When Nothing Gets Done but Love
The undone chores, the missed deadlines, the tears — and the sacred choice to stay close anyway.
Everything Can Wait, But She Is Little Once 💛
I just wanted to change the sheets.
That was the only thing on my to-do list that morning — one simple task.
My daughter was supposed to play with her dad for ten minutes. Just enough time for me to slip upstairs and get it done.
But as soon as I reached the stairs and she realized I was leaving the room, she broke down completely. Crying, clinging to my legs, pulling at my dress, begging me to stay.
And even though it caught me off guard, this wasn’t the first time that week.
Something was going on with her. I could feel it.
At the same week, I was racing against a deadline to submit my thesis (you can read about feeding special babies here) — She wouldn’t nap.
I tried to clean the bathroom, hoping her favorite cartoon would keep her attention for just twenty minutes — but it didn’t.
I just wanted to grab my charger — but she refused to be put down.
❌ The sheets didn’t get changed.
❌ The bathroom stayed a mess.
❌ The thesis submission was delayed.
And the list of unfinished things kept growing.
Motherhood teaches us to re-plan, re-organize, re-prioritize — again and again — constantly putting our own needs behind someone else's.
But in that moment, when I just wanted to get one single thing done, and I couldn’t, my frustration built quietly, until I snapped.
I raised my voice.
I lost my patience with the tiny person I love the most.
This post isn’t about how to stay calm in moments like that (though you can read a wonderful article from
about that here).This is about what comes after.
When the yelling is over...
When the guilt sets in...
When the tasks are still undone and your heart feels heavy...
What then?
What I’ve learned—slowly, painfully, lovingly—is this:
When I stop fighting for control and choose connection instead, everything begins to shift.
When I let go of what I thought needed to be done, and turned toward her—looked into her eyes, truly engaged with her, fully present and not just pretending while still thinking about the laundry—something softened.
Her anxiety eased.
My guilt melted.
My heart opened.
That morning, we ended up building with blocks, making animal noises, and laughing.
I truly enjoyed it.
Because when I let myself be there, I remembered how beautiful it is to be close to her.
She didn’t need anything more than me.
And once she felt safe and full of love again, she played on her own, stayed happily with Daddy, and gave me the space I’d needed all along.
🛏️ (As for sleep? That’s a whole different article.)
There are seasons when your energy is urgently needed elsewhere. A home project. A deadline. A personal goal.
But when you're a stay-at-home mom, and your kids are with you 24/7, chances are...
➡️ You won’t have the time.
➡️ You won’t have the energy.
➡️ They will need you — often, deeply, and relentlessly.
And that can feel overwhelming.
You begin to doubt yourself.
You question your routines, your support system, even your partner’s parenting if the kids seem to only want you.
But let me tell you something that helped me.
The other day, I felt off.
I wasn’t tired, hungry, or cold. I had even slept well.
But I was moody, cranky — I couldn’t explain it.
We were sitting on the porch watching our daughter kick a ball when I leaned into my husband for a hug. And in that simple moment, everything shifted.
The heaviness lifted.
The world softened.
I softened.
I’m 33 years old and still learning how to understand my emotions.
And even now — I need love, touch, connection.
Not because I’m not strong or independent.
But because I’m human.
Now imagine a two- or three-year-old child.
A little one with a brain still developing.
A heart still learning what to do with all these big feelings.
Sometimes, what they need most...
💛 is a hug,
🕰️ an hour,
📅 a day,
🌙 a whole week of staying close to mommy.
Even when that mommy has a million other things waiting for her.
Yes, it’s exhausting to reorganize your day — again and again.
But when I choose to release the pressure and embrace the moment with my daughter, I become the kind of mother I want to be.
And most importantly — I protect my joy.
Instead of planting seeds of resentment, I plant presence and peace.
Because truly…
Everything can wait.
But she will only be little once.
💭 Final Thought
If you’ve ever been there — torn between what needs to be done and a child who just needs you — please know: I see you.
Not every day can be full of softness. Not every moment will feel magical. But if today, even for just a heartbeat, you chose connection over control…
🌿 Let that be enough.
You’re doing better than you think.
And to your child, you are still the entire universe.
Sending love,
Dora
This spoke to me so much, I can’t even say! And I also loved how you weaved in other posts of yours and other’s posts, that was masterful! You got a new subscriber here!
This was such a beautiful read. Honestly, it means a lot that my words landed with you and wove into your own reflections. You captured the heart of it perfectly. Sometimes love is the only thing that actually gets done, and that’s enough.