The invisible weight

Even when the house is quiet, the mental ticker tape runs on:

• We’re out of milk. I need to get more before breakfast tomorrow.

• I should book that dentist appointment.

• Did I remember to sign the school permission slip?

• What if he’s falling behind socially? Should I organize more playdates?

• I need to get a present for so-and-so's party

It’s a list that never truly ends — and the hardest part is, there’s no one to hand it off to. The “village” people talk about sometimes feels like a distant myth when you’re juggling parenting and survival on your own.

Four-year-olds are brilliant and exhausting in equal measure. Mine can go from telling me I’m his best friend to screaming that he doesn't like me because I told him not to climb on the back of the sofa for the 100th time that day. They’re also testing independence, pushing limits, and needing reassurance — often all at once.
You become the emotional anchor, constantly regulating both their emotions and your own.
You comfort after meltdowns, explain boundaries gently (for the fifth time that morning), and find yourself negotiating over which socks are “too scratchy.”

Even joyful moments, painting together, giggling under a blanket fort, can sometimes carry a quiet undertone of responsibility. Because you’re not just in the moment; you’re also thinking ahead to cleanup, bathtime, tomorrow’s packed lunch. And there’s no one to tag in when your tank runs empty. No partner walking through the door at 6 p.m. to say, “You sit down, I’ve got it.”

Solo parenting can be isolating in ways that are hard to articulate. There’s no one to debrief with after a hard day, no one to share the small wins (“He finally ate something green!”). The silence after bedtime can feel like relief and ache all at once.

But it’s not just missing adult conversation, though that’s part of it. It’s the 'not being seen'. No one else notices the small things: how I pre-pack his backpack the night before, or how I remember to wash his favorite t-shirt so he can wear it again tomorrow.

No one claps for you when you manage to get through a long day without losing your temper. You just exhale, clear the table, and keep going.. alone again.

The truth is, there’s no perfect balance. Some days you’ll feel capable and grounded; other days you’ll eat dinner standing up while your child eats plain pasta and cheese for the 3rd time that week.
But there are ways to make the load lighter:

• Accept the imperfection. The dishes can wait; your sanity can’t.

• Ask for help (and accept it!) Even if it’s just a neighbor watching your child for an hour, or a friend listening over voice notes (I love a good voice note rant!)

• Find small rituals of rest. A quiet cup of tea after bedtime, step outside, a song that makes you breathe a little deeper or dance around the kitchen.

• Celebrate what you’re doing. Because keeping a small human alive, loved, and learning - every single day! Is awesome work.