Mother's Day Gave Me A Hangover

There was no alcohol involved, but I dialed my nervous system up to level 1000 and didn’t downgrade it until late the next day. I’ve nicknamed this type of experience an “energy hangover.” It’s when the effects of a day drain my energy, leaving me flu-adjacent: headache, tired, and spacey. (See also: Super Bowl Monday, July 5th, December 26th, and the day after any birthday or large gathering).

On Mother’s Day, I vociferously fawned over my kid’s thoughtful gifts and handmade cards, clumsily cheered on my son’s soccer team, navigated a grocery run in a store besought with frantic dads and their last-minute bouquets, and plowed through laundry piles — all before an afternoon gathering at my mother-in-law’s. There were almost no breaks, and my nervous system spent extra time in fight, flight, and fawn trying to facilitate others’ happiness and expectations. By 6pm, I was so mentally crispy that I skipped a shower to prioritize a soft blanket and Queen Charlotte.

I sound like a complainer, so to clarify: Mother’s Day was a special and fulfilling day. It’s a day and celebration I’m overall thankful to have. But motherhood and parenting are a landscape where even a lovely day can knock us horizontal.

On all days, especially the taxing ones, I aim to stay mindful and present. I have to be centered so that I don’t snap over every splattered smoothie, misplaced hoodie, and forgotten homework assignment. Yet, lengthy mindfulness practices elude me. It’s almost certain that a tiny hand gripping my shirt or the sound of a plate crashing downstairs will jolt me out of any long meditation or at-home yoga.

So, I created micro-meditations for myself. I infuse my day with mini-moments of awareness that, when strung together, provide me a steadier groundwork for a more balanced day. They’re simple and mostly inexpensive: early morning green tea held close to my heart for a few breaths, a salt soak before the household wakes, and pausing sporadically in my car to breathe before I exit. Some days, these moments get squeezed out by the pressing needs of my sons. Other days, I have space to take greater refuge in my practices.

I detailed my methods during a recent podcast interview with Off the Veil.

In our meaningful dialogue, I shared with host Dorra that my primary non-negotiable daily practices are self-empathy and self-compassion. They create the foundation of being kind to myself and shape me as a parent. And, when possible, I infuse my micro-meditations into as many occasions as possible.

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