Why Traditional Productivity Doesn’t Work for Caregivers
I used to love productivity books.
You know the kind: color-coded calendars, early wake-up routines, “10x your output” promises. I highlighted pages, made vision boards, and believed that with the right to-do list, I could control everything — energy, ambition, even the chaos of new motherhood.
Then I had a baby.
And nothing went according to plan.
Suddenly, the systems that once made me feel accomplished started making me feel… inadequate. I wasn’t waking up early. I wasn’t hitting big goals. I was just trying to sleep, soothe, survive.
No book had prepared me for the emotional labor of being everything for someone else, 24/7.
And yet, I felt guilty for not doing more — for not being “productive.”
The Problem With How We Define “Success”
Let’s face it: the modern idea of productivity is built around uninterrupted time, linear progress, and visible outcomes.
It assumes:
- You can control your schedule
- You have consistent energy
- You can focus on one thing at a time
- Your output is easily measured
But caregiving — especially motherhood — breaks all of those assumptions.
Our days are full of invisible tasks:
Feeding, changing, wiping tears, calming meltdowns, remembering appointments, cleaning up for the fifth time before noon. Tasks that don’t show up on resumes or Instagram highlight reels. Tasks that matter deeply — but don’t “count” in traditional systems of success.
So we start to feel like we’re failing.
Not because we are, but because we’re measuring our worth with the wrong ruler.
Enter: Mom Guilt
“Mom guilt” is the heavy, quiet voice that says:
- “You’re not doing enough.”
- “You should be more present.”
- “You’re not working hard enough at home or at work.”
- “Other moms seem to be handling this better.”
It sneaks in during nap time, when we try to do something just for ourselves.
It hovers when we leave for work, or don’t leave for work.
It multiplies when we compare ourselves to curated online images of motherhood.
I thought guilt would go away if I just tried harder. But guilt isn’t a signal that we’re lazy — it’s a sign that the system we’re operating in is broken.
Why the Old Models Don’t Fit
So many of us are still trying to follow a model of success that was designed for a completely different season of life — one where our bodies, brains, and bandwidth weren’t constantly stretched by caregiving.
We hear advice like:
- “Batch your tasks!” (What if I can’t finish one task before I’m interrupted five times?)
- “Wake up at 5am!” (What if the baby woke me at 4?)
- “Just prioritize better!” (As if I haven’t already said no to everything that doesn’t scream.)
These tips don’t fail because we’re not trying.
They fail because they weren’t made for the realities of caregiving.
A New Question: What Does Success Look Like Now?
It took me a long time to realize I needed a new framework — one rooted in:
- Sustainability
- Seasonality
- Self-compassion
Instead of measuring success by how much I got done in a day, I started asking:
🌱 “Did I move one thing forward?”
🌱 “Did I choose presence when it mattered?”
🌱 “Did I treat myself with kindness, even if the day fell apart?”
I began to celebrate micro-milestones: small, meaningful steps that honored the season I was in.
Because caregiving isn’t a pause in your life. It is life.
And progress in this season deserves to be honored — even if it looks different.
Redefining Success — One Tiny Step at a Time
There was a moment — in the thick of toddler tantrums and back-to-back night wakings — when I looked at my untouched planner and thought:
“I didn’t do anything today.”
But then I paused.
Actually…
I had calmed a meltdown without yelling.
I had managed to clean one corner of the living room.
I had sent a single email that had taken three tries because someone kept climbing into my lap.
And I’d kept a tiny human alive, again.
That wasn’t nothing.
So I asked myself a new question:
“What if I’m just using the wrong measuring stick?”
Rewriting the To-Do List
Before motherhood, my to-do list was packed:
- Launch project
- Write 1,000 words
- Schedule meetings
- Organize closets
- Post on social media
- Workout 30 mins
After motherhood, I stared at that list and laughed (and sometimes cried).
So I rewrote it:
Old list:
❌ Finish website update
❌ Write article draft
❌ Organize files
New list:
✅ Reply to one email
✅ Draft one paragraph
✅ Take a 10-minute walk
✅ Prep tomorrow’s snacks
✅ Read to my child for 10 minutes
✅ Sit down and breathe for 2 minutes
Suddenly, I was winning.
Because I’d stopped writing a list for a person who doesn’t exist anymore — the pre-motherhood me with uninterrupted time and energy. Instead, I was honoring the person I am now.
Why Micro-Milestones Matter
Here’s the thing:
Tiny wins are not just cute. They’re neuroscience-backed.
Psychologist B.J. Fogg (Stanford University) calls this the “tiny habits” effect — the idea that small, achievable actions build long-term momentum and confidence. It’s not about motivation; it’s about designing for success in context.
In caregiving seasons, your context is unpredictable, messy, and emotionally heavy. Big goals will get crushed under pressure.
But micro-milestones?
They can fit into the crevices of your day:
- A voice memo recorded while folding laundry
- Two sentences added to a draft during a nap
- Sending one freelance pitch every Monday morning
- Doing five minutes of yoga with a toddler climbing on your back
These steps are small — but they’re yours.
They add up. And more importantly, they keep you in the picture.
The Psychology of “Enough”
I used to chase the feeling of “done.” The checked boxes. The inbox zero.
But caregiving doesn’t end at 5 PM. The mental load comes home with you, sleeps beside you, wakes up before you.
So I had to redefine what “enough” felt like.
Now I ask:
💭 “Did I move something forward?”
💭 “Did I choose presence over perfection?”
💭 “Did I show up with kindness — for my kids, and for myself?”
Some days, enough is a shower and scrambled eggs.
Other days, it’s finishing a blog post while nursing.
Both are valid. Both are worthy.
Examples from My Own Days
Here’s how micro-milestones look in my real life as a Japan-based mom and freelancer:
A “productive” day might look like:
- Waking up early and journaling for 10 minutes
- Prepping lunches while listening to a podcast
- Sending one client follow-up email
- Writing 200 words during nap time
- Getting outside for a stroller walk
A “bare minimum” day might look like:
- Answering a WhatsApp message
- Wiping kitchen counters
- Letting go of the to-do list without guilt
- Rewatching Bluey and breathing together
Both days include effort. Both days deserve applause.
Giving Ourselves Credit
One thing I realized: no one was going to applaud the quiet, daily work of caregiving if I didn’t.
So I started noticing:
- The stories I tell at bedtime
- The extra patience I summoned during a tantrum
- The emotional regulation I’m modeling (even when it’s hard)
- The resilience of showing up again tomorrow
These are milestones too.
They may be invisible on a resume, but they shape lives.
When Society Doesn’t See the Work
I was once asked by a friend — kindly, but offhandedly —
“So, what do you do all day?”
It wasn’t meant to sting.
But it did.
Because the truth is: most of the work I do now is invisible.
No one sees the dozens of micro-decisions made before 9 a.m.
No one clocks the patience it takes to soothe a meltdown without breaking down yourself.
No one logs the invisible tab of everyone’s schedules, emotions, laundry needs, and grocery lists — the mental Excel sheet running 24/7 in a caregiver’s brain.
Productivity Culture Has a Visibility Problem
We live in a world where productivity is measured by outputs:
- Deliverables
- Deadlines met
- Paychecks earned
- Status updates
But caregiving doesn’t work like that.
You can’t “finish” being a parent. You can’t schedule a toddler’s emotional regulation on Trello. There are no quarterly KPIs for bedtime stories, or emotional resilience.
This disconnect is why so many moms feel inadequate — even when they’re working harder than they ever have.
When Partners (or Employers) Don’t See It Either
Invisible labor doesn’t just hide from society. Sometimes, it hides inside our own homes.
You may hear:
“Just ask me if you need help.”
“Why are you so tired? I did the dishes.”
“Can’t you just rest when the baby naps?”
But the exhaustion isn’t from doing the dishes.
It’s from being the project manager of life — anticipating needs, filling in gaps, remembering birthday gifts, school forms, and who likes their toast crusted or not.
And because this work rarely results in something tangible or timed, it’s dismissed as “not real work.”
The Guilt That Grows from Silence
This invisibility breeds guilt.
Not just mom guilt — but human guilt. The kind that whispers:
- “You didn’t earn a break.”
- “Others are doing more.”
- “Why can’t you balance it all?”
We internalize a world that doesn’t value care — and then blame ourselves for not doing it perfectly.
Even in freelance work, I’ve found myself downplaying what I have accomplished. If I didn’t write a full article or land a new client, I hesitated to say I’d worked — even if I’d navigated five hours of interrupted thinking and managed two solid paragraphs.
Care Work Is Real Work — But We Need a New Language for It
Until we name it, we can’t value it.
Until we value it, we can’t share it fairly.
And until we share it, we’ll stay burned out, resentful, and unseen.
That’s why talking about micro-milestones matters.
Because they make the invisible visible. They give us vocabulary for honoring a kind of labor that doesn’t show up on timecards but holds up entire families.
Redefining Success, One Quiet Victory at a Time
Some days, success looks like a checked-off to-do list.
Other days, it’s not yelling during a hard morning.
It’s choosing connection over control.
It’s texting a friend instead of isolating.
It’s brushing your hair. Finishing your tea while it’s still warm. Breathing deep instead of spiraling.
The milestones change when you’re caregiving — but they are no less valid.
In fact, they may be more human.
Reclaiming Meaning in a World That Measures Everything
The pressure to “make it count” — every nap time, every minute — used to weigh me down. I’d sit at my laptop, knowing I had just 20 minutes, and freeze. I’d ask, What’s the most productive thing I can do right now?
But over time, I realized:
Productivity doesn’t have to look like output.
It can look like presence.
It can look like trying, again and again, when no one’s watching.
I stopped chasing big wins and started noticing true ones.
Celebrating the Small Steps
Here’s what micro-milestones have looked like in my life recently:
- Sending an email I’d been avoiding for weeks.
- Saying “no” to something that drained me.
- Writing 300 words while the laundry cycled.
- Sitting with my child during a meltdown, not fixing it — just staying.
None of these will earn me applause or a LinkedIn badge.
But they build the life I want, day by day.
A Quiet Revolution of Care
What if we stopped apologizing for doing less —
…and started honoring how much we’re carrying?
What if instead of chasing the old model of success — the hustle, the visibility, the external validation —
we built a new one, rooted in care, slowness, and seasonality?
This isn’t about lowering the bar.
It’s about shifting it.
From “doing it all” to “doing what matters.”
One Small Step at a Time
If you’re in a caregiving season, or in between roles, or redefining your work —
Know this:
💗 You are still growing.
💗 You are still valuable.
💗 And your story isn’t on pause — it’s unfolding in quieter ways.
Maybe success today is brushing your teeth before noon.
Maybe it’s closing your laptop and choosing rest.
Whatever it looks like, it counts.
Because you do.
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