The Comfort of a Mom Planner (Even If You Barely Use It)
Buying one doesn't make you delusional—it means you're smart enough to crave control in a chaotic season
I've bought at least seven planners in the past three years. One was floral and had stickers. One was sleek and "goal-oriented." One literally said "This Will Be Your Year." (Narrator: It was not.)
Most of them ended up on a dusty shelf by April—maybe May if I was ambitious. But here's the kicker: every time I bought one, every time I opened a fresh page and wrote out a week, I felt better. Like I could breathe for a second. Like I had some kind of grip on this wild ride called motherhood.
And that feeling? It's not fake. It's not failure. It's your brain telling you, "We need an anchor. Let's create one."
Why Planners Feel Like Emotional Armor
Motherhood is chaos. Beautiful, life-affirming, snack-strewn chaos. One minute you're organizing your calendar, the next your toddler's throwing a banana across the room because it "peeled wrong."
In a world where your day can be derailed by a skipped nap or an email from your boss that says "quick call?", a planner isn't just a scheduling tool. It's a lifeline.
Here's why planners matter, even if you rarely follow them:
- They externalize your overwhelm. Writing it down clears brain fog. It gets the "Did I RSVP? When's that appointment? What's for dinner?" out of your mental inbox.
- They offer an illusion of control that actually works. Your life might not follow the script—but scripting it anyway gives your nervous system a rest.
- They help re-center your identity. A planner says, I still have goals. I still have ideas. I'm not just surviving—I'm steering.
Even when your day spirals, that planner page stays the same: structured, calm, a visual reminder that you do have some kind of plan—even if it changes.
The Mental Load Is Invisible. Planning Makes It Tangible.
Let's talk about the invisible work moms do. It's not just the tasks—it's the remembering, the managing, the anticipating. That's why so many of us hit our limits and suddenly decide to reorganize the linen closet at 11 PM. It's control-seeking. It's load-lightening.
A planner can be the place where the mental load lands. And trust me, it's better to write it than to carry it all in your head.
Planning doesn't mean you're Type A. It means you're tired of winging it.
Even if your "meal plan" turns into "mac & cheese again," you wrote something down. That's a win. That's effort. That's you taking your chaos seriously enough to try and contain it. And there's power in that.
You're Not "Bad at Planning." You're Parenting in the Wild.
Here's the truth no planner company tells you: a perfect week doesn't exist. At least not for moms of little ones. Life with kids is a moving target. You could have a color-coded calendar and still spend Tuesday in triage because someone tried to "kiss the cat too hard."
And yet, we beat ourselves up. Why? Because the plan didn't go as planned?
No. You're not the problem. The myth of consistency is.
Let's redefine success:
The plan is the hope.
The flexibility is the strategy.
The living is the reality.
Planning is not failing just because it looks different in execution. It's surviving with a system.
Caitlyn's Planner Survival Tips (That Actually Work)
Forget Instagram. This is how moms really use planners:
- The "Did List"
Instead of what you plan to do, write what you actually did.
Wiped butts. Called insurance. Found a lost shoe. ✔️ Validation matters. - Sticky Notes Are Queen
Use moveable notes for tasks that bounce around (like "fold laundry" that's been migrating all week). - Brain Dump Pages
One catch-all section: everything from "check pediatrician" to "new snack idea." Let it be messy. It's your mental overflow. - Chunk Your Time
Block your day into 3–4 parts: Morning Mayhem, Midday Hustle, Evening Triage. No micromanaging needed. - Leave Space for You
Yes, YOU. Add a line that says "Mom Win" or "Moment for Me." Even if it's "hid in bathroom with Oreos."
When the Planner Gets Dusty (Because It Will)
Don't toss it. Don't shame yourself. Just flip to today and write "Still here. Still trying."
Your planner doesn't judge. It holds space.
When it's blank, it's waiting.
When it's messy, it's alive.
And when you use it, even a little, it's reminding you that you are more than your chaos. You are a woman with goals, thoughts, ambitions—who also happens to know 42 snack varieties and the exact sound of a 2-year-old lying.
Mental Load Moment 🍷
One night, I was spiraling—nothing was done, everything felt out of control. I opened my planner, hoping to get a grip. First page? "January Goals: Eat real lunches. Sleep. Say no."
I hadn't done any of it. And yet, reading it felt like hugging an old version of me who wanted better. Not perfect. Just better.
So I poured a glass of wine, ripped out a page, and wrote:
"Today: Survived. Folded one towel. Didn't cry in public. Victory."
Then I went to bed.
You're Not Wasting Time. You're Reclaiming It.
Let's end on this: Buying a planner doesn't mean you're trying to be a Pinterest mom. It means you're trying to feel stable. Seen. Capable.
Even when life veers off course—and it will—you showed up with a pen and tried to map it anyway.
And that? That's not just planning.
That's motherhood.