Ashley Franklin

Doing the Best I Can

I had the weirdest thought as I’m valiantly fighting this manuscript:
“I wish I could go to the grocery store and think.”


Yeah, I know “I write. I teach. I mom.” is my thing, but the Mom part is like 90% of my time. This means, like many parents, I am always multitasking. I didn’t realize the extent of it until we started staying home in March. 😩MARCH!


I am tired—physically & mentally. I am also tired of being afraid. It’s exhausting. I’m afraid that this invisible nightmare could shatter my life, like it has done so many others, at any given second.
It’s the constant state of feeling like I’m doing all the things )yet none of the things) that gets to me. And it’s all under a wide-reaching umbrella of anxiety.


I wish I was able to release one of those infamous breaths in books that I didn’t know I was holding. (Come on, I know you’ve read a line something like that at some point in your life.) But I KNOW that I’m holding this. I don’t know if holding it is what’s keeping me together or if the release is what I need to feel lighter.


I don’t have a lesson or a tidy moral to this story. Maybe I just wanted to share a very real moment with you–just in case you’re feeling overwhelmed too. Maybe I’m tired of fighting the same manuscript I’ve been working on for months when I can usually write one in a couple of weeks and it is a fun distraction to write something completely different.
Maybe I regret not realizing that holding 90s & early 2000s nostalgia concerts behind a shopping cart in Walmart was one of my mental happy places.


But I know that this too shall pass. I have every right to a range of emotions, as we are experiencing a pandemic, after all.
I hope that after this, after life seems a little less scary and a little more predictable, that we all will savor moments of joy no matter how small. Inshallah, I know I will try my best to do so.

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I can’t do it all, and I’m finally okay with that.

Next week, both of my boys will be in pre-school/ daycare. I know that this may not seem like that big of a deal to many, but it’s huge for me. I teach online for a couple of colleges. I write. I occasionally tutor. My boys have been home with me since they day they were released from the hospital. There have been date nights sprinkled in, but they are few and far between.
I am not complaining. I am stating facts. It has been wonderful being home with my kids. I’ve not missed any milestones. I’ve had a chance to be there for them, and we are very close. I wouldn’t trade my time with them for the world.
Yet, I have to be realistic. I can no longer live off of less than 6 hours of sleep. I’m not as young as I used to be. My sleepless shake-back is no longer at college level. Why don’t I sleep much? Like many SAHMs, finishing up the daily cleanup tends not to happen until the kids have gone to bed. (There’s no greater satisfaction than knowing that you’ve picked up Legos for the final time during a 24-hour period.)  Once I’ve done than, I start working and breakfast is right around the corner.
I am fulfilled, but I am also tired. I’m extremely tired. Initially, I felt guilty, like I was abandoning my kids by putting them into preschool/ daycare. But, I realized that I can’t shortchange them or myself any longer. I’m entitled to be well-rested, and they’re entitled to a mom who isn’t too tired to enjoy their endless energy. To be perfectly honest, you want to know what helped me as well? I stopped looking at daycare as another expense. Instead, thanks to my husband’s prompting, I’m looking at it as an investment in myself and our family. (Yeah, there that guy goes with another gem, huh?)
I wear many hats, but starting next week, the next hat I wear is likely to be a hair bonnet while I catch up on some sleep.

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