Latch, Laugh, and Repeat

I always told my therapist I didn’t have postpartum depression, mostly because she asked me in some version, every single week. Even now, looking back, I really believe I didn’t—at least not in the clinic-definition way. But what did happen was overwhelm. Constant, gnawing overwhelm that made even everyday things feel unbearable. Dishes piled up. Laundry turned into actual mountains. My brain kept making lists and I couldn’t seem to do the “easy” ones — and because they never got done, they turned into the heavy ones that sparked fights with my husband.

Sorry love.

Working from home while being the sole caregiver felt like walking on a tightrope. I’d wake up thinking I’d catch up that day. But by afternoon, I was buried again. Inside, I was demanding of myself: “Get back to normal.” But “normal” had changed—suddenly, what I thought was normal wasn’t real anymore, especially with a newborn who doesn’t care if you haven’t showered, or eaten, or folded your clothes.

I tried the usual stuff first: write a list, cross it off. My therapist recommended sticky notes with tasks written on them hanging off my cabinets. “Crumple them, throw them away once the task was done.” Easy enough you would think. That week felt good. But then life’s chaos pulled me under and the notes disappeared. The guilt crept back. Everything undone. I felt like I was failing all over again.

It clicked one day that the problem wasn’t me being lazy, or not strong enough. The problem was that my list was eternal, the expectations were sky-high, and I didn’t have a realistic way of wearing all those hats every single day. What I needed was structure. Something forgiving. Something where a win looked real, tangible.

So I built a rhythm. Not perfect. Not always followed. But regular enough to pull me out of that black hole more times than not.

Chat GPT Prompt Guide:
“I need to create a schedule for myself as a work-from-home parent with a toddler. I want to make sure I leave time to:

• [Insert your personal non-negotiables: e.g., workout, shower, breakfast]
• [Insert your work hours and any fixed meetings or responsibilities]
• [Insert nap time routine details if applicable: how long it takes to get your child to sleep and how long they typically nap]

I also want to:

• Have 1 household task per day (cleaning or laundry) so chores don’t pile up
• [Insert any additional recurring responsibilities like feeding pets or prepping meals]

Please ask me any questions you need to help me create a routine that feels realistic and supportive.

After a little back and fourth… we settled on this…

• Monday: Vacuum
• Tuesday: Adult Clothes
• Wednesday: Towels
• Thursday: Baby Clothes
• Friday: Bed Sheets / Blankets
• Nightly: Run Dish Washer
• Mornings: Put Clean Dishes Away
• Naps: Scoop cat liter box

On Mondays, I’d make vacuuming the house my one thing. Just vacuum. No other cleaning task unless it was urgent. I’d drag furniture, get under the beds, deal with dust, hair—especially with dogs + kids + mess combo—it’s brutal, but when that day is just about that task, it takes the overload off my brain.

On Tuesdays I tackle adult laundry — washing, folding, hanging everything where it belongs. Sometimes I’ve got help, but nothing stays on the floor: all clean, all folded, all put away (yes, (yes, even the sock the dog chewed)

The task is not complete until everything folded — is put away.

Wednesdays are towels. Thursday, baby clothes. Friday, sheets. Sure, it bleeds into the weekend because of blankets, pillows, dog hair, etc., but sliding into clean sheets on Friday night? Game changer.

Every night I try to clear the sink: dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Morning comes, I put clean dishes away. Keeps the dread out of the kitchen. If I’m exhausted, I ask my husband to help me clean or wait till the next morning. Some nights, good enough -> is enough.

Some days I let everything fall apart — the laundry, the sink, the unmet expectations all pile up and I feel like I’m drowning. Even on those days of chaos, I cling to one moment: “I did something.” The wins matter. Because getting just one thing done fully in a day stops my brain from bouncing all over what I haven’t done. It lets me say: “I DID THAT.” And that makes me feel more like myself again.

Over time, I noticed stuff shift. The arguments eased. I felt less like I was failing. I could breathe in the house more—not literally clean, but mentally cleaner. The mountain wasn’t shrinking overnight, but I was climbing without sliding all the way back down.

Here’s what I learned:

• Celebrate the small wins. They keep you going.
• Simplify your expectations. You don’t have to do everything. Let some things slide so you have bandwidth for what really matters.
• Build a system that works for you, not what it looks like on social media or what others expect.
• Share the load. Accept help. Ask for it. Let someone else do the dishes or folding sometimes.
• Give yourself grace. Missed days aren’t failures. Rest days aren’t lazy. They are necessary.
• Be honest with your partner. When things get on top of you, saying so gives space for support—emotionally, physically.

If you’re reading this and the laundry looks like Everest, the dishes are pilling up, your brain is tired—know this: you’re not alone. Overwhelm is real; it’s not just “in your head.” But it doesn’t have to be permanent. Maybe start by picking one day + one task. Do it fully. Celebrate when it’s done. Build from there.

You deserve the win. And you deserve a little peace in the mess.