Where Is the Finish Line, Y’all?
It is currently 4:30 in the blessed morning … and I have not slept. Not one wink.
My brain is running a marathon while my body is begging for a folding chair and a sweet tea.
And all I can think is:
Why do I always feel like I’m running a race… and somehow always behind?
Where is the finish line?
Is there a ribbon I’m supposed to break through?
Is there a medal ceremony I missed?
Because if there is, nobody sent me the memo.
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A couple of years ago, I came across a post that has stuck with me so deeply that the fact I still remember it proves it hit something in my soul.
A woman said she was sitting in a store parking lot watching another woman come out with two young kids. She assumed the woman was their grandmother — not because of gray hair, but because of the interaction.
She described how the woman calmly pushed the buggy to the van. Opened the back. Sat both kids inside and handed them a snack. The kids talked and munched happily while she unloaded groceries. She chatted with them. No rush. No urgency. No Olympic-level speed unloading.
Then — and here’s the part that gets me — they all walked together to return the buggy. Came back. The kids finished their snack. She wiped their little hands and faces. Then they loaded up and drove off.
The post said something along the lines of, “A mama would not have been that chill.”
And I felt that in my BONES, honey.
Because a mama?
A mama is unloading groceries like she’s in a timed competition.
A mama is mentally reviewing the next three stops before she even closes the trunk.
And that mama is me.
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Errands are not errands in my world. They’re strategic missions.
If I’m headed to Publix, I’m thinking:
“Well, I could swing by Target real quick.”
“I’ll just grab that cheese while I’m here.”
“I can totally squeeze in one more stop before carpool.”
Why?
Will the world collapse if we don’t have that specific shredded cheese today?
Will civilization crumble if I move the laundry to the dryer after carpool instead of before?
Yet there I am — setting THREE alarms to leave for carpool because I just know I have time to sweep the kitchen or start another load.
And don’t even get me started on the stairs.
If I’m following the girls downstairs, and they decide they must scoot down on their hiney or crawl backwards like tiny raccoons… I can feel my blood pressure rising.
In my head I’m thinking, “WHY are we moving like molasses?!”
But here’s the kicker:
We are not late.
We have time.
That extra 60 seconds changes absolutely nothing.
Except my stress level.
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If I wasn’t constantly trying to check off the next thing…
If I wasn’t wound tighter than my messy bun…
Would I be less stressed? Would I actually sleep at night instead of staring at the ceiling at 4:30am writing a blog about slowing down?
The irony is not lost on me, y’all.
Nugget is snoring peacefully at my feet right now. Not a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m mentally reorganizing tomorrow before it even starts.
There is no finish line.
No gold medal for “Most Efficient Mama.”
No trophy for “Squeezed In One More Stop Before Carpool.”
The list will never be done … EVER.
The laundry will regenerate like it’s part of a science experiment.
The dishes will multiply.
The emails will still be there.
But if everyone is clothed, fed, and safe? Everything else can wait a minute. Or thirty.
Your mental health matters more than the cheese.
Your blood pressure matters more than the buggy return speed.
Your presence matters more than productivity.
And here’s the truth I’m still learning — slowly, stubbornly:
Maybe the secret isn’t finding the finish line.
Maybe it’s realizing there isn’t one.
Maybe it’s letting something wait.
Letting the kids scoot down the stairs.
Letting the buggy return be a family stroll instead of a NASCAR pit stop.
It’s a daily battle. Most days I don’t win.
But I’m trying.
And if you’re reading this feeling like you’re running too — behind, breathless, wondering what you forgot — just know you’re not alone, sugar.
Hang in there, Mamas.
We may not be winning the race … but maybe we don’t actually have to run it.
#PlanItMom #PlanItMomUS #AtlantaMoms #GeorgiaMama #CobbCountyLife #SmyrnaGA #MomLifeUnfiltered #SlowDownMama #GraceOverGrind #MamaNeedsRest
