There are stretches of time when Keith’s schedule is so demanding that most of the parenting weight naturally shifts onto me. These are the weeks when his projects swallow him whole, and suddenly I’m the one holding all the pieces—school drop-offs, after-school chaos, bedtime routines, and everything in between.
Now, let me be completely honest: we are not doing this alone. We have a nanny three times a week, and she is nothing short of a lifeline for us. I’m endlessly grateful for her presence in our lives. But even with that support, there are days when the juggle feels relentless. Balancing work deadlines, household responsibilities, and the needs of two little ones—it’s a constant game of trial and error, with no real roadmap. Some days it flows, other days it feels like survival mode.
Still, over time, I’ve learned that these solo-parenting stretches aren’t just about getting through the days. They’ve actually shaped the way I connect with my kids and have helped me find my own rhythm in parenthood.
Facing the Restaurant Challenge
Not long ago, I shared a photo of the kids and me at a neighborhood restaurant. It wasn’t a big, orchestrated outing—just the three of us grabbing a meal together. But when I posted it, the comments started rolling in. A few people messaged me saying things like, “Oh, I could never do that! Taking both kids to a restaurant by myself sounds so stressful.”
I get it. In the early days, the thought of managing a toddler and a baby in public by myself sounded overwhelming too. What if one melted down? What if both did? What if I couldn’t eat a single bite of food without chaos breaking out?
But like anything in parenting, repetition changes everything. The first few times were bumpy, yes. But slowly, with practice, what felt daunting became almost second nature. These days, taking them out to eat without Keith isn’t just manageable—it’s something I look forward to.
Why? Because it’s quality time. It’s a way to get out of the house, break up the monotony, and actually enjoy being together without me having to cook or clean up afterward. And, let’s be honest, two kids with full bellies means fewer tasks waiting for me back at home. That alone feels like a win.
Strengths in Parenting
That simple photo and the responses to it made me think about the way we, as parents, lean into our strengths. Every parent has their own approach, their own things they’re naturally good at, and their own places where they struggle.
For me, I’ve realized I’m the parent who can handle spontaneity. I don’t mind saying yes to last-minute playdates or impromptu meals out. I’m comfortable going with the flow, even if things aren’t perfectly planned. The flip side? Organization is not my strongest suit. Ask me to create a week-long, color-coded family schedule and I will instantly feel like a failure.
And that’s okay.
Because parenting isn’t about being perfect across the board. It’s about finding balance—both between partners and within ourselves. Keith brings his strengths, I bring mine, and together we cover more ground than either of us could alone. On the weeks when his workload is heavy, I lean more into my flexibility. When mine is intense, he’s there to catch the slack. And when we both fall short? That’s when the nanny, grandparents, or even a simple frozen pizza come to the rescue.
Trial, Error, and Perspective
The truth is, much of parenting feels like practice. You don’t really “master” anything—you just get better at responding to the curveballs. The first time you take both kids to a restaurant, or attempt bedtime solo, or manage a long day without your partner, it feels enormous. But each time after that, you learn little tricks. You discover what works for your family and what doesn’t.
I used to look at other parents and assume they had it figured out—that they possessed some magical calm I didn’t. But the more I talk to friends (and read messages from many of you), the more I realize that everyone feels the juggle. We’re all just choosing which battles to fight, which moments to embrace, and which parts to let slide.
For me, that restaurant photo was less about proving I could do it and more about sharing an honest slice of life: some days feel overwhelming, and some days I surprise myself with what I can handle. Both truths can exist at once.
Redefining “Winning”
At the end of the day, I don’t measure success as a parent by whether everything goes smoothly. More often than not, it doesn’t. My definition of “winning” has shifted. Winning is when we share a meal together—even if there’s a spill. Winning is when I manage bedtime solo, and both kids are asleep (eventually). Winning is when I choose connection over perfection, and the kids feel seen, even if the house looks like chaos.
So yes, the juggle is real, and yes, sometimes it feels like too much. But the flip side is that these moments also show us what we’re capable of, and how adaptable our kids can be too.
And maybe that’s the real lesson: parenting isn’t about avoiding the hard stuff. It’s about finding the small joys tucked inside of it, whether that’s laughter at a restaurant table or the relief of knowing dinner is already taken care of.
