The Coles Order Wasn't the Problem

Last night I went to bed frustrated.

Not because anything terrible had happened.

Because I'd started five things and somehow finished none of them.

I even managed to forget the one thing I actually went to the shops for.

Eggs. For my son's birthday cake.

So back to the shops I went.

"Maybe if I just get through today's list, everything will feel okay again."

From that moment on, I switched into what I call GSD mode.

Move faster. Think faster. Do more. Fix it. Control it.

Then today happened.

My youngest turned two. He wanted birthday cake. Then decided he didn't.

His older brother wanted the present more than he did. So our family birthday photo became one smiling child and one screaming child.

Then work started.

One client needed me. My coaching software kept deleting workouts. Outlook decided moving to Google Workspace wasn't going to be straightforward. The printer ink we'd ordered wasn't compatible with the printer. (Yes, somehow HP ink didn't fit the HP printer.)

The grocery delivery arrived. Wrong nappies. Wrong meat. So now dinner needed rethinking too.

Somewhere in between, I was organising our next move. Planning our next overseas trip to Europe. Chasing a website refund. Emailing our landlord.

And at 8pm I suddenly remembered the cleaners were coming tomorrow. Except we're not even home.

None of these things, on their own, were a big deal. But together, they quietly filled every bit of mental space I had. Until there was nothing left.

Then I snapped.

Not because of the groceries. Not because of the printer ink. Not because dinner changed.

I became impatient. Short with my husband. Snappy with my kids. And angry at myself.

Angry that I couldn't seem to keep on top of everything.

Looking back, I realised I wasn't trying to get through the list. I was trying to get back to the feeling of being in control.

Motherhood is physically hard. But that's not what surprised me.

Of course motherhood is physical. You bend down a hundred times a day. You carry children. You lift prams. You survive broken sleep. Your body works harder than it ever has before.

I expected that.

What surprised me was the mental load.

Not because of one huge challenge. Because it's hundreds of tiny decisions. Every single day.

There are always decisions.

Always another email. Always another little person needing you. Always something else to remember. Always a plan that changes.

And here's what I realised. As ambitious women, our instinct is to respond by becoming even better planners. More lists. More systems. More colour-coded calendars.

That works brilliantly in business.

It doesn't always work in motherhood.

The shift.

The women who move through motherhood with confidence aren't the ones with the best checklists.

"They're the ones with the capacity to adapt."

To let go of perfect. To make a different dinner. To laugh when the birthday photo isn't Instagram-worthy. To trust themselves when the plan changes.

That's the preparation nobody talks about.

It's one of the biggest lessons of matrescence - the transition into becoming a mother. It's not simply about caring for a baby. It's about learning to think differently, respond differently and slowly become a different version of yourself.

Why this matters before birth.

This is exactly why I coach the way I do.

Everything starts with the body. Because that's where capacity starts.

Strength gives you confidence. Confidence gives you capacity.

But nothing ends there.

We're also preparing for the hundreds of tiny moments no birth class can teach you. The changed plans. The interrupted sleep. The unexpected decisions. The moments where life doesn't go to plan and you discover who you become in the middle of it.

Motherhood isn't asking you to control every moment. It's asking you to trust yourself when you can't.

And that might be the most important preparation of all.