When Motherhood Is Too Much: Why "I Hate It Here" Crosses My Mind and Other Honest Mom Confessions

There are days in motherhood that feel like you’re running an obstacle course blindfolded, arms loaded with bags, and kids clinging to your legs. Some days, I feel like I’m simply surviving, and it’s hard to find the words for it. This is a story of that relentless phase, where I’m pulled in every direction and barely able to catch my breath.

I’m in this weird stage of life where my parents don’t quite need me to take care of them yet, but the planning and preparation are starting to creep in. I’m not exactly in my "youthful" years anymore, but I’m still young enough to keep up with what’s cool with my kids—at least for now. I’ve got one kid in daycare, two in elementary school, and another in middle school, which means three different drop-offs, three different pick-ups, and three separate orbits of need that all revolve around me. On top of this, I’m working full-time, managing all the responsibilities that come with that, and trying to squeeze in side hustles that I genuinely love—but let’s be real, they just add more weight to an already overloaded plate.

I try to remind myself on these stressful days to pause and really feel these moments, to be raw and real with myself. I can admit to myself…okay this may be too much. So many people see only the highlights of my persons life, where I’m smiling, handling stress like a pro, ticking off my to-do list with ease. But that’s just the surface. Underneath, there are days where I look around at my workload, my children, my partner, my endless lists, and all I want to do is scream, “I hate it here.”

I miss the simplicity of those early days, when my kids were babies and the world revolved around predictable routines. Friday nights used to signal the end of a workweek, with time to unwind on the couch or see a movie. Now, Friday means gearing up for games, practices, and events, ensuring everyone gets to where they need to be. It used to be that I was “needed” for feedings and bedtimes, but those were predictable moments; now, I’m juggling everyone's social calendars and activities, which, frankly, often feel like moving mountains.

There are days when, in the middle of reading with my child, rubbing their back until they fall asleep, I drift off too, waking up on the floor at 2 a.m. with Disney lullabies playing softly in the background. The exhaustion isn’t just physical; it’s a mental weariness, a tiredness in my bones. It’s knowing I’m needed in a hundred different ways and not always sure if I have enough to give.

Don’t even get me started on the endless daily and weekly tasks it takes to keep the house running. It’s funny how meal planning was supposed to make life easier, but somehow it’s become one more thing to juggle. I want my kids to eat well, to have home-cooked meals, to know there’s something nutritious waiting at the end of their long day. But making that happen means I’m usually up at odd hours, chopping vegetables, marinating chicken, prepping snacks—doing everything I can to make sure they’re not just living on Nutella sandwiches. I wish I could give my own meals the same care, but let’s be honest: if I ate lunch it was rubbish - I finally had to give in and get a meal service (shout out to Valley Prep!) There's just no time to be thoughtful about my own plate when I’m already juggling everyone else's.

Then there’s working out, which I genuinely want to prioritize. I want to feel strong, good in my own skin, and have at least a part of the day that’s just mine. But with the kids’ schedules and everything else, my workouts end up at the oddest hours—early morning before anyone else is awake or late at night when I’m already half-asleep. Or, even better, I end up working out with the kids all around me, lifting weights alongside me. I count it as extra quality time, because at least they’re seeing what it looks like to prioritize strength and self-care.

There’s this unspoken pressure to be everything—the supportive best friend, the organized mom, the fit and healthy woman, the sexy, attentive wife. And I’ll say it: I’m just plain tired. If you need permission to say, “I can’t do it all”—girl, here it is. You can’t do it all at the same time, and that’s okay.

And do not get me started on trying to maintain a healthy and happy marriage. My mom warned me about this back when I was 23. She jokingly asked, “Are you sure you want to marry this idiot?” She didn’t mean it… well…not really, but I can still hear her voice on those days when I feel like I’m carrying everything solo. And sometimes, in those moments, I do wonder if she was onto something.

She also told me something I didn’t fully understand at the time but that now resonates so deeply: “One day, you’ll look at your husband and ask yourself this question. So make sure you’re picking the right person, because children and life are a real eye-opener to marriage.” Now that I’m in the thick of it, I get it. Kids, schedules, and the endless demands of life test every ounce of patience and partnership. Some days, I look at him, exhausted and frustrated, and wonder if either of us truly knew what we were signing up for. Building a life together when it was just the two of us was one thing; keeping that life strong through the chaos of kids, work, and constant responsibilities? It’s a whole different story. My mom was right—marriage isn’t a fairy tale. It reveals parts of you and your partner you didn’t even know existed.

I love my husband dearly, and he really is amazing in so many ways. He’s fully involved with the kids, supports my side hustles, helps keep the house running, and remembers all the sports pick-ups and drop-offs. Honestly, he does a lot, and I’m genuinely grateful. He truly feels like an equal partner now—but it took years, y’all. It took time, communication, and a whole lot of adjusting. He didn’t get it at first—not because he didn’t want to, but because his brain just wasn’t wired to see all the invisible things. And now? He’s so freaking awesome. There are days I look at him and feel so lucky I married this man—especially when I hear some of the horror stories from other women. But at the same time, he drives me absolutely crazy! Sometimes I feel like if he asks me to make one more list for the grocery store, I just might lose it. It’s funny how he can be so supportive, in top of it and still, those tiny requests can be the ones that push me over the edge. This is probably why we vacation so much! Every time we leave the house without the kids or go on a trip, I’m like, “Hey, I actually like you!” It’s funny how much easier it is to remember not only how much you love your partner but genuinely enjoy their company—when you’re not constantly thinking about who’s making the next meal or when the kids’ next practice is. It’s like, “Oh, right, this is why we got married!”

So yes, it’s this paradox—feeling like I’d be lost without him, and simultaneously wanting to strangle him. Because even when someone’s amazing, the daily grind of managing everything together can test anyone’s patience. It’s just part of sharing a life with someone while juggling kids, work, and all the endless tasks that come with it.

And as much as I want to see my friends, they’re in the same boat—barely keeping their heads above water, too busy to breathe, let alone get together. We’re all running on fumes, navigating our own whirlwinds of family, work, and sanity. I know this phase will pass, but some days, it’s tough to remember that there’s an “after” to this madness.

People often say, “You’ll miss this time.” And maybe they’re right. But I don’t know if I’ll ever truly miss this particular stretch. I’m deeply present in the chaos, doing everything I can to be there for my kids, showing up at school events, lending a hand whenever possible. I give 100% of myself to what I can give, and I have no guilt over what I may miss here and there. But it’s also a season where I find myself, more often than I’d like to admit, looking up at the sky and whispering, “I hate it here.”

It’s funny how, as we get older, the exhaustion changes. The demand of having a baby, getting up in the night, and being physically exhausted feels so different in my memory now that I have the mental, physical, and emotional joys of being worn out by tweens and soon-to-be teens. Every phase of motherhood brings its own brand of weariness, and you keep reminding yourself it’s only just a phase, that it will pass. But if you’re not careful, you’ll realize all the phases of motherhood, those brief windows where you have some sense of control over your children, will all pass.

I love being a mother, and I fully understand it’s not a path everyone wants—or should—choose. I’ve had people tell me they look at my life and think, “No thanks,” and honestly, I get it. If I were on the outside looking in, I might feel the same way. But just because someone else doesn’t see the joy in what you're doing doesn’t mean that joy isn’t there. There are parts of this life that bring me deep happiness. At the same time, we’d be lying if we didn’t acknowledge the hard parts for exactly what they are—exhausting, overwhelming, and not always picture-perfect. Both things can be true. This is just a part of the journey, I know. But it’s okay to admit that sometimes, I’d give anything to press pause, to take a breath, and to just exist—without being needed for anything, even for a little while. I know tomorrow, I’ll feel differently. But today, this is where I am, and that’s enough.