My Very Hectic Life Story

My name is Tara, and I live a very hectic life. From the moment I wake up to the second I close my eyes at night, something is always happening. Sometimes I wonder how I survive it all, but somehow, I do. This is my story.

My day starts before the sun rises. At 5:30 AM, my alarm rings loudly. I never hit snooze, because I know I don’t have time to waste. I get out of bed slowly, rubbing my eyes. I stretch my arms and take a deep breath. It’s time to start the day.

First, I make breakfast for my two children. Jason is 10 years old and Mia is 7. They are sweet but very energetic. They ask a million questions every morning, like “Where’s my socks?” or “Can I have pancakes instead of cereal?” I try to answer while also packing their lunchboxes, filling their water bottles, and checking their school bags.

After breakfast, I help them get dressed and ready for school. Mia always wants to wear her favorite pink headband, but she loses it all the time. Jason complains about his homework and forgets his books often. I have to stay calm even when I feel like screaming.

At 7:30 AM, I drop them off at school. Then, I rush to my job. I work as a receptionist at a medical clinic. My shift starts at 8 AM. I have to smile and greet patients, answer phones, schedule appointments, and help the nurses. It’s a busy place with many people coming and going. Some patients are kind, others are not. Some days, I feel like crying at my desk, but I don’t. I keep going.

Lunch breaks are short. I usually eat a sandwich at my desk. Sometimes, I forget to eat at all. My mind is always racing with things I need to do — groceries, bills, cleaning, cooking, laundry, and more.

By 4 PM, I leave work and pick up my kids from school. They are always full of stories. Mia talks about her drawing class, and Jason tells me about the football match. They fight sometimes in the car, which makes driving stressful. But I smile and listen. I want them to feel heard.

Once we get home, the second shift begins. I check their homework, cook dinner, do the dishes, and fold the laundry. The house is always a mess no matter how much I clean. Toys on the floor, shoes in the hallway, crumbs on the couch — it never ends.

Dinner is loud. Jason talks with his mouth full, and Mia drops food on the floor. I tell them to be careful, but they giggle and ignore me. Sometimes, I want peace and quiet, but I also know that their laughter means they are happy.

After dinner, it’s bath time. This is another battle. Jason doesn’t want to bathe, and Mia wants to stay in the tub forever. I manage it somehow, even when I’m tired.

At 9 PM, I put them to bed. I read them a story, kiss their foreheads, and turn off the lights. I sit there for a moment, watching them sleep. Their peaceful faces remind me why I do it all.

Once they are asleep, I clean up the kitchen and prepare for the next day. I iron clothes, set alarms, and sometimes pay bills online. It’s already 11 PM by the time I sit down with a cup of tea. My back hurts, and my eyes feel heavy.

Sometimes I cry, not because I’m weak, but because I carry so much. I miss my old life when I had fewer responsibilities. I used to dance, sing, and draw. I used to laugh more. Now, it feels like every day is a race, and I’m always behind.

But there are moments that make it all worth it.

Like when Jason hugs me tightly and says, “You’re the best mom ever.” Or when Mia makes a drawing of our family and writes, “I love you, Mama” in big letters. These moments give me strength.

I remember one evening when I had the worst day. The car broke down, the doctor yelled at me, and the kids were both sick. I felt like I was falling apart. But Jason made me tea and said, “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll help you.” He’s only ten, but in that moment, he was my hero.

I also think of my mother. She raised four children on her own. She was always tired but always smiling. Now I understand how hard that was. She never complained. She was strong, like I try to be now.

Sometimes, I wonder if things will ever get easier. Will I always be this busy, this tired? Maybe not. Kids grow up. Jobs change. Life moves on.

But I’ve also learned something important, strength isn’t about having a perfect life. It’s about showing up every day, even when you’re tired, even when it’s hard.

People think a hectic life means something is wrong. But sometimes, a hectic life is a full life. It means you’re doing something meaningful, even if it’s messy and loud.

I dream of one day writing a book about all of this. Maybe other moms or busy people will read it and feel seen. Maybe they will laugh at the chaos, cry at the truth, and smile because they’re not alone.

So yes, my life is hectic. Very hectic. But it’s also full of love, laughter, lessons, and strength.

And that, I think, is a life worth living.