We’re Not Lazy, We’re Exhausted: Why Mothers Need a Sabbath

Somewhere along the way, rest became optional for mothers.

Not officially. No one announced it. But the expectation crept in quietly and stayed. There is always something to do, someone to tend to, something unfinished. And slowly, rest disappeared.

What we don’t talk about enough is this: when mothers don’t rest, relationships suffer.

Not because we don’t love our families.

But because exhaustion changes how love shows up.

When rest is missing, we become:

• Shorter with our patience

• Emotionally unavailable

• Easily irritated

• Present in body, absent in spirit

This isn’t a motherhood failure. It’s a rest deficit.

Rest Isn’t Indulgent — It’s Protective

I grew up in a Seventh-day Adventist home where observing the Sabbath wasn’t optional. From Friday sunset to Saturday sunset, everything slowed down. Work stopped. Errands waited. Productivity paused.

Even though much of the day was spent at church, it was still rest. It was life intentionally interrupted.

As a child, I didn’t always appreciate it. As a mother, I understand it deeply.

That rhythm shaped me more than I realized, and it’s something I’ve carried into motherhood in a personal, practical way.

Today, I keep a dedicated Sabbath.

One day each week, I intentionally step away from the usual mental and physical load. No chores. No emails. No “just one quick thing.” It’s my reset button. My protected space.

On that day, rest isn’t lazy. It’s sacred.

What Happens When Mothers Never Stop

Here’s the part many of us avoid saying out loud. When mothers don’t rest:

• Resentment quietly builds

• Patience wears thin

• Small issues feel overwhelming

• Connection feels like another task

And relationships feel it first.

Marriage feels heavier.

Motherhood feels like duty instead of joy.

Family interactions feel tense, not tender.

Burnout isn’t a badge of honor. It’s a warning sign.

Sabbath in Real Motherhood (Yes, With Kids)

Let’s be honest: Sabbath with kids isn’t silent or aesthetic. My children are still present. They’re energetic. They don’t naturally gravitate toward rest. But they are learning.

They’re learning that this day means:

• Fewer activities

• Slower pacing

• Quieter play

• More space to just be

They’re learning that rest matters — not just for them, but for their mother.

And as they grow, I believe they’ll come to appreciate this pause the way I eventually did.

Because Sabbath isn’t about perfection. It’s about permission.

Permission to stop.

Permission to breathe.

Permission to not be “on” all the time.

You Don’t Need My Sabbath — You Need A Sabbath

This isn’t about religion or dogma unless you want it to be. It’s about wisdom.

Choose one day.

Any day.

One day each week, where you stop pushing, producing, fixing, and catching up.

Protect it fiercely. Unapologetically.

Not because everything is done — but because you matter even when it isn’t.

And here’s the beautiful truth: when mothers rest, families don’t fall apart.

They soften.

They stabilize.

They heal.

You’ll find yourself more patient, more present, and more emotionally available — not because you tried harder, but because you finally stopped.

Rest Is Not Quitting Motherhood — It’s Sustaining It

We were never meant to mother endlessly without pause.

Rest doesn’t make you lazy. It makes you whole.

And when mothers are whole, relationships don’t just survive.

They thrive.

Want to Go Deeper?

I talk more about rest, permission, and sustainable motherhood in my book, The Lazy Mom’s Guide to Motherhood. It’s not about doing less out of neglect. It’s about doing what truly matters without losing yourself in the process.

If you’re tired of feeling stretched thin, overwhelmed, and emotionally depleted — this book was written with you in mind.

👉 The Lazy Mom’s Guide to Motherhood is available now.

The Lazy Mom's Guide to Motherhood - Paperback

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