One Gentle Reset

We’ve had just one day of Ishu’s summer activities, and somehow, the grown-ups are the most tired from it. It’s only two half-hour classes, but the running around and waiting left us totally drained by the end of the day. Ha.

We’re going to try a small tweak—squishing the two classes closer together—so the second half of the day is more open for backyard play, library visits, or whatever else feels fun and unhurried.

We’ll figure it out.

But I have this really unhelpful habit: when something doesn’t go quite right, I spiral into a harsh internal monologue that sounds like, “You should have KNOWN better. You SHOULD HAVE prioritized this. Why didn’t you say that instead?!”

Instead of just noticing that something isn’t working—and making a small adjustment—I jump to self-blame and guilt.

This isn’t a one-time thing. I do it a lot.

When I think back to a morning that fell apart and I didn’t act my best.

When I notice the ways I’ve let myself go or stopped taking care of myself.

Instead of meeting those moments with compassion or curiosity, I meet them with shame and self-judgment.

The other day, I watched a mom talk about how phones and YouTube videos had slowly crept into her family’s bedtime routine. What started as a quick goodnight song turned into her 3-year-old scrolling for the “perfect” video—leading to 20 minutes of screen time before bed.

It was fine… until it wasn’t.

And when she realized it didn’t feel good anymore, she brought it up at dinner and said, “No more phones in the bedroom.” That was it. A simple shift.

She didn’t beat herself up. She didn’t spiral into guilt. She just noticed it wasn’t working and changed course.

I listened and thought: Wait, that’s it? No shaming yourself? No mental punishment for how it got to this point? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN FEEL LIKE AND HOW DO I GET THERE?

Because for me, something like that would eat away for days. The shame would take over. The self-talk would get mean.

But I know, logically, that shame doesn’t actually help us grow. It doesn’t move us forward. It just slows us down and makes everything feel heavier.

And yet—I’m still unlearning those patterns.

I’m a work in progress, and this is one of the big things I want to work on.

When something doesn’t work, it doesn’t have to mean I’ve failed. It can simply mean… something needs to shift.

So, today: dentist, karate, a visit to the Chino Hills fam—and a little extra self-kindness along the way.

I’m learning that it’s okay to make changes without making it mean something terrible about who I am.

It’s okay to grow without tearing myself apart first.

I’m trying to meet myself where I am—with honesty, yes, but also with softness. Because if I want to teach my kids how to be kind to themselves when things don’t go as planned, I have to start by modeling it for myself.

One deep breath, one messy day, one gentle reset at a time.