Mothering While Falling Apart
On carrying invisible weights into the kitchen at 5 p.m.—and why dinner still matters.
Editor’s note: This week’s musing gets personal. It includes mention of alcohol and cancer. If you need to skip, please do. Recipes are just below. ❤️
For the overstimulated mom
If you don’t have the bandwidth for a long read today, here’s the quick version:
I’ve been struggling lately, leaning on wine more than I want to.
October + my yearly MRI are big cancer triggers for me.
Struggling is relative—we’re all carrying something into the kitchen at 5 p.m.
Even on the hard nights, feeding our people (however imperfectly) is still love.
Recipes start just below if that’s all you’ve got space for this week.
I’m going to admit something I’ve never shared outside of my therapist and my husband: I sometimes abuse alcohol when I feel stressed and overwhelmed.
This past year has taught me something surprising—that I thrive on structure. I’m the best version of myself when I’m training for a race (trust me, no one is more shocked by this than I am). When I had my training plan taped to the fridge, every day had a rhythm, every mile had a purpose. But since finishing my first marathon in April, with the next one not until 2026, I’ve felt… unmoored. Without a finish line to aim for, I drift. And when I drift, old habits creep back in.
Here’s the truth: when I’m in a good space, alcohol is just a treat. A glass of wine or two, maybe a cocktail on the weekend. But when I’m anxious or overstimulated, it’s the one thing that always works to quiet my racing mind. That’s when a glass turns into the whole bottle.
October is on the horizon, and while it used to be my absolute favorite month (and honestly, it still mostly is), it’s also Breast Cancer Awareness Month. That means pink ribbons in every store and emails from brands asking me to share my story. The work matters, but it’s a sucker punch every time the word cancer lands in my inbox.
And then there’s my upcoming MRI in November. Every year, that scan feels like my one-year permission slip to live. If it comes back clear, I get twelve more months of exhaling, of moving forward, of letting myself believe I’m okay. But as the date creeps closer, the clock in my head gets louder, and I feel myself holding my breath again—waiting to find out if I’ll be granted another year.
Because of my OCD, my brain tells me that if I stray even a little from my “this will keep you absolutely safe” dietary script—if I drink even one glass of wine—that’s the reason my cancer will come back and kill me. So. Much. Fun. You might be thinking: girl… then stop drinking! But I don’t want to stop completely, and that’s the truth. I enjoy it.
What I want is to stop swinging between two extremes: enjoying a glass or two of wine when I feel safe in my body (which, ironically, is usually only after I’ve punished it in a “healthier” way by running obscene distances, like 15 miles on a Sunday)… to drinking the whole bottle because my brain got hijacked by an email, a headline, or a pink ribbon at the grocery store.
I’m not sharing this to trauma dump. I’m sharing it because I know I’m not the only one. I know there are women here who are mothering while their marriages are on the brink, while they’re waiting for answers about whether their child might be on the autism spectrum and what that could mean, while they’re grieving another miscarriage or staring down another negative pregnancy test when they wanted so badly for it to be positive.
I know what it is to need to cope and mother at the same time—and that sometimes the thing we reach for in order to survive isn’t the best thing for us.
Struggling is relative. Maybe alcohol isn’t your thing. Maybe it’s sugar, or spending, or scrolling. Maybe it’s snapping at your partner when you’re tapped out. Every one of us is carrying something invisible into the kitchen at 5 p.m.—and still trying to get dinner on the table anyway.
And that’s why I keep writing these menus each week. Because even on the nights when we’re struggling, feeding ourselves and our people—however imperfectly—is still an act of survival, resilience, and love.
So with that, here’s what I’m leaning on for dinner this week:
Week 8: Bright Flavors, Cozy Plates
This week’s menu leans into balance: bold, fresh flavors that keep things exciting, paired with cozy comfort that still feels light enough for late summer. Think Southern classics reimagined, taco night with a sweet-spicy twist, and one-pan dinners that taste restaurant-worthy without the fuss. It’s a lineup designed to feel abundant but never overwhelming—meals that meet you where you are, whether you need bright and fresh or warm and grounding.
Monday: Baked Catfish with Jiffy Hushpuppy Cornbread, Tangy Slaw & Green Salad
A lighter spin on the Southern classic—cornmeal-crusted catfish bakes until golden, paired with hushpuppy-inspired cornbread, a bright pickle-studded slaw, and a crisp green salad. It’s comfort food that won’t weigh you down.
Tuesday: Spicy Pork & Pineapple Tacos
All the craveable sweet-spicy flavors of al pastor, simplified for weeknights. Ground pork gets a quick marinade, fresh pineapple salsa keeps it bright, and everything piles into warm tortillas for taco night with a twist.
Wednesday: Sheet Pan Miso-Maple Glazed Cod with Bok Choy & Mushrooms
Sweet, salty, and deeply savory—a miso-maple glaze turns cod into a weeknight showstopper while bok choy and mushrooms roast alongside. Served over rice, it’s a one-pan dinner that feels restaurant-worthy.
Thursday: One-Pot Caprese Fusilli with Portobellos
All the flavors of caprese salad—juicy tomatoes, fresh basil, creamy burrata—turned into a cozy one-pot pasta. Portobellos add meaty bite, anchovy and garlic deepen the flavor, and the balsamic drizzle ties it all together.
Friday: One-Pan Greek Chicken Bowls with Tzatziki & Roasted Veggies
Juicy marinated chicken and colorful veggies roast together while you stir together a quick tzatziki. Served over rice with feta and herbs, it’s fresh, satisfying, and better than takeout.
Each recipe is easy to tweak for picky eaters:
For the catfish, bake one fillet plain (or with the seasonings called for in the recipe minus the cornmeal) with just olive oil and salt, and serve it alongside cornbread with honey and a small scoop of slaw or plain carrots.
For the tacos, keep some pork aside before adding spices or salsa and serve with cheese and avocado in a plain tortilla.
For the miso-maple cod, roast one fillet simply with olive oil and salt, and swap bok choy/mushrooms for broccoli or green beans if that’s a better fit.
For the caprese fusilli, set aside some plain pasta with butter and Parmesan before adding tomatoes and mushrooms.
For the Greek chicken bowls, reserve a little chicken and rice to serve simply with cucumber slices, skipping the tzatziki or feta if needed.
That way you’re cooking once, but everyone eats happily.
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