself to a different standard — one that often feels impossible. Why do we do that? Why do we choose standards that are so hard to meet? Who are we trying to prove something to?
I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this: the more time I spend with my kids, the more I see my success. The more I show up in my community, the more I feel it reflected back in the eyes and smiles of others. I’ve spent too long seeking validation from people and places that don’t serve me — instead of honoring the love I already carry in my heart.
With the holidays approaching, I’m choosing to focus on the moments that matter. The people who fill my cup. The softness I want to live in. I hope you get to feel that too.
Stay Wonderful friends.
Danniella