Overwhelmed Mom: Why Knowing Better Hasn't Always Helped Me Do Better
What motherhood is teaching me about the mind, the body, capacity—and letting Christ meet me before I try to fix myself
Sit with me for a minute.
Have you ever known exactly what you should do...
and still couldn't do it?
You know you shouldn't yell.
You know your child's behavior is communication.
You know you're supposed to stay calm during the meltdown.
You've listened to the podcast. Read the book. Talked to the therapist.
You may even know exactly what you're supposed to say.
And then your child melts down at 7:42 on a Tuesday morning.
Nobody can find their shoes.
You're already late.
Someone doesn't want to go to school.
Your phone is reminding you about the pediatrician appointment you forgot to schedule.
There's an email waiting about the IEP.
And suddenly...
all that knowledge seems to disappear.
You react.
Later, when everything is quiet, the knowledge comes flooding back.
I knew better.
Why didn't I do better?
And then comes the shame.
If you're an overwhelmed mom, you may already know what you're supposed to do. The problem isn't always a lack of knowledge. Sometimes you simply don't have access to that knowledge in the same way when your whole system is overwhelmed.
When You're an Overwhelmed Mom, Knowing Isn't Always Enough
I've spent years learning about children, parenting, relationships, emotions, thoughts and behavior.
I believe that knowledge matters.
I also believe our thoughts matter.
The stories we tell ourselves about our circumstances can profoundly influence how we feel, what we do, and ultimately how we experience our lives.
But I'm learning that cognition isn't the whole story.
Because we're not just minds walking around carrying children and calendars.
We have bodies, too.
And those bodies are constantly receiving information.
When motherhood feels like an endless cycle of doctors, therapists, school meetings, IEPs, medications, behaviors, meals, laundry, work, appointments and advocacy...
your mind isn't the only part of you responding.
Your body is responding, too.
Maybe your jaw clenches.
Your shoulders tighten.
Your breathing changes.
Your stomach knots.
Your chest feels heavy.
You feel restless and need to do something.
Or maybe you shut down completely.
And sometimes, by the time your child has the meltdown...
your body has already been carrying the day for hours.
This changed something for me.
I used to approach many moments primarily through thought work:
“What am I thinking?”
“What story am I telling myself?”
“Is there another way I could think about this?”
Those are still valuable questions.
But I'm learning to add another question before I rush to change anything:
“What is happening in my body right now?”
Not:
How do I make this go away?
Not:
What's wrong with me?
Not even:
What does this sensation mean?
Just...
What do I notice?
Maybe there's warmth.
Pressure.
Tightness.
Heaviness.
Tingling.
A racing heart.
An urge to run, yell, grab my phone, eat something, work harder, or completely check out.
Sensation gives us information about what's happening in our bodies. One of the principles I'm learning in my somatic training is to become curious about sensation before immediately assigning a story or meaning to it. Pasted markdown
And that curiosity creates something incredibly important:
Space.
We don't have to think our way out of every emotion.
When we're highly activated or overwhelmed, clear thinking and intentional decision-making can become much harder.
So sometimes trying to immediately find a “better thought” isn't where I want to begin.
I want to begin with presence.
Can I notice what's happening?
Can I feel my feet?
Can I notice the tightness in my chest without immediately deciding what it means?
Can I allow an uncomfortable emotion to be here without needing to make it disappear?
This has become an important distinction in the work I'm developing inside Mom Mental Gym.
Because sometimes...
Grief needs to be grieved.
Anger may need to be felt without becoming yelling.
Fear may need to be noticed without being allowed to make the decision.
Anxiety may be present in my body while I still choose how I want to respond.
The goal isn't always:
negative thought → better thought → better feeling.
Sometimes the practice is:
Can I be here without running from what I'm experiencing?
And this is where Christ enters differently, too.
I used to think about personal growth as getting from where I am to where I should be.
But the Savior keeps teaching me something different.
He meets us where we are.
Not once we've stopped grieving.
Not after we've figured out the right thought.
Not when we've finally become patient enough.
Not when our nervous systems are perfectly calm.
Here.
In the exhaustion.
In the anger.
In the confusion.
In the car after the appointment when you don't know how you're going to add one more thing to your life.
And as we become more present to what is happening within our minds and bodies, I believe we can create more space to become still, listen, discern, and notice the Spirit.
Instead of immediately asking:
“How do I fix this?”
I can begin asking:
What is true here?What would Christ have me know?What am I being invited to release?What is mine to carry?What isn't mine to carry?What does my child actually need from me right now?What do I need?Lord, what would Thou have me do?
That feels very different from trying to force myself into feeling better.
This is becoming the heart of Mom Mental Gym.
I've been deepening the way I think about capacity.
I used to think capacity was mostly about having enough emotional, mental, physical and spiritual resources to handle everything life was asking of me.
Now I think there's another layer.
Capacity is also how much of my life I can stay present for.
Can I experience disappointment without immediately escaping it?
Can I experience anger without allowing it to choose my behavior?
Can I experience uncertainty without frantically trying to control everything?
Can I experience my child's distress without making their distress mean I'm failing?
Can I experience grief and joy?
Can I receive rest without guilt?
Can I notice something beautiful while something hard is still unresolved?
That's capacity.
And that is the kind of strength I want us to practice inside Mom Mental Gym.
Our new Capacity Circuit
I've been bringing the cognitive, somatic and spiritual pieces of my work together into one simple practice:
MEET → NOTICE → INVITE → EXPAND → RETURN
MEET — Can I meet myself where I am?No judgment. No fixing. Compassion before correction.
NOTICE — What is happening in my whole system?What's happening in my mind? My emotions? My body? What story am I telling? What sensations and urges do I notice?
INVITE — Can I let Christ meet me here?Not when I've fixed it. Here. What is true? What would He have me know?
EXPAND — Can I stay with this experience a little longer?Can I allow the sensation or emotion without immediately escaping, numbing, fixing or reacting?
RETURN — What is my next faithful response?Now that I've created a little space, what matters? How do I want to respond? What is mine to do next?
What this might look like at 7:42 on Tuesday morning
Your child refuses to get dressed.
You're late.
You feel the anger rising.
MEET
Okay. This is where I am.
I'm overwhelmed.
NOTICE
My jaw is tight.
My chest feels hot.
I'm thinking:
“Why does EVERYTHING have to be this hard?”
I want to yell.
INVITE
Jesus, meet me here.
Help me see what I can't see right now.
EXPAND
Can I let this heat be in my chest for a few moments without immediately acting on it?
I don't have to make it disappear.
I don't have to obey it either.
RETURN
What matters right now?
Maybe my next faithful response isn't the perfect parenting strategy.
Maybe it's simply lowering my voice.
Maybe it's getting down on my child's level.
Maybe it's realizing we're going to be late—and choosing connection anyway.
Maybe it's recognizing that I need support too.
That's a rep.
That's practice.
That's Mom Mental Gym.
Your circumstances may not change.
This part matters to me.
Mom Mental Gym isn't promising that your child will stop melting down.
The IEP may still need attention.
The therapist may still give you homework.
The doctor's appointment still needs to be scheduled.
The laundry will somehow reproduce overnight. 😉
And life may still contain things you would never choose.
But your capacity to experience that life can change.
You can become more able to feel without immediately escaping.
To pause without demanding perfection from yourself.
To discern instead of automatically reacting.
To notice beauty while something hard is still happening.
To experience joy without waiting until every problem is solved.
To return after the moments when you don't respond the way you wish you had.
And maybe that is part of what an abundant life can look like.
Not a life without hard things.
But a life we have the capacity to actually be here for.
Your Capacity Circuit 🤍
The next time you notice yourself thinking,
“I know better. Why can't I do better?”
don't make that another reason to judge yourself.
Try getting curious instead.
Ask yourself | |
MEET | Can I meet myself exactly where I am? |
NOTICE | What am I noticing in my mind, emotions, and body? |
INVITE | Christ, will You meet me here? What would You have me know? |
EXPAND | Can I make room for this experience without immediately fixing or escaping it? |
RETURN | What is my next faithful response? |
You don't need to master all five.
Practice one.
That's what we do in a gym.
We practice.
And when we miss the rep?
We return.
Sit with me.
Maybe knowing better hasn't always helped you do better because knowledge was never the only thing you needed.
Maybe you also needed the capacity to embody what you know.
A body you know how to listen to.
Space to experience emotions without fearing them.
Permission to stop trying to fix yourself long enough to understand yourself.
And a Savior who doesn't stand at the finish line waiting for the improved version of you.
He meets you here.
And from here, we practice.
Want to practice this with me? 🤍
I’m inviting 6 moms for 6 weeks to experience the new Mom Mental Gym method with me—completely free.
If you’re tired of just knowing what you should do and want to build the capacity to actually experience your life differently—with Christ beside you—I’d love to save you a seat.
6 Moms. 6 Weeks. Real life. Real practice.
Come as you are. We’ll start there.
Francini
Founder,
Mom Mental Gym
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