The Monotony of Motherhood (And Why Taking Breaks Isn’t Lazy)

Lessons from a 3-Year-Old Tunnel Builder

I used to think being a mom meant I would suddenly be full of wisdom and confidence. Like I’d gently pass down life lessons until my kids surpassed me and I could say, “Yes. I did it.”

Instead?

Being a mom mostly means realizing I know absolutely nothing and learning as I go.

But today isn’t about that existential spiral.

Today is about something my three-year-old taught me about why moms need breaks — even, and ESPECIALLY from the never-ending dishes and laundry.

We’re driving down the road, and as she often does, she starts telling me the most random, wild thing in the most matter-of-fact tone.

“Mom, when I grow up and get a job, I want to be a construction worker. Then a doctor. Then a tunnel builder.”

“Okay,” I said. “What will you do after tunnel building?”

“Nothing, because that will be my favorite.”

She then launched into a very detailed explanation about how even her husband and kids would dig tunnels with her, and they would dig tunnels all day, every day, until it was time to come home for dinner.

Naturally, I asked:

“Do you think you’ll get bored digging tunnels all day, every day?”

She looked at me like I had deeply misunderstood life.

“No. I’ll bring my coloring book. When I get bored, I’ll take a break and color. Then I’ll go back to digging.”

Oh.

Right.

Even her dream job includes breaks.

Duh.

Why didn’t I think of that?

But really—OSHA knows it. HR knows it. My 3-year-old knew it.

Taking breaks is the only possible way through monotony.

Even when the monotony is part of your favorite thing.

And I hope you know I’m not actually talking about digging tunnels.

I’m talking about motherhood.

Specifically the monotonous, mundane parts of motherhood.

The dishes

The laundry.

The tidying.

The grocery shopping.

The cooking.

The chauffeuring.

The sweeping up the same crumbs you swept up yesterday.

Yes, there is a lot to do.

But would it kill us to take a break?

(And no… doom scrolling does not count as a break.)

Just like the tunnel will still be there for my daughter to dig, the dishes will still be there for you to do.

But you’ll come back to them with more energy, more patience, and a little less resentment.

Now let me be very clear:

I am not good at this.

I tend to believe the only way through is to do everything until it’s done. That if I stop, catastrophe will strike.

Except… it won’t.

For three weeks last month, everyone in my house — except me, miracle of miracles — had the flu.

The sink filled.The counters disappeared.The laundry situation got… creative.

Cereal, PBJs, and chicken nuggets carried us through.

And you know what?

No one died.

The world did not collapse because I stopped doing everything so I could snuggle and wipe the sniffles.

Was catching up fun? No. Was it survivable? Yes.

That week proved something I didn’t want to believe:

The house can wait.The tunnel will still be there.

If I can step away from everything for a week and the world doesn’t end…

Then I can definitely take a break for 5 minutes.

Or 15.

Or even (dare I say) an hour (*GASP*).

Because the dishes will still be there.

The laundry will still be there.

The tunnel will still be there.

And I’ll be a better mom when I come back to it.

Because it turns out my 3-year-old was right.

Even if you love what you’re building…

You still need to step away sometimes.

So go take a break.

Color for five minutes. Sit in silence. Eat chocolate in your pantry.

Whatever it looks like for you.

The tunnel can wait.

Oh, and have a gold star for taking the break. ⭐