Did you know Strawbettery Red Tree Fog Moms Carry their Young for Years
Humans carry their young for years mentally a long time, too.
Strawberry tree Mother frogs carry their very young frog babies on their back for two whole years. The caring frog Moms bring their baby red frogs up trees, down trees. Two years is over 700 days of carrying a baby on their back. Initially I was certain this absurd parenting style was over board, yet, as I searched for more about these brilliantly poisonous frogs it dawned on me that we human mothers carry our children both mentally and physically for a lifetime.
And I am tired and wanting more. More than laundry, more than carpools, more than sports franchises ripping off my hard earned savings, more than mom drama and packing lunches. Holding hands with my daughters feels like the style of Mothering I prefer.
As Jerry Seinfeld joked in his comedy show we were blessed to see this past summer, Gen X has overly-cared more about our children than the last 5 generations combined. Parents in the 70s were often single-family incomes, the homemaker was apron clad and sent the kids outside often. Elise Loehnen’s book, the Seven Deadly Sins dives into the economics of women leaving their 1950s and 60s aprons on the hook to flourish in the workplace.
Former generations of parents were hands-off, pushing children out of the next at a young age. Freedom and self sufficiently strengthened children to play ain the local muddy puddles without the fanfare of our currently nightly bedtime routines that Seinfeld said are more like a coronation of a queen instead of a toddler.
Reflecting on 2024 and cheering myself into 2025, I noticed a theme of my role in the house, no longer on the road or working insane hours. I have become the camp counselor which I was at 14 and had no plans to do again.
This summer we rented houses, hotel rooms paddle boards. I located the best local ice cream, organized camps, play dates, a few sleepovers. In the spring, I planned haircuts, doctors appointments, and vaccines for back to school. My printer ran out of ink from all the school forms and Volleyball volunteer paperwork I completed, often slightly disorganized due to overwhelm. Fall and winter were the same parenting backpacking trip up hills created by bureaucracy in schools or my own schedule to keep my girls from being bored too long. All the while I worked in the crevasses of days and nights, moved food from the freezer to airfryer or ninja. The carrying of my own tree frogs went mostly underappreciated.
Being a stay at home, mom has never been my goal. Instead to have purpose and use my brain to help people with financial wellness or team wellness or personal wellness. However, in summer, my parent duties stretch to far. In the summertime, my book writing stalled. My working time outside of client meetings was all of 2% of the week and our family slime ingredient trips to target at an all time high.
Like all the parents out there I get it done. There are seasons of life where we do focus on family versus career or purpose.
But do I need to? In 2025, I’m not allowing myself to carry my kids up the vines of the tree. It’s strange how quickly we can forget ourselves. When you become a mom, it feels like there’s this invisible shift, a rewiring of priorities. Suddenly, your needs are somewhere far down the list.
It’s easy to miss the carrying loads and loads. At first don’t realize it. At first, you think, “I’m doing fine. I’m handling it.” And maybe you are. But one day, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back. There’s this tiredness or heaviness that didn’t used to be there. And you realize: somewhere along the way, you stopped taking care of yourself.
It’s not just planning an instagram-worthy symbols of self-care. It’s the little things. Eating a meal while it’s still warm. Drinking your coffee after it has been poured. Taking ten uninterrupted minutes to breathe and notice your body.
I’ve told myself it’s okay. That it’s what moms do in nature in many species, we carry the load. We give and give because we love them. But what kind of lesson am I teaching my girls that taking care of the family means neglecting yourself?
This realization doesn’t come with an easy fix. There’s no magic solution, no “one size fits all” guide to balancing the chaos of motherhood and self-care. But I’ve started small. Saying no when things do not align to my family. I ask myself “will I see these people in ten years or travel to see them if they move. If the answer is no, I say more than I say yes. When I hire sitters, I ask them to pitch in with matching socks, stripping beds and doing dishes or organzing the crayons. Specific help is the best kind of help.
Taking care of me is taking care of them, too. Taking on more at work means I’m more stimulated and have less time for the mommy drama.
As Trevor Hall and Brett Dennan sings, put down what you are carrying, Mom.