Yesterday, I didn’t write. I was absolutely drained.

I can’t even explain why. It was one of those days where, instead of feeling energized after a long walk in nature with my baby daughter, I came back more exhausted than before. I made lunch, tackled the never-ending laundry (does it ever stop?), and thankfully, my husband was able to pick up our eldest from school, one less thing for me to do.

After we ate, our eldest went out to play with her friends, and the three of us—hubby, baby, and I—went for another walk. Normally, I love our evening walks. The fresh air, the golden light, the quiet moments together. But yesterday, by the time the sun was setting, I could barely function. It felt strange, almost unsettling, to be that tired.

Thankfully, my husband stepped in. He helped our eldest with her homework, took charge of the bedtime routines, and let me just be, something I didn’t realize I needed until that moment.

Today, I feel better. Still a slight headache lingering, but hopefully, it’ll be gone by the time I finish my coffee. And today, I am writing.