The habit of not doing it all

Lately, I’ve noticed that being stretched thin and juggling a million things at once is how family life is expected to look these days. It’s become normalized for kids to be overscheduled with after-school activities, for weekend plans to fill up before they begin, and many parents (myself included!) feel the unspoken pressure to do it all. Juggle a career, volunteer commitments, endless school events, all while keeping the house running smoothly and being fully present through it all. Because on the surface, a full schedule looks like success, right? But I started asking myself a different question: who is this actually helping? And what does constantly doing “everything” mean for our emotional and physical health as a family?

I fell right into this pattern. With three kids and a full-time job, I said yes to almost everything. I volunteered, signed up to help whenever I could, and stayed in constant communication with everyone. At first, it felt good. I felt productive, involved, and like I was doing what a “good” parent was supposed to do. But over time, that busyness stopped feeling fulfilling and started feeling draining and exhausting. 

That’s when it became clear that something had to change. After a lot of reflection, I made a conscious decision to stop trying to do it all—not just for myself, but for the health of our entire family. Choosing to do less wasn’t about giving up or caring less. It was about creating more space for rest, connection, and a calmer rhythm at home. Here’s what practicing the habit of not doing it all has taught me.

The effects of doing it all

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that when one person in the family tries to do it all, it affects everyone. When I’m stressed and running on empty, my patience wears thin, and suddenly everyone is getting the short end of the stick. I might be physically present, but I’m mentally making lists, answering emails in my head, and wondering how I forgot another permission slip. That version of me isn’t exactly my best or most attentive self.

Kids are incredibly perceptive. They pick up on tension, rushed energy, and the “I’m listening but not really” look. That stress seeps into the home, changing the tone of our days and how connected we feel to one another. And kids feel it too. They can become more anxious, irritable, or clingy. They might mirror our rushed energy, argue more, or struggle to relax because their little bodies and brains are picking up on the same stress signals we’re sending. 

Doing it all also takes a toll on us physically. Chronic stress can turn into fatigue, poor sleep, headaches, or that vague, “off” feeling that you can’t quite put your finger on. When rest gets pushed aside, it becomes harder to stay patient, present, and consistent with our kids. Suddenly, the little things (like snapping at a spilled cup of juice) start to pile up. It’s our body’s way of waving a giant warning flag, saying, “Hey, something in this routine isn’t working, and it’s time to slow down before it gets worse.”

Practicing the habit of not doing it all

Here’s how I put it in practice:

Simplifying our schedule 

The first step for me was learning to let go of commitments that didn’t truly matter. That meant saying no more often. Not to everything, but to the things that didn’t actually add joy or value. I didn’t have to say “yes” to every birthday party, extracurricular activity, or invitation. It was surprisingly freeing to realize that missing a few things didn’t make me a bad parent, and rather made space for what we really wanted to do. Simplifying also meant intentionally carving out pockets of rest. We started protecting time on weekends or after school for slower, calmer activities like long family dinners or a lazy movie night on the couch. 

Sharing responsibility 

Another big change for us has been letting the kids do things themselves instead of me trying to (micro)manage everything for them. Even toddlers can help set the table, put away their toys, or pick out their own clothes (tutu with combat boots and bunny ears? Sure!). Older kids can tackle small chores, help plan meals, or unload the dishwasher (just the unbreakables, for obvious reasons).

Not only does this lighten my load, it also gives them a sense of pride and independence. Plus, I get to step back a little without feeling guilty, because we’re all pitching in and learning as we go. Sure, it might take longer, and yes, things won’t always be perfect, but the payoff is huge.

Building healthy habits together

Part of making all of this work is being proactive about healthy habits, and not scrambling when we’re stressed or overwhelmed. For us, that looks like making sure we get enough sleep, focusing on nutritious meals and snacks, going for walks or dancing around the living room, and taking short breaks to breathe or stretch during busy days. 

It also means checking in with each other emotionally, and asking how someone’s day really went or noticing when someone looks like they need a breather. It’s not perfect, and we don’t get it right every time, but these little habits start to build a rhythm. Over time, they help everyone feel calmer, more connected, and just a bit more prepared to handle whatever chaos the day decides to throw at us.

Finding peace in not doing it all

Looking back, choosing to stop doing it all has been one of the most important lessons I’ve learned. I’m not saying we have it all figured out, and some days I still feel the pull to overcommit. But now, I notice when I’m stretching myself too thin and can pull back before it affects everyone else.

Our home feels calmer, our connection feels stronger, and even the little things, like laughing together during a messy dinner or pausing for a dance in the living room, have become highlights. Most importantly, I’ve realized that family health isn’t about doing more, it’s about doing better. Being present, rested, and intentional. And sometimes, the best thing I can do for my kids is show them that it’s okay to slow down, say no, and take care of ourselves along the way. And that, I think, is exactly the kind of example I want to set.