January, Honestly: When Motherhood, Business and Burnout Collide

January… honestly, what the hell.

I felt like I needed to write this, and I don’t fully know why. Sometimes getting everything out of your head and onto paper feels like lifting a huge weight.

Yesterday I cried like I haven’t cried in a long time. Proper, uncontrollable tears. And even then, I couldn’t quite explain why. Was it overwhelm? Exhaustion? The business? The kids? Probably all of it.

I had poured every bit of energy I had into making Harris’s birthday special. I wanted it to be perfect for him, and it felt like once the party was done, so was I. The next morning, from the moment he woke up, he was unhappy. Tantrums, tears, missing his daddy. Dan has been working a lot lately, and I took the emotional hit of that day.

It ended with me crying at the top of the stairs, unable to stop, while Harris was upset too, which completely broke my heart. Lately, I feel like I’ve been carrying a lot of the emotional weight. The kids are overwhelmed after Christmas, routines feel unsettled, and everything feels heightened. I’ve worked with children since I was 16, and I honestly thought I would have this part covered. But I don’t.

This morning, after the tears had settled, I finally gave myself space to think. And the truth is, January has been a lot.

Illness after illness. Washing mountains of bedding from tummy bugs. Feeling like I was drowning in laundry. Trying to cook “healthy” meals to help everyone recover, while also somehow remembering to drink water, move my body, and look after myself. Taking on supply work, then having to cancel because of illness, once again feeling like the unreliable person I never wanted to be. And, just to top it off, my legs decided to come out in hives.

One of the reasons I chose to leave my job was so I’d never have to choose between work and my children again. Yet there I was, making that choice all over again.

And then there’s the business.

I think I naively believed that the partnership with The Mum Club would suddenly blow everything wide open. But it’s January, and these things take time. The feedback has been incredible, yet sales were down. I found myself spiralling. Had people forgotten about my business? Why wasn’t anyone ordering?

This year feels different because it is different. I don’t have a wage to fall back on anymore. That has meant Dan working more hours to carry us and the business through this stage. More time away from the kids. More missing him. More emotional backlash landing on me.

I also discovered insurances I didn’t realise I needed. Unexpected bills. Losing money switching providers just after Christmas. And with growth comes more overheads, more responsibility, more pressure. The thought of owing people has been quietly eating away at me.

By yesterday, I realised something else too. I’d lost my strategy. I wasn’t posting productively, I was posting emotionally. I wasn’t showing the business in its best light. I couldn’t run ads because there was no spare money. And the drive I had this time last year felt like it had disappeared.

On top of that, I constantly beat myself up about the life I feel I need to live. My children are only this small once. I feel like I need to run like I’m on fire because I only get one chance. The pressure of trying to plan the best possible future drains me so much that I’m often too tired to enjoy the present.

Last year, I had big, clear goals. I knew what I wanted from 2025. I knew I’d leave my job. I knew I’d be featured in a magazine, even if I didn’t know which one and then Brood came along. I knew I’d hit my first £3k and £5k months, which I did. I knew I wanted to be part of The Mum Club, and I achieved that too. I was flying.

This year feels quieter. Unclear. And for a while, that scared me.

But this morning, something shifted.

I realised that maybe my goals don’t need to look impressive from the outside anymore. They don’t need to be loud.

My goals are behind the scenes.

Developing wholesale.
Making our packaging more professional.
Setting up systems and structure, the boring but essential stuff.
Running adverts consistently.
Pulling back from the pressure to be “on” social media all the time.
Creating more professional content.
Being more present with my family.
Finally writing my Ellor Explorers book and creating play ideas that genuinely help parents.

Those are my goals. And that is enough.

Sharing this feels a bit silly, but if you’re a parent, a business owner, or both, and January has knocked you sideways, please know this. You are not alone.

After a lot of tears, I know I can’t keep living at this pace. Juggling everything at 100mph isn’t sustainable. Something has to change.

Since becoming a mum, I’ve lost the part of me that looks after me. I don’t even fully know how to do that anymore, but I’m going to try. I want to find small pockets of time that allow me to switch off. One big change is stepping back from my phone. Social media is an incredible tool for business, but it can also become overwhelming. I need boundaries. I need focus.

Something has to change.
And it starts now.

For now, I’m choosing slower mornings where I can, clearer boundaries, and a gentler way of building both a business and a life. If this resonates, I’m glad you’re here.