There’s a moment on every family trip, even the relaxing ones, when I remember just how much “Mom” truly means.
It’s not just a role. It’s not just a name.
It’s a 24/7 energetic tether to your kids, no matter how old they are, no matter how far you travel, and no matter how desperately you try to rest.
We just went on vacation, and all I kept hearing was:
“Mom, do you have a hair tie?”
“Mom, can you hold this?”
“Mom, where’s the sunscreen?”
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
“Mom, can you hand me the towel?”
“Mom. Mom. Mom.”
And mind you, my kids are teenagers.
I’m not sharing this to complain. I LOVE being a mom more than anything in the world. But even on vacation, in a swimsuit with the sun on my face, I realized something powerful:
Being a mom means being the default.
The go-to. The constant.
The one who remembers, the one who finds, the one who knows.
A Moment on the Plane That Said It All
On the way to our destination, a family was seated near us. Mom with two of the kids in one row, Dad with the other two nearby.
The mom fell asleep, like truly asleep, the rare kind of deep rest moms only get in transit.
The dad tapped me gently and asked if I could wake her. I looked at her, peaceful at last, and said, “She’s sleeping.”
He replied, “It’s okay, I’m her husband. The kids need something.”
So, I tapped her, and she woke up instantly, in full mom-mode.
The urgent need?
An iPad.
Not medicine. Not a meltdown.
Just an iPad.
About 20 minutes later, it happened again.
And I couldn’t stop thinking:
Why didn’t he just take care of it himself?
Why did she have to wake up, again, when he was just as capable?
We Carry It All; Even When We’re Supposed to Be Off the Clock
It’s not just sunscreen, snacks, or streaming devices.
It’s the mental load. The emotional load.
It’s being the keeper of routines, the finder of things, the rememberer of everyone’s everything.
And even on vacation, the time that’s supposed to be ours too, the invisible work doesn’t disappear.
And still… we do it.
We answer the “Mom?” for the 97th time.
We find the charger. We apply the sunscreen.
We don’t sleep as deeply because our ears are still tuned to everyone else’s needs.
Because that’s who we are.
But Here’s the Truth:
There is power in being the one they trust.
There’s strength in being the soft landing, the safe place, the name they call out without thinking.
But it’s also okay to say, I need a minute.
I need to finish this page, this coffee, this breath.
Because being a mom doesn’t mean being everything, every second.
It means showing up, again and again, in love.
But it also means learning to take up space for yourself too.
Even if that means handing someone else the sunscreen…
and keeping your eyes closed for five more minutes.