You eat lunch standing at the counter. You answer a work email in the school pickup line. You finally sit down at 10 p.m., and the only rest you get is scrolling your phone until your eyes burn. Then you lie awake running through tomorrow.
If this sounds like your week, I want to say something gently: you are not failing at parenting. You’re running on empty. And no one, however loving, can pour from an empty cup.
Running on empty shows up at home
When we’re depleted, it rarely looks like quiet exhaustion. It looks like snapping over a wet towel on the floor. Losing patience at the third “in a minute.” Feeling a wave of resentment when your teen asks for a ride you forgot you promised.
Those moments don’t mean you’re a bad parent. They’re often signals. Your body and mind are telling you that they need something, and that the need has gone unmet for a while.
Parenting a teen asks for a particular kind of energy: patience when they push back, calm when they’re upset, steadiness when you’re worried. That energy has to come from somewhere. When you refill it, you’re not taking something away from your family. You’re making sure there’s something left to give.
Rest is not a reward
Many of us grew up believing rest is something you earn when the work is done. But in a family, the work is never done. There will always be another load of laundry, another permission slip, another worry.
So here’s what I believe: rest is not a reward. It’s a need, and it’s allowed to be met before everything is finished. I write more about this in Rest Is Not a Reward.
Rest also doesn’t have to mean a weekend away. It can be small: a few minutes alone in the car, a walk around the block, a quiet cup of tea before anyone else is up. Small rest, done often, adds up.
Your teen is watching how you treat yourself
Teens notice more than we think. When they see you push through exhaustion without a break, they may learn that their worth comes from never stopping. When they hear you say, “I’m tired, so I’m going to sit outside for a few minutes,” they learn that caring for yourself is normal.
You don’t have to make it a lesson. Just let them see it. Your rest can be a quiet example of the kind of adult you hope they’ll become.
When guilt shows up
For many parents, the hardest part of resting isn’t finding the time. It’s the voice that says, Good parents don’t need breaks, or You should be doing something useful.
This is a good moment for the four steps of Notice, Pause, Check, Choose. Notice the thought. Pause and feel where the guilt sits in your body. Check: Is it true that resting makes me a bad parent? What else could be true? Maybe a rested parent is a kinder, steadier parent. Then Choose a step that fits what you value.
You can also try the Best-Friend Test. Would you tell a worn-out friend she doesn’t deserve a break? Probably not. You’d tell her to sit down, and maybe you’d bring her a coffee. You’re allowed to offer yourself the same kindness.
You don’t have to do it alone
Every family looks different. You may be a single parent, a grandparent raising grandchildren, a foster or adoptive parent, a co-parent across two homes, or part of a busy household where everyone is stretched thin. Whatever your family looks like, you deserve support.
Asking for help is not a weakness. It might be a friend who can drive one afternoon a week, a relative who can take over dinner on a hard night, or a neighbor who has offered before. It might also be someone who can walk beside you for a while.
If that’s what you need, Reset and Rise is my six-week, one-on-one coaching program for parents and caregivers of teens. It’s a place to breathe, practice and remember that you matter too.
Rest is not a reward. It is a need, and I honor it.
If you’re feeling hopeless or having thoughts of harming yourself, please call or text 988 (U.S.) right now.