The Majority of Parents Are Just ‘Getting Through the Day' Instead of Enjoying It
Last night I attempted (rather unsuccessfully) to sleep through the sound of my son's incessant coughing from his bedroom. (Far too) soon, I woke up to a hungry baby, and one daughter who needed help getting ready for dance camp, while another wanted a ride to the gym. It was all in a matter of 10 minutes.
Upon returning from the urgent gym run, I could no longer put off a growing list of doctor and dentist appointments to schedule. At the same time, emails are flooding my inbox about summer math modules, practice schedule changes, and fees for upcoming clinics.
The day ahead is packed with carpools, errands, feedings, and meals to plan and prepare. All I can think is, 'Just let me get through this day.'
This is why I completely relate to the sentiments in a new report from Duckbill and The Harris Poll. They surveyed American parents and found that most of us (65%) are 'just getting through the day' rather than enjoying it. Interestingly, while married parents who make more than $100,000 are slightly less burdened by the tasks of modern life, half still report that they are just doing their best to get through the day too.
As a mom of six, days like the one I mentioned are not the exception. They are the rule. I rush around trying to make life happen for my family. I'm constantly pulled away from conversations and thoughts by requests to find a Lego and questions like, 'What can I do?' or 'What can I eat?'
Through it all, I'm also responsible for uplifting six people with problems ranging from getting a boo-boo to getting their heart broken. It's exhausting and leaves little time to focus on myself.
Not all is lost, however. Given that this study and others are finally shining a light on parents' mental load, a major benefit has emerged: We are also being encouraged to start thinking about ways to refocus our attention on joy.
Here's what I try and focus on—even when it feels impossible on some days.
For me, seeing how quickly my kids are growing up gives me an immense sense of appreciation for just how fleeting this time with them really is.
My oldest is about to head off to college—although I swear it was only a few years ago she was a little girl dressing up in Disney princess dresses and asking for string cheese. I also have younger children, with my littlest being just 5 months old.
The kids' big age gap puts a lot in perspective, and I am able to actually enjoy their challenging stages, rather than just wishing they would move on from teething, tantrums, or middle school. It'll be over way too soon, I now realize.
My experience has also allowed me—at times—to resist the instinct to simply survive, and rather, be more present in the good and bad moments that inevitably characterize each day as a parent.
I'll often force myself to stop worrying about what I have to do later or tomorrow, and center on what is happening right now, be it that my baby just giggled for the first time, or that my 4-year-old is upset over having to be in the car for longer than 15 minutes.
Being in the moment doesn't always provide the greatest sense of joy, but it does lessen my anxiety about what's next, or what's not done yet.
According to the new data, women are most likely to suffer from guilt and the overwhelming sense that even if they have a spare moment, they should be doing something else. We are also the least likely to ask for help—and even struggle with the misguided belief that our needs are not as important as those of others.
But I have learned to claim one thing I love, just for me, each day: yoga.
Sometimes I get 45 minutes by myself at the gym to immerse myself in a really amazing practice. Other days, I fight to complete a 15-minute YouTube class at home amidst a whining baby and A Minecraft Movie blasting on the TV, leaving my boys laughing uproariously, although they've already watched the "Steve's Lava Chicken" part 1,000 times.
My advice to any parent who is struggling is to find that one thing that you love and stake your claim on it. Maybe working out is your one non-negotiable, or perhaps it's getting time to call your sister. You might be determined to blow dry your hair in the morning to feel like yourself, or get away to meet a friend for lunch.
Whatever your thing is, make it happen, hopefully with the support of a partner or loved one.
When it comes to challenging situations with my kids, which take place on multiple occasions throughout the day, I find it helps to just be real about how I'm feeling.
I might confess to my kids that, "Mommy is overwhelmed and needs a minute." Or, I'll vent to my husband—or ask him to step in.
A few close friends can totally relate, so staying connected to them is a huge boon.
Finally, a mantra I have learned to live by is that it's better to be laughing than crying.
Picture this: my baby is suffering from a diaper blowout at the same time my preschooler is screaming about his shirt being on backwards, while my 7-year-old is demanding to watch a show after I told him 100 times his screen time is over for the day.
Sure, my inclination may be to burst into tears, but I'll do my best to find humor in the circumstance instead. Anyone else want to torture me with an outburst at this very moment? Ha!
Ultimately, we should absolutely be aiming higher than just trying to survive until bedtime. The goal of finding joy amid the chaos could not be more important, both because a grumpy, frazzled parent sets a poor example for our kids, and because parents deserve to be happy, too, even if it's for 15 minutes.
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I'm giving every molecule of myself at this crappy, underrated job to help other people, which is so draining. The least I deserve is to rest and relax after work. It could be excruciating being a primary care doctor.' He felt justified: 'I work so hard to help other people, so therefore, I deserve to do this thing that I've discovered to get rid of all my stress,' he says. 'It was not a good conclusion.' Letting Go Without Falling Apart 'Many times, physicians don't take instructions well,' says Bala Subramaniam, MD, professor of anesthesiology at Harvard Medical School. 'We think we know it all.' Subramaniam suffered a heart attack in 2021. But he was prepared in an unusual way. For nearly a decade, he'd dedicated 2-3 hours a day to yoga and meditation, cultivating what he calls 'stillness and enhanced awareness.' When the heart attack came, it didn't bring panic or fear. 'I was surprised that there was zero fear. The chest pain came with no suffering, just pure awareness,' he says. His mind remained calm as he told his doctor, 'I feel my lungs are flooding. Could you please give me some Lasix?' His presence of mind didn't come from trying to control the doctors around him but from mastering what was happening inside himself. That distinction — between controlling others and participating in your own care — is what made the difference for Diamond. His experience, he says, was overwhelmingly positive, and not because he called the shots. 'It just reinforced my personal philosophy and approach to medicine,' he says. 'Because I had really good doctors who practice medicine the way I practice medicine, which is they listen.' Diamond embraced a collaborative role. 'If there was a choice to be made and it wasn't really clear which way to go, we would engage in a little discussion and they would try to get my opinion, and sometimes I made the decision. Sometimes I was like, 'I'm not sure, you decide,' in which case they decided.' He didn't need to dominate the process. He just needed to be part of it. 'I was happy for the treating physicians to make the big choices because I figured they knew best, right? And I didn't become the world's expert on my disease or its treatment. I mean, I knew what was going on, but it's not like I was researching things and saying, 'Did you read the article in Science that says this is better or that's better?' I didn't do that. I was happy to be supported by the system.' Now retired, Diamond thinks his experience would've helped him if he'd returned to the clinic. 'I think I would've been perceived a little differently, certainly by people facing cancer,' he says. 'Maybe my story and my survival would in some ways have been more encouraging.' That kind of personal experience, says Tran, can be meaningful. 'Understanding the patient's experience as fully as we can, with compassion, empathy, and connectedness, is fundamental to be an effective physician who practices patient-centered and individualized medicine.' When Control Isn't Comforting When Sullivan landed in the hospital with AFib, she had to confront something new: helplessness. 'When you're in AFib, you can feel it,' she says. 'I'm not somebody who likes to really ever admit that there's something wrong.' Her husband told her what any well-meaning spouse might. 'Mish, I'll let you know if it changes. Just try to sleep, try to rest.' She tried, but it didn't sit right. Then, in the middle of the night, something shifted. 'They had planned for a cardioversion the next morning,' she says. 'I woke up and I looked at Bill and I said, 'I'm in sinus.' And he goes, 'How do you know?' I just knew. The palpitations were gone. I beat the cardioversion.' Her echo looked great, and the diagnosis never fully clarified her heart issue. 'It was a one and done.' If that was a moment of grace, Grinspoon's wake-up call came with handcuffs. In 2005, the state police and drug enforcement administration (DEA) showed up at his Boston office. He was charged with three felony counts of illegally prescribing a controlled substance and sentenced to 90 days in rehab. 'I'm an atheist Jew from the Northeast who got forced by the medical board to go to this very Christian rehab in Virginia,' Grinspoon says, calling it 'not the most scientifically based experience of my life.' He couldn't believe the rigidity. 'You literally just have to do what you're told. You just have to surrender. There's no advocacy as a physician who's in trouble.' The result was three and a half years without a medical license. Now, his license has been back for 15 years, and he's been in recovery for 20 years. Looking back, Grinspoon sees a system designed more for punishment than healing. 'If we were just more supportive and less punitive, we could help people earlier along in their addiction, so it doesn't only become a problem when a surgeon shows up drunk in the OR or a primary care doctor gets raided by the DEA.' He now attends physician-specific support groups. 'We talk about our frustrations and how you have to sort of let go and ask for help, and how being the doctor in charge of everything is part of how we got into this problem in the first place.' Learning to Let Go, on Your Own Terms For doctors who become patients, healing often starts with autonomy. Grinspoon urges physicians to seek help quietly and deliberately. 'It's about getting treated on your terms,' he says. 'So go to a private addiction specialist and do what you have to do to clean up.' If you become a patient, Sullivan advocates researching doctors. 'There are enough docs out there who I wouldn't want touching my family.' Control, she's learned, is not something to abandon lightly, it just has to be redefined. Subramaniam, the Harvard anesthesiologist, believes the medical community needs to evolve altogether. 'We truly don't understand the psychological component of all illnesses,' he says. 'We may intellectually understand that psychological component, but we don't truly know it.' He's not talking about patient care alone. He's talking about doctors, too — how they break, how they heal, and what keeps them going. For Diamond, writing became his lifeline. During his cancer treatment, he began updating a private CaringBridge blog. 'At first it was matter-of-fact reporting,' he says. 'But then I started slipping into metaphor and prose and soft reflections. People appreciated my honesty and my writing.…That gave me strength.' He believes others could benefit from the same. 'Writing down their thoughts and feelings is a good way not only to hear themselves but to share what they're going through in a way they couldn't really in conversation.' Tran, who launched a storytelling series at Massachusetts General Hospital, says 'The process of recollecting and retelling is extremely therapeutic for the storyteller and for those who hear it. They discover truths about themselves and their lives.' In fact, she adds, 'The most impactful and effective way to become a better physician is to become a more grounded human….Embracing our 'human' side is what makes us better physicians.' Even now, Sullivan says she's still working on it. 'I get a lot of inspiration from my husband. He's an ER doc and also an attorney, so he's a pretty bright guy.' But when he was diagnosed recently with thyroid cancer, something surprised her. 'For how in control he is for most of his life, he readily allows others to step in when he becomes the patient, and he trusts them — including me — which is something, right?' She pauses, thinks about that for a moment. 'I really want to get there.' Are you a doctor with a dramatic story about life as a patient? Medscape would love to consider your story for Dr. Patient. Please email your contact information and a short summary to access@ . Read more in the series: A Doctor's Tumor Rupture Upends All She Thought She Knew Lead image: Medscape Composite: Dreamstime Image 1: Medscape Composite: Getty Images Image 2: Michael and Michelle Sullivan Image 4: David V. Diamond
