By Amy Rosoff Davis
When Glo asked me to write a Mother’s Day post, I was flooded with ideas. Motherhood is, without question, the wildest, most wonderful, hardest, and most fulfilling journey I’ve ever been on.
Where do I even begin?
I could talk about how pregnancy and postpartum have reshaped my relationship with my body. How I found a new respect for what it can do and a new rhythm with movement.
I could talk about multitasking and the invisible, ever-present mental load. Or the importance of community, because it really does take a village.
I could share tips, like how to hold your kids without throwing out your back (hint: support yourself from your core), or creative ways to fit in workouts. Or how to incorporate movement into family time so your kids grow up valuing it.
The list goes on and on.
But if I really met myself where I am right now, I wouldn’t write about any of those things.
As I type these words, I’m on week three (yes, three) of overlapping school closures for Spring Break. My parents, whom I adore and am incredibly close with, were just visiting for four months. And, as the cherry on top, we recently rescued a Sheepadoodle puppy who has grown to nearly fifty pounds and is still going.
So where would I begin?
Today, I would start by talking about overwhelm. About exhaustion. About frustration. About coming face-to-face with a version of yourself that is no longer who you used to be—at least not before you began caring for others and putting other people first.
Taking care of myself is something I normally take a lot of pride in. So much so that I built a career around it. I know rituals keep me grounded. I know that when I’m “pouring from a full cup,” I feel like my best self. But right now? If I pause and take stock of what’s actually happening for me (trainer, wellness lover, self-care enthusiast), it’s not a perfectly balanced routine or a beautifully curated wellness practice.
It’s fatigue.
Deep, undeniable fatigue from motherhood and the constant act of taking care of others.
I’m so tired that I want to scream or crawl into bed (preferably both). I want to watch Netflix, put on a face mask, call a girlfriend, get a massage, sleep for a week. Oh yeah, and move my body.
But good luck with that when the sink is overflowing with dishes, the house is full of people who need you, and your to-do list is multiplying by the minute.
How do I take care of myself now? How do I meet myself where I am?
This brings us back to the first question: Where do I begin?
Where do we begin?
Thankfully, I know what works.
I know that when I move my body, I feel incredible. I know that when I pause, either through meditating, writing, or going for a walk, I feel more like myself.
When I rest, I soften. When I create art, I feel inspired. When I call a friend, I light up.
And yet, in the middle of motherhood these things aren’t always as accessible as I want them to be.
I might talk a lot about balance, but I still find myself out of it. And that’s okay.
I don’t have the perfect answers. I, Amy Rosoff Davis, mother, wife, artist, lover of life, passionate, hardworking kid… am very much still figuring it all out.
What I teach on Glo are full-body, movement-based classes rooted in form and foundation. Because without a strong foundation well… good luck. You can build whatever kind of practice you want, but without that base, it’s all going to topple over eventually—like a stack of blocks.
And then, yes, there may be tears.
There are tears now, as I sit here at the end of week three of Spring Break.
But here’s the thing.
A) I love a good cry—the release, the reset, the dopamine hit. GIMMIE.
And B) it reminds me that I need to get up, step away from this computer, and move my body. To simply begin again.
Because I know, without fail, I will feel better afterward.
I’m not going to beat myself up for being off my routine. I’m not going to hold myself to an impossible standard. Instead, I’m trying to offer myself the same grace I offer everyone else I love. I am doing the best I can. And so are you.
To all the moms, caretakers, and humans in the thick of it: be kind to yourself. The same kindness you’re teaching your kids. When you falter, simply begin again.
Now go do whatever lights you up.
You deserve it. Your family deserves it.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you caretakers out there. You’re Amazing.
Ready to put this into practice? Explore Amy’s classes and programs, or our new Mother’s Day collection: For Mom, Love Glo.