Goodbye 2025, Hello 2026: Motherhood Edition

In 2026, this is the image that will anchor me - My family. My why!

So 2025 has been and gone and let's be totally honest, for Parents 'in the trenches', it's the same shit you're wiping, just in a differnt year - not much is really going to change in your day-to-day activities from December 31st to January 1st.

New Year, New Me energy is everywhere, but let's be real mums don’t need another list of things to “fix” about ourselves or more things to add to the mental load. We need a reset. A fresh start that doesn’t involve fixing ourselves — just dropping what’s heavy and keeping what helps.

So here it is: Motherhood Edition — what we’re leaving in 2025 and what we’re bringing into 2026.

Because honestly? I’m not dragging the mental load into another year. It’s heavy. My back hurts.

---

Things We’re Leaving in 2025

1. Saying yes to everyone at the cost of our sanity, peace, and family unit

A packed calendar doesn’t always equal a good life. Automatically saying yes to the events that pop up, doesn’t make us “good mums”. When filling up the calendar and saying yes to an event, we're not just going to the event itself, we're committing to it all.

The running around prior to find a gift (most likely between naps and with the kids in tow), the getting ready (and not just yourself, but the kids as well), the trip in the car, the management to get there on time and if you make it to the event with the checklist ticked off, you then have to be social when you're already depleted. All of this requires energy when we really don't have that much of it to share around. So what do you get from saying yes? Because I sure as shit didn't sign up for burnout over a birthday party, and having to recover from my own weekends.

And let's be real, the cost is always the same: less patience, less partner time, routine chaos, resentment, no downtime. Depleted mums become overstimulated mums: snappy, anxious, exhausted, shutdown.

Leaving this behind in 2025 is choosing a life that doesn’t require constant recovery. It's choosing capacity over appearances. Because your kids don’t need you at every party — they need you okay at home.

2. Catch-ups with extended family or 'those' friends who don’t show up the rest of the year.

Why do we force closeness on special occasions when there’s zero effort the rest of the year?

That pressure turns those milestones and occasions into obligation and resentment. Leaving this behind in 2025 means choosing relationships based on consistent care, not once-a-year performances.

The same goes with 'those' friends. Some friendships don’t end, they just stop fitting. And as mums, time is too limited to spend it feeling drained, misunderstood, or like you have to edit yourself mid conversation.

Leaving this behind in 2025 is permission to choose connection that actually supports you, your family and the life that you've chosen for yourself.

3. Letting people bulldoze our parenting boundaries to avoid conflict.

Chocolate at Baba’s, screen time rules ignored at Nonna's, routines dismissed and kids passed back to you a mix of tired and wired but definitely overstimulated.

We know what's best for our kids. We know the outcomes and we know what we will have to deal with when we get back home. But the reality of it is, is that It’s rarely “just that one thing.”

The message you receive is the same: your boundaries are negotiable and your 'no' doesn’t matter. And over time, that chips away at your confidence and authority as a parent.

Leaving this behind in 2025 isn’t about controlling other people — it’s about backing yourself without the guilt hangover. A boundary isn’t a debate. It’s protection.

4. Guilt. (All of it.)

Screen time guilt. Messy house guilt. Working guilt. Not-present-enough guilt. The constant background hum of “I should be doing more” even when you’re already doing everything.

Guilt is sneaky because it disguises itself as being a good mum — like if you feel bad, it must mean you care. But guilt doesn’t make us better. It just makes us tired, reactive, and stuck in a loop of never feeling like we’ve done enough. It turns normal motherhood realities (screens, mess, divided attention, earning dynamics) into personal failures.

Leaving guilt behind in 2025 doesn’t mean we stop caring. It means we stop punishing ourselves for being human in a demanding season — parenting a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old, trying to feed them something other than bread and sugar, keeping routines alive, and building a life at the same time.

5. The mental load spiral and the pressure to “do it all”

It’s not one task — it’s all of them, all at once.

Clean the house or build something meaningful? Playground or toy rotation? Declutter or Marketplace? School admin or routines? And then you open Instagram and see a mum who’s stylish, productive, social, making money, cooking from scratch, and somehow also “present”… and suddenly you feel behind before you’ve even had a sip of coffee.

Cue the lack of breath, followed by a lie down that gives you no energy or mental clarity... but instead gives you a nice little shame spiral.

Leaving this behind in 2025 is admitting the truth: the load is too big to carry in one brain, and comparison doesn’t motivate — it multiplies the pressure.

In 2026, we’re taking the inspiration without the self-doubt. Your real life is not failing because it doesn’t look like curated content. You’re not failing — you’re overloaded.

6. Quiet resentment at home

When division of labour isn’t clear, mums become the default manager of everything — and resentment builds quietly, because you’re tired, you’re carrying too much, and you don’t even have the energy to explain why you’re upset.

It gets worse when your partner has hobbies, time, freedom… and you’re stuck at home feeling like your entire identity is “mum + logistics coordinator.”

Leaving this behind in 2025 means having the conversations before resentment moves in permanently: what’s sustainable, what needs to be shared, and what support actually looks like.

It also means deciding that you get outlets too — hobbies, time, space, and a life that belongs to you. Not as a reward. As a baseline.

So with that in mind let's collectively shed that snake skin off (bye year of the snake), wipe the slate clean and move into what's actually going to serve us in 2026.

---

Things we’re bringing into 2026

1. JOMO — the Joy of Missing Out.

Screw the FOMO. In 2026, FOMO is rebranding to JOMO — the joy of missing out.

You know that feeling when you cancel something and suddenly you’re… calm? Like your nervous system exhales and you think, “Wait… is this what peace feels like?”

Staying home is not “missing out” — it’s recovery, regulation, and peace. We’re choosing rest without a speech and trusting that calm is a valid plan. In 2026, we’re making space in the calendar like it’s a non-negotiable — because it is. No more stuffing weekends with plans and then spending the following week recovering like you’ve been hit by a bus made of small talk and party bags.

This year, we’re pausing before we say yes. We’re asking: Do we have the energy? Do we actually want to? What will this cost us later?

And we’re choosing fewer commitments with more intention. Because having an empty weekend isn’t “wasting time” — it’s creating the kind of home life where everyone feels calmer, more regulated, and less like they’re being dragged from thing to thing.

2. Boundaries that protect your peace, sanity, and family unit.

Boundaries aren’t rude — they’re a filter. They keep out the things that drain you so you can actually show up for the things that matter. Because when everything is available to everyone, you become the thing that gets used up.

In 2026, boundaries aren’t a dramatic announcement or a 10-minute explanation. They’re simple. Calm. Repeated. And they’re backed.

Whether it’s saying no to another event, enforcing your screen time rules, or not forcing “special occasion closeness” with people who don’t show up the rest of the year — you get to protect your family rhythm. You get to protect your nervous system. You get to protect your weekends.

And if someone doesn’t like it? That discomfort is theirs to hold, not yours to carry.

4. A system for the mental load (so it stops living in your head).

The mental load doesn’t disappear just because it’s a new year. The difference in 2026 is that we’re not letting it rot in our brains like 400 tabs open at once. We’re getting it out of our heads and onto something that can actually hold it.

In 2026, we’re bringing structure — not perfection. A master list, a weekly focus, a few repeatable routines that reduce decision fatigue.

Because the real issue isn’t that you’re unmotivated… it’s that you’re constantly trying to manage everything mentally. And that’s why you’re exhausted before you even start.

This year: less mental clutter, more clarity, more momentum.

5. A healthier relationship with social media: take the good, leave the rest.

Social media can be inspiring… until it isn’t.

Sometimes it sparks drive. Other times it triggers that gross “why can’t I do that?” feeling that makes you try to do everything at once and then crash. In 2026, we’re not letting the internet hijack our self-worth.

This year is about less scrolling and spiralling, more intentional use. More creating. More “that’s inspiring” without turning it into “I’m behind.” More muting, unfollowing, and choosing content that motivates without making you feel like crap. And sometimes? Logging off because your nervous system doesn’t need more input — it needs peace.

6. Real partnership at home (communication + shared ownership, not just “help”).

In 2026, we’re not doing the thing where we hold it all in, get resentful, and then explode over something tiny like dishes or bedtime. We’re doing the conversations earlier — before resentment becomes the default setting.

This year is about clearer communication and clearer division of labour — not “can you help me?” but shared ownership. Because you’re not the household manager who delegates tasks.

You’re a partner. And you deserve weekends that aren’t just admin and survival mode. The goal isn’t a perfect system — it’s a home where the load isn’t carried by one person’s brain.

7. A life outside the home (because you deserve one).

If your partner has hobbies, outlets, and freedom — and you don’t — resentment makes perfect sense. Not because you don’t love your family, but because you’re a whole person who needs something that isn’t “mum + logistics coordinator.”

In 2026, you get outlets too. Time that’s yours. Space that’s yours. Something that fills you up instead of draining you. Not as a reward for coping. Not as a luxury. As a baseline.

Because the strongest families aren’t built on one person shrinking themselves to keep everything running — they’re built on everyone having a life worth living.

---

A final wrap-up: looking forward into 2026

So here’s the plan for 2026: we’re not trying to become “new mums.” We’re just becoming less depleted ones.

We’re leaving behind the guilt, the overcommitting, the forced catch-ups, the comparison spirals, and the quiet resentment that builds when we’re carrying too much for too long. And we’re bringing in what actually supports us: calmer calendars, clearer boundaries, shared responsibility at home, and a life that includes us too — not just everyone else.

Because motherhood isn’t going to magically get easier on January 1st.

The kids will still tantrum, someone will still demand snacks (and reject the ones you offer), and your house will still look like small people live in it. But you can make it feel lighter by choosing what stays and what goes.

Here’s to 2026 — the year of doing less for appearances and more for peace. The year we stop proving and start protecting. The year we build a life that actually fits the season we’re in.

💙💚

Mama Interrupted.