Does family life ever feel hard — like the weekends disappear before you’ve caught up on the house, made plans, or spent any real time together as a family?
This is how I feel a lot of the time.
We have two school-aged teenagers, both on the autism spectrum, and while that can add complexity, I think many families – neurotypical or not – will recognise the feeling.
Life is full. I work a Monday to Friday, 8am to 5pm job, thankfully only five minutes from home. But weekends are often taken up with the practical things that keep everything running – mowing the lawn that seems to grow overnight in summer, tending the garden, clearing palm fronds, keeping up with washing, and preparing food for the week ahead.
I enjoy cooking, so that often means baking biscuits or cakes – which don’t last long with growing teenagers – and thinking through meals that everyone will actually eat. I try not to turn dinner into a café-style operation with two or three different meals, but that still takes planning. Writing a grocery list, sticking to a familiar range of “safe” meals, and making sure we have what we need can take more energy than it seems.
By the end of the day, after cooking dinner and loading the dishwasher – partly to clean up, partly to create a bit of clear bench space so the kitchen feels calmer – I sit down hoping to catch up with my wife. The kids are usually on their laptops gaming, or scrolling Pinterest for their next craft idea. I might turn the TV on, but before long my head starts nodding.
None of this is dramatic. It’s just full. Even the simple parts of life can feel heavy.
What I’ve noticed, though, is that when I take the time on the weekend to plan a simple grocery list and decide on a small, reliable set of meals, the week feels easier. Not perfect – just easier. Without that planning, I’d finish work each afternoon already overwhelmed, asking myself, “What am I cooking tonight?” I’d love to cook a wider variety of meals all the time, but right now I focus on making sure there are healthy, filling options we know work, and then trying something new occasionally when the energy is there.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s okay. Knowing I can put a home-cooked meal on the table gives me a quiet sense of fulfilment. It’s one small thing I can do that feels grounding, even when everything else feels busy or unfinished. This is what we’re learning in our family – slowly, imperfectly. I’m sharing it here in case it helps someone else feel a little less alone.
Grounded Family Life is a place for working parents navigating the full, complicated middle years of family life.