Photo Credit: Kimberly Anne
- My husband and I live in a four-bedroom house with our three kids and two of their partners.
- Our household is busy and bustling; there isn't a lot of extra space, but there's always extra help.
- To stay grounded, I have incorporated self-care rituals into my routine.
My husband and I live in a four-bedroom, two-bath house with our three young adult children — ages 18 to 22 — and two of their significant others. This type of living arrangement has pros and cons.
The sink and trash cans are full every time you turn around, but there are also additional helping hands. Our driveway looks like a used car lot, but there is no shortage of people who can grab a gallon of milk on their way home. In many ways, it's like living in a hostel where people come and go at all hours of the day and night. You share the same roof, but everyone lives very separate lives.
To be clear, this was never part of the grand life plan. But with the cost of living being what it is, my husband and I faced a choice: let our oldest son move out and live in his car with his girlfriend (which was their plan), or let them move in with us while they save for their own place. Then our future son-in-law joined the party so he could save dorm costs, finish college, and afford to tie the knot and move out by the end of the year.
In situations like this, where alone time exists only as a theoretical concept, self-care is no longer a luxury — it's a matter of survival. I've integrated three self-care rituals into my lifestyle that, I believe, have kept me sane.
I get regular sunshine and movement
For me, sunshine and movement are essential. Daily walks are nonnegotiable as they reconnect me with nature and remind me that the world is bigger than my overflowing house. I find sanctuary in outdoor chores or carrying my laptop to the porch.
I have my smartwatch remind me if I haven't stepped away from my computer in the last hour. When I get that buzz, I don't just cycle the laundry — I step outside to water the plants, check the mail, or go for a walk.
Anything I can do to catch some extra sunshine is a good thing.
Off-duty nights and device-free breaks help me decompress
My second self-care ritual is setting intentional boundaries to safeguard my marriage. This includes weekly date nights that don't bust the budget. We may share a homemade meal or lock ourselves away to watch a show together, and during these times, we consider ourselves "off-duty." It's just about disconnecting from the demands of the people living in our house and reconnecting with each other.
And, yes, sometimes life happens and we get interrupted by perceived emergencies, but we are more able to roll with the punches when we know another break is within reach.
As a special treat this year, we threw in a road trip. For six blissful days, we left our laptops at home, only checked our phones once each morning, and were otherwise completely off duty.
These breaks are not about ignoring family; they're about protecting the partnership that will outlast our current living situation.
I find a safe place to vent
My third self-care ritual is releasing my own personal pressure valve by venting to someone. Without it, I get a little twitch in my right eyelid, and I get snappy. Eventually, something small, like a half-drank water bottle that was abandoned in the living room (again!), sets me off.
So I've learned to vent before that happens. This is often a conversation with my husband or a close friend around a campfire. Each session starts with a mutually agreed-upon question: Do you need advice, or are you just venting?
That simple question changes everything.
Having someone to listen releases the steam that is building inside me and allows me to breathe without the person listening feeling like they need to "fix" something.
I've built rest into family life
What all of these rituals have in common is that I intentionally integrate them into everyday life. I don't hide that these things are requirements for my sanity. I say, "I can't do that until after my walk," or "I would love to do that with you, but tonight is my off-duty night. Does tomorrow work?"
The more I normalize these pauses, the more the household respects them. As a bonus, the consistent modeling of self-care encourages others to self-reflect on their own self-care needs.
In a busy home, carving out space for yourself is more of a mental game than a physical one. When I take these small but consistent steps, I notice that I'm calmer and kinder. I respond rather than react.
That's not just better for me. It's better for everyone.