Diary of a Thriving Mum

The New Year is a time for fresh starts, and, apparently, stomach bugs, fevers, and periods deciding to synchronize their chaos like it’s a flash mob. Yep, that’s how my year kicked off. My child was burning up with a fever, coughing like a jazz trumpeter, while I was camped out in the bathroom clutching my stomach. Oh, and just for fun, my period decided to make its grand entrance. A “are you kidding me right now?” moment.

When you’re a single parent, there’s no time to wallow, no space to say, “I can’t.” My child needed me, so I showed up, even when my body begged me not to. But as I held her through the night, my arms aching and my eyes tired, I couldn’t help but wonder: Who takes care of us? Who steps in when we’re running on fumes?

Last night, it hit me hard—this is the reality of single parenting. It’s not just the physical tiredness but the emotional weight of knowing everything falls on you. There’s no backup, no partner to share the burden. And yet, somehow, we keep going because love fuels us, even when energy runs out.

A Reminder of Grace

If I’m honest, I wanted to just sleep, be cared for, to have someone hold me and tell me it would be okay while helping with her. And that’s where my family and friends became my lifeline. My brother, seeing the exhaustion etched across my face, stepped in and gave me the most precious gift: an hour to myself. Just one hour, but it felt like an eternity of relief. I used that time to breathe, eat! and watch a show, to remind myself that even in the hardest moments, I’m not completely alone. It was a small act of kindness that carried a massive weight.

My friend gave me some dumplings and hash browns for dinner, while another came to give me company, others checked in on us. That was a breath of fresh air, we are not actually so alone just because there is no co-parent or spouse to lean on.

A New Year, Not a Pity Party

This year didn’t start as I hoped—it began with sickness, sleepless nights, and overwhelming fatigue. But I’ve decided this won’t be the tone of my entire year. Life as a single parent is hard, and some days will feel impossible, but I refuse to let the struggle define me.

I know this season is hard—tiring times infinity—but this year isn’t about throwing myself a pity party. It’s about picking myself up, dusting off the chaos, and showing up again tomorrow. Because for all its challenges, this journey also comes with giggles, hugs, and moments that make it all worth it.

So here’s to 2025: the year of embracing the mess, laughing through the chaos, and reminding ourselves that we’re stronger than we think.

How about you? How did your year start? Let me know in the comments—I could use a laugh or some solidarity!