By Debbie
Let me tell you about the moment I knew something had to change. I was standing in my kitchen with a sink full of dishes, a laundry basket overflowing in the hallway, and a question hanging in the air: What’s for dinner? My body was begging for a rest. My mind was already making the to-do list longer.
If you’re a mom, I know you’ve been there. Rest sounds lovely, but the dishes don’t wash themselves, and the people we love still get hungry.
What I Was Taught About Rest
I grew up Jamaican, and I am proud of it. My culture gave me so much: strength, faith, flavor, a work ethic that doesn’t quit. But it also taught me something that took me years to question: a woman who takes a break from housework is lazy.
Nobody had to say it out loud. I watched it. The women around me were always moving, cooking, cleaning, washing, caring. Sitting down in the middle of the day, with work still waiting, just wasn’t done. Rest was something you earned after everything was finished, and everything was never finished.
So when I became a mom, and then a mom doing a lot of it on my own for a while, I carried that voice with me. Every time I sat down, it whispered, You should be doing something.
Here’s what I’ve learned: that voice came from love and from survival. The women who raised me were doing what they had to do. But I don’t have to keep carrying the guilt they were handed. Resting is not laziness. It’s how we keep going.
What Rest Actually Looks Like for Me
I wish I could tell you rest is a spa day and a quiet house. Most days, it looks a lot smaller than that. It’s ten minutes with a cup of tea while the dishes wait. It’s sitting down to journal a few things I’m grateful for before the day gets away from me. It’s a short pause, taken on purpose, with no apology attached.
And I’ve found that when the whole house still needs me, the trick isn’t doing less love. It’s being smarter about what I carry.
What I Simplify
- Dinner. Not every meal has to be impressive. Sheet-pan dinners, a big pot of something that makes leftovers, or breakfast for dinner all count. Friday takeout at home is a favorite because it’s easy and everyone gets to help.
- Laundry. I stopped folding everything the moment it comes out of the dryer. A basket of clean clothes is still clean clothes.
- Standards. This is the big one. A “good enough” house is still a home. Nobody is grading me but my own head.
What I Ask For Help With
Asking for help used to feel like admitting I was failing. Now I see it as teaching my family how a home really works: everybody belongs to it, so everybody helps run it.
- Kids (and spouses, if you have one) can load the dishwasher, fold their own clothes, set the table, or take out the trash. Even small helpers can do more than we think.
- A friend or family member can pick up a few groceries, take the kids for an hour, or just sit with me while I fold. Being around people makes the work lighter.
- Sometimes help means paying for it when I can, like a grocery pickup or one less errand. It’s not weakness. It’s stewardship of my time and my energy.
What Can Wait Until Tomorrow
This list might be the most freeing one:
- Wiping down every counter before bed
- Folding the whole mountain of laundry
- Mopping the floors, again
- Answering every message tonight
- Being everything to everyone before the sun goes down
The house will still be there tomorrow. So will the laundry, honestly. But I’ll be a better mom, a calmer woman, and a more present person if I’ve had a moment to breathe.
Permission Slip
If nobody has told you lately, let me say it plainly: you are allowed to rest even when the work isn’t done. Not because you’ve earned it by finishing the to-do list, but because you’re a person, not a machine.
Maybe you grew up hearing that rest is lazy, too. Maybe, like me, you’re learning to put that old message down gently, with gratitude for the women who carried it, and choose something kinder for yourself and for your children, who are watching how we treat ourselves.
So tonight, leave one thing undone. Make the tea. Sit down. The world will keep turning.
I’d love to hear from you: What’s one thing you’re letting wait until tomorrow? Share it in the comments. We can give each other permission.
With love,
Debbie
