There’s a point in every mom’s week when you realize… it’s on. The chaos, the challenges, the sheer willpower it takes to keep everyone fed, dressed, and mostly alive—it’s the modern-day gladiator arena, and the gauntlet is officially down.
Forget book challenges or fitness challenges. I’m talking about mom challenges. The ones that sneak up on you between school drop-off and dinner time. The ones that test your patience, your reflexes, and your ability to function on caffeine and love alone.
You know the kind.
Like the Laundry Challenge. You start strong—three loads washed, folded, feeling unstoppable. Then you blink, and suddenly the hamper is overflowing again. How? Who wore all these clothes? Why are there socks in the fridge? I’ll never know. I’ve come to accept that laundry is a living thing. It regenerates.
Or the Dinner Gauntlet. Every night feels like a game show where the contestants are under five feet tall and extremely picky. “What’s for dinner?” they ask, like it’s the most important question of their lives. I could serve chicken nuggets shaped like their initials, and someone would still cry because “they taste different.” Rex just sits quietly, bless him, because he knows better than to comment when I’m plating macaroni like it’s fine dining.
Then there’s the Patience Challenge. This one’s daily, and it’s sneaky. It starts small—Nico asking where his shoes are when they’re literally in front of him. Anthony announcing he has to pee the second we buckle him into the car seat. By bedtime, I’m reciting “deep breaths” like a mantra. But then Nico hugs me goodnight, and Anthony whispers “you’re my favorite,” and just like that—I reset. Game over. They win. Every time.
Sometimes I think motherhood is just a series of mini-gauntlets. The “get everyone out the door on time” challenge. The “don’t lose your mind at homework time” challenge. The “pretend you didn’t see the glitter spill” challenge. I’ve passed some, failed others, but I’m still standing—so that counts as winning, right?
There’s one gauntlet that always makes me laugh: the Self-Care Challenge. Every mom I know talks about “me time” like it’s a mythical unicorn. I’ll tell myself, “Tonight I’m taking a bath.” Then I find myself sitting in lukewarm water, surrounded by plastic dinosaurs and a half-melted bath bomb from 2020, thinking, is this self-care or punishment?
Rex once challenged me to a “no phone after 9 p.m.” night. I lasted eight minutes before checking the baby monitor app. He smirked like he’d won, but who was the one who remembered to pack lunches for the next day? Exactly.
The truth is, moms live in a constant gauntlet—every single day. It’s messy and loud and sometimes feels impossible, but it’s also weirdly empowering. You start to realize how strong you actually are. How much you can juggle. How much love you can give, even when your energy tank is flashing “empty.”
And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The chaos, the laughter, the tiny victories—they’re what make life so full.
So the gauntlet is down. Challenge accepted. Whether it’s another week of school lunches, surviving a trip to Target with both kids, or finding five minutes to drink coffee while it’s still hot—I’m in.
I may not have a trophy shelf or a medal collection, but I do have two happy (and usually sticky) little boys, a husband who makes me laugh even when I’m tired, and a life that’s far from perfect but perfectly mine.
And that’s a win I’ll take every single time.