Zeta & Co

The hardest part of motherhood isn't always the tantrums.
It's carrying the story that you're failing.

I can't tell you how many incredible mothers I've met who constantly rip themselves a new one and think:
"I yell too much."
"I'm ruining my kids."
"They deserve a better mom."

Meanwhile, these same women are reading books, listening to podcasts, apologizing after hard moments, questioning themselves, and desperately trying to do better.

Do you know what that tells me?

Not that they're failing.

It tells me they care deeply.

Awareness can feel heavy because once you see something, you can't unsee it. You start noticing every reaction, every missed opportunity, every moment you wish you could erase and start fresh.

But awareness is also where change begins.
The goal was never to become a perfect mother.
The goal is to become a safe enough one.

One who repairs.
One who grows.
One who teaches her children that love isn't found in perfection. It's found in connection, accountability, and coming back together after things fall apart.

If this is you today(it's certainly me), I hope you know this.

Your willingness to keep showing up matters more than your worst moment.

If you've ever felt this way, you're in good company. Tell me, what's been the hardest part of motherhood for you lately?

The comparison trap is loud this time of year.

You'll see the moms with colour-coded bucket lists. The endless adventures. The homemade popsicles. The smiles that seem effortless.

And before you know it, you're wondering why you're already feeling stretched before summer has even really begun.

Here's what I want you to know.

You can love your children deeply and still feel overwhelmed by having them home all day.
You can be grateful and exhausted. Excited and anxious. Present one moment and completely touched out the next.

Those things can exist together.

The goal isn't to become the mom who never feels overwhelmed.

The goal is to understand what's underneath the overwhelm so it stops running the show.

Because when we stop judging ourselves, we create room for curiosity. We notice our nervous system. We notice our capacity. We notice what we actually need instead of pushing through until we explode.

If this summer already feels heavy, don't spend it wishing you were someone else.

Spend it learning yourself.
That's where change begins.
♡
I'd love to know...
What are you looking forward to most this summer? And what part feels the heaviest?

Happy Father's Day to the cycle breakers.

To the men who understand that fatherhood is about more than providing a paycheck.

To the dads who carry part of the mental load without being asked. Who notice what needs doing. Who learn, grow, apologize, and try again.

To the men who model both strength and gentleness. Who teach their children that caregiving is not a mother's job. It's a parent's responsibility.

To the fathers who are choosing a different path than the one they were shown.

Who are healing while parenting.

Who are breaking patterns so their children don't have to.

Your work may not always be seen, but it matters.

The way you love, lead, nurture, protect, and connect is shaping the next generation.

Today, we celebrate you.

You are not failing because parenting feels hard.

I think so many mothers walk around carrying the weight of believing they should be doing better. I know because I did. (The days I'm not feeling grounded, I still do.)

We know the strategies.
We've read the books.
We've listened to the podcasts.

We know how we want to respond.
And yet, the snap, the impatient tone that we just cannot for the life of us turn off, the words that we've said that we wish we could stuff back inside.

Days when we wonder why this feels so much harder than it seems for everyone else.

But what if the problem isn't that you don't know enough?

What if you're simply carrying too much while having expectations set for yourself that could reach the moon?

The mental load.
The appointments.
The laundry.
The constant decision making.
The healing.
The grief.
The pressure to break cycles while trying to survive the demands of everyday life.
The state of the world today.

Most parents aren't struggling because they don't care.

They're struggling because they care deeply while constantly striving for better and also carrying the entire world on their shoulders.

If that's where you are today, I want you to hear this:

Your hard moments do not define you.

Your mistakes do not erase the love you have for your children.

AND your child's future is not determined by a difficult day.

Parenting was never meant to be done perfectly.

It's about returning.
Repairing.
Reconnecting.
Again and again and again.
That is where trust is built.
That is where healing happens.
And that is more than enough.

This picture is an actual page from one of my journals when I was in the depths as well. I get it.

Somedays, survival is all you have and it can be still be enough. 🩷

It's time to return to trusting yourself.

Motherhood feels impossibly heavy sometimes.

The invisible load.
The endless laundry.
The junk that just appears around every corner, all the time. (Where does it come from? 🤯😵‍💫)
The appointments.
The quiet knowing that you're here to do more than barely make it to bedtime in one piece everyday.

Right now, I’m trying to navigate finding "extra" childcare while also trying to be the kind of regulated, present, connected parent my children deserve. I want to get some of my buttload of tasks caught up and start taking new clients again. Regularly scheduling appointments for everyone without it feeling like too much out of my cup to complete it all. And to just have some moments to breath that are for me and me alone.
Because honestly? The mental load of everything, completely consumes me sometimes.

And even with all that - there's a voice that keeps telling me I shouldn't need the extra help, I should be able to figure it out. I used to listen to that voice a lot. It didn't help me. So she gets a kind, thanks for your input but get your ass to the back of the bus now.

Because I've learned that when anxiety and to do lists are constantly sitting in the background, it quietly controls so much more than we realize.

It impacts our patience.
Our capacity.
Our sleep.
Our ability to think clearly.
Our ability to rest.
Even our ability to fully enjoy the moments we want to be present for.
And I think so many mothers are silently living here.

Trying to hold it all together while carrying fears about finances, schedules, childcare, healing, court dates, work, exhaustion, and the invisible labor no one sees.

Children do not need perfect mothers.
But mothers were never meant to raise children without support.

Sometimes the strongest thing a mother can do is acknowledge:
“I need help too.”

So if you’re in a similar season and your capacity feels thin — I see you. And I hope you know you are not failing. You are carrying a lot. 🤍

So repeat after me: I need help too.

*This message is as much me talking to myself as talking to you*

Dear Tender & Tired Mother,

I know motherhood feels especially raw lately.

I know you love these children with every part of your being.
So deeply that sometimes it aches in places you can’t even explain.

I know you look around at the world and wonder why it still feels so hard.

Why people can still be so cruel. So judgmental. So disconnected from one another.

I know part of you thought adults would be softer by now.
Safer by now.
Kinder by now.

And yet here you are… trying to raise emotionally safe children in a world that often still rewards emotional disconnection.

It's exhausting.

I know there are days where you are carrying the weight of the world while still making meals, answering questions, cleaning messes, regulating emotions, and trying not to lose yourself in the process.

I know there are moments you wonder if what you’re doing is enough.

But look at you.

You are questioning patterns you were taught to normalize.
You apologize when needed.
You are learning.
You are protecting your children’s softness even when nobody protected yours.

That matters more than you realize.

You do not have to mother perfectly to change things for your children.
You just have to keep willingly showing up.

And despite how heavy things feel lately, you are.
Even tired.
Even overwhelmed.
Even heartbroken by the state of the world sometimes.

You are still choosing love.

And maybe that is how the world becomes better after all.

Happy Mother's Day. 🌹

May you give yourself grace today. May you FEEL the joy that you brought into this world. May you find peace today in your chapter of motherhood.

Love,
A mother trying too

You can be a safe parent… and still say no.

I think a lot of parents are quietly struggling with this.

They want connection.
They want their child to feel safe, heard, and understood. Certainly more than they ever were.

But somewhere along the way, that got translated into:
“Don’t upset them.”
“Don’t hold the boundary if they’re having a hard time.”

And that’s not it.

Your child feeling upset doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong.

It means they’re having a human reaction. (One's that many of us weren't allowed to have. Are you allowing yourself now? 😉)

Safety isn’t built by removing every hard feeling.
It’s built when your child has those feelings… and you stay.

Calm.
Clear.
Steady.

You can say no.
You can hold the limit.
You can follow through.

And still be deeply connected to your child.
In fact, that’s where the safety is.

Not in always getting their way.
But in knowing that you can handle whatever comes up, without shutting them down or losing yourself in it.

Children need parents to be the leaders of our homes so they can rest in that safety.

This is the work.

Letting your child feel, while you stay grounded enough to lead.

That’s what creates real trust. 🤍

They are not the same. The difference matters.

Permissive parenting avoids.
It avoids boundaries.
It avoids conflict.
It avoids the discomfort of holding the line when your child is upset.

Gentle parenting does not avoid.
It asks more of you.
It requires you to stay steady when your child is melting down.
To hold a boundary and mean it.
To allow emotions without letting them run the show.

That’s not “soft.” That’s leadership.

Let’s be clear, removing boundaries isn’t connection.
And controlling children isn’t connection either.

Children need both safety and structure.

They need adults who can handle their emotions without shutting them down… and still guide them with clarity.

That takes work. Real work.

Because most of us were never taught how to do that.

So we either repeat control… or swing to permissiveness and call it gentle.

But our kids deserve better than both of those options.

They deserve adults who are willing to do the uncomfortable work of showing up with clear boundaries and deep compassion.

And if we’re honest,
we should gift ourselves that too. 🤍