Why “enjoy every minute” might be one of the least helpful things we tell parents.

Every now and again, I have a parenting day that just feels… heavy.

I can’t always put my finger on what makes these days different. Nothing dramatic has necessarily happened. The children aren’t behaving particularly differently. Life hasn’t suddenly fallen apart. But I feel different. Everything feels like an effort. My thoughts become louder. I can’t cope. I need a break. I desperately want some time away from everyone. And, on one particularly difficult day, I even found myself thinking about how I could understand why some people leave their families.

Now, before you panic — no, I don’t want to leave my family. I adore my children. I love my life. I know how incredibly lucky I am. But that thought was there. And I think that’s important to talk about. We can sometimes become so frightened of having the “wrong” thoughts or feelings that we forget something fundamental: having a thought or an emotion doesn’t mean you want it to be true.

Sometimes, a hard thought is simply a hard thought.

When everything feels like too much

This particular week probably had a few things working against me.

Hormones. The end of summer. The impending return to school. The slightly chaotic end to the holidays that hadn’t quite gone as I’d imagined. And, of course, the small matter of trying to simultaneously parent two young children, work, run a business, maintain a home, have a relationship, see friends, remember approximately 47 things that need buying, organising or replying to…

You know. Just the usual.

It wasn’t that my life was objectively terrible. It was that my capacity was temporarily lower than the demands being placed upon it. I think this is where we can get ourselves into trouble; because when we’re already struggling, we don’t just experience the difficult emotion, we judge ourselves for having it.

“Enjoy every minute”

I’ve thought a lot recently about the messages we receive about parenting. There are the social media posts reminding us that we only get a certain number of summers with our children. The reminders that one day we’ll miss the little hands reaching for us, the voices calling “Mum”, the bedtime stories, the cuddles. And there is truth in that. Sometimes those reminders genuinely help. They can pull us out of the daily frustrations and remind us that this phase of life is temporary. But I’ve realised that sometimes they can become another form of pressure. Because suddenly, instead of simply having a difficult afternoon, I’m thinking:

I’m not enjoying this enough.

I should be more grateful.

One day I’ll wish I could have this day back.

Why am I finding this so hard when I know how lucky I am?

And now I’ve somehow managed to turn being overwhelmed into something else I need to feel guilty about. Excellent. Just what I needed.

I remember saying something similar to my health visitor when I had my first baby. I asked her: “Why does everyone tell you to enjoy every minute when every minute isn’t enjoyable?” And she told me that I was right. Every minute isn’t enjoyable. And it isn’t supposed to be.

The myth of perfect

One of the things we explore in therapy is the idea that there is a “right” way to feel. We can fall into thinking that if we’re doing life properly, we should feel happy, grateful, patient, calm and fulfilled most of the time. And if we don’t? We assume we’re doing something wrong. But human beings don’t work like that.

We experience a whole range of emotions. Happiness, frustration, love, resentment, excitement, boredom, gratitude, irritation, sadness, contentment, overwhelm. Sometimes several of them at exactly the same time.

You can love your children enormously and desperately need them to stop asking you for snacks.

You can be grateful for your life and still want five minutes alone in a locked bathroom.

You can adore your partner and occasionally find them incredibly annoying.

You can love your job and still fantasise about handing in your notice on a Tuesday afternoon.

None of these things cancel out the others.

Two seemingly opposite things can be true at the same time. This is something we often forget when we are striving for perfection.

Perfectionism doesn’t always look like being perfect

When we hear the word perfectionism, we might imagine someone who is exceptionally organised, high-achieving and has an immaculate house. But perfectionism can be much quieter than that. It can sound like:

I should be coping better.

I shouldn’t be getting this frustrated.

Other mums seem to manage.

I should be enjoying this stage more.

I need to make the most of every moment.

I’m not doing enough.

I need to be a better mum.

And underneath all of those “shoulds” is often the same impossible expectation: There is a perfect way to do this, and I need to find it. But there isn’t.

There is no perfect parent.

There is no perfect childhood.

There is no perfect relationship.

There is no perfect work-life balance.

And there certainly isn’t a version of parenting where you enjoy every minute.

What if the goal isn’t to feel good all the time?

Perhaps the goal isn’t to make every day enjoyable. Perhaps it’s to become more comfortable with the fact that some days won’t be. To notice when we’re struggling without immediately deciding that something is wrong with us. To recognise the difference between: “I’m having a really hard day.” and “I’m a terrible mum because I’m having a really hard day.”

Those two statements might look similar, but they take us somewhere very different. The first allows us to respond with compassion. The second adds another weight to an already heavy load.

Pay attention to the story you’re telling yourself

When life feels overwhelming, it can be useful to notice not just what you’re feeling, but what you’re telling yourself about that feeling.

Am I exhausted — or am I telling myself I shouldn’t be exhausted?

Am I struggling — or am I judging myself for struggling?

Am I having a difficult day — or have I decided that having a difficult day means I’m failing?

Our thoughts aren’t facts.And we don’t have to believe every thought that turns up, particularly when we’re tired, hormonal, overstimulated or running on our third coffee.

Sometimes the most helpful thing we can do is create a little space between what we’re experiencing and what we think it means about us.

You don’t have to enjoy every minute

That difficult week didn’t magically disappear. But eventually, the weight lifted a little, and interestingly, the next day wasn’t necessarily perfect either. It just felt lighter. That reminded me of something I think is worth saying out loud:

You don’t have to enjoy every minute to love your life.

You don’t have to feel grateful every day to be grateful.

You don’t have to feel endlessly patient to be a good parent.

And you don’t have to get everything right to be doing a good enough job.

Some days are hard.

Some seasons are hard.

Sometimes we simply have less capacity than usual.

That doesn’t mean we’re failing.

It means we’re human.

And perhaps rather than striving for the impossible goal of perfect, we can start aiming for something much more realistic: good enough.

Good enough parenting.

Good enough work.

Good enough relationships.

Good enough days.

Because perfection doesn’t exist, and the constant pursuit of it can make an already heavy load feel even heavier. Sometimes, the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is put the perfectionism down for a moment, take a breath, and remind ourselves:

This is a hard day. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.