A Day in the Life

Doom Scrolling

We all do it, don't we? We promise ourselves not to look at our phones before bed, insist it will only be five more minutes, or say "just one more reel." Before long, 500 reels have passed, two hours in bed have gone by, and you've spent the night doom scrolling. You've watched endless videos of women dancing in bikinis, a man chopping wood, comedic parodies of how ketchup would argue with mustard, or whatever else the algorithm decides to show you.

I used to be captivated by "Day in the Life" videos that women posted. I'd watch them "wake up" in their luxurious bedrooms, with sunlight gently streaming through the windows. Their hair always appeared flawless, despite claiming to have just slept for eight hours. They would wash their faces and apply high-end lotions and creams. Then, we'd follow them into their spacious kitchens, spotless and pristine. They'd craft the most aesthetically pleasing iced coffee before heading out for their daily "hot girl walk" or gym session. Upon returning to their immaculate homes, they’d prepare a healthy breakfast—often yogurt bowls with berries or eggs with sourdough toast. The rest of their day was filled with work, leisure reading, lounging by the pool, shopping, and a cozy bedtime routine to finish it off. Every meal was nutritious and homemade, except on date nights, when they'd enjoy an elegant four-course dinner, looking like supermodels. In every scene, they appeared happy, relaxed, and content, right up until they slipped into their satin sheets for the night. A perfect day. A perfect life.

In Comparison

I know, I know, comparison is the thief of joy. And I know they are only showing us the most glamorous aspects of their lives, and it's not worth it to compare your life to theirs. But I'd still love to go to the gym in the morning and read for fun.

A Day in the Life (Single Mom Edition)

Wake up to the sound of your child's voice saying, "Mommy, get up. Mommy, get up. Mommy, get up." Bonus points if he throws a stuffed animal at your head or has been kicking you in the ribs all night.

Run to the bathroom sink. You don't have time to wash your face right now, but you can probably pull off brushing your teeth... right after making sure your child brushed theirs.

Run downstairs and realize you have 20 minutes until the bus arrives. You have to make your son breakfast, pack his lunch, help him get dressed, and if you're lucky, finish some of the dishes that have been piling up in the sink (because your son tried to "make a volcano" last night and needed every spatula, pot, and pan you own.)

As you're rushing him out the door to meet the bus, you step on a Cheerio or two. Deal with that later... he's on the bus now. Okay, adult time.

You have an hour until work starts, so if you act fast, you can sneak in a quick workout in your living room and shower (but make it quick!)

You pull it off! You walk into work just in time. That's when you realize you forgot to eat breakfast again. Order overpriced coffee and an egg sandwich from DoorDash and settle into your office routine.

As soon as work finishes, you return to mom duties. After school, it's snack time (no, I wanted Goldfish, not applesauce), then playing at the park, taking your son to the grocery store for milk, and ending up with milk, a pack of balloons, and a Hot Wheels car because you didn't have the energy for an argument today. You start preparing your son's dinner. You always pictured having dinner together at the table as a family, but now that it's just the two of you, you're unsure if it makes sense. He eats dinner, but you forget to prepare enough for yourself. That's okay. I'll eat after he goes to bed. Bedtime involves a flurry of stories, lullabies, and your son asking for "one more glass of water." He finally falls asleep (2 hours past his bedtime.) Your stomach growls because once again, you forgot to eat.

You tiptoe downstairs and pry open the fridge, praying there are some leftovers inside because you don't have the energy to cook or the money to DoorDash... again. The house is a mess. Toys are scattered on the floor, and the sink is somehow full of dishes again. You are thankful because a part of you always yearned for a house with Play-Doh in the carpet and toy soldiers under the couch.

You are also sad because you thought you wouldn't be cleaning the toy trucks and crushed graham crackers alone. It's not that you don't want this. You do. You just want some help.

But there isn't any.

So, you thank God for frozen pizza while you straighten up the living room and finally get to watch television that's not animated for the first time all day. After staying up way too late to relish a little "me time," you sneak into your bedroom to find your son snuggled up in your bed, waiting for you. You climb into bed alongside him and offer a small kiss on his temple. Not a perfect day, not a perfect life, just different, and you remind yourself that that's okay.

Get Ready with me for Date Night

It's your favorite influencer again! "Get ready with me for date night."

Step One: Take a shower. Your child will be right outside the shower curtain singing "Puff the Magic Dragon" to serenade you while you wash your hair. He will also compliment you on all the vanilla scents filling the air from the steam.

Step Two: Moisturize! Your son will decide he needs lotion too. Place a small dollop of cream on his fingers and then get back to you.

Step Three: Makeup. Your son will ask you what each and every product you are using does, and he will try to run away with your blush brush.

Step Four: Hair Care. Your son will ask you to keep pointing the hair dryer at him as he giggles and runs away.

Step Five: The Outfit. You will try on at least 15 outfits. Your son will tell you to wear black so you look like "Darth Vader," and to him, that is FASHION. You will decide to wear a dress instead, but he finds this acceptable. He says you look like "a beautiful princess," which gives you a tiny boost of confidence before your date.

Step Six: Prepare the house for the babysitter. Do all the dishes. Make sure there is food for her! Clean the toys. Get PJ in his pajamas. Give PJ the "babysitter is coming" pep talk. Run to the bank to get cash for the sitter. (*Reminder to all the men out there, a single mom is probably paying more for this date than you.)

Step Seven: Extra lip gloss, extra snuggles because you're going to miss your baby, second-guess if you should leave him for this date...

Knock knock, the babysitter is here! Too late to change your mind now...