For the first year after having a baby, I tried so hard to find balance in my life. I was new at parenting, a veteran at disability, and [what felt like] tossed into a blender of the two. I was always asking myself the question:
My heart was loud: “You can eat later! Sleep when you’re dead! If you look away, you might miss something important!”
Then my head, thank God for it, was telling me, “Maybe do a pressure relief and take a potty break, girl. There’s a pack of crackers on the counter. Take a few sips of water.”
Now that my son is a toddler, my “balance” looks like: a daily cup of matcha after he goes for a nap, listening to the Bible while I brush my teeth at night, taking lots of neighborhood walks, and avoiding “kid music” – i.e., music featuring a child’s voice singing with rounded vowels and too much bounce. That I’m raising my son to love Billy Joel alongside me feels like a win.
Everyone’s balance is going to look different. For some, it’s journaling, going on a solo walk, intentional breathing, or a square of chocolate. In this stage of my life, my balance isn’t stillness – it’s moving, playing, and living loud with my son. Sure, I’ll “relax” while he sleeps by checking my email, taking a shower, and ditzing around on the Internet. But, in truth, those are just things to pass the time until he wakes up and we can play again.
I admit it: I’m utterly and joyfully obsessed. But that’s what being a mama is about, right?
It’s also what being an extrovert is like, so I get if that all just sounds exhausting. My personality lends itself to my balance coming from connection, from movement, and from being in the middle of action. My few and small rituals are where I reset and reinstall my peace for the day. Bonus points to matcha for keeping me UTI-free, and to the Bible for grounding me.
It’s worth noting: even though my everyday is packed with play and smiles, it’s important to find the balance within it, a place to rest. Loving your job of being a mama doesn’t cancel out the toll a busy day will take on your body – paralyzed or not – and laughter doesn’t mean your mind doesn’t need a moment to disconnect. You can love your life deeply and still need to pause, breathe, and let yourself be human for a minute. Balance isn’t a luxury; it’s what keeps the joy sustainable.