Dear Wannabe Diary,

My Saturday started in a haze of exhaustion, courtesy of a sleepless night. My toddler decided that the early hours of the morning were perfect for a crying symphony. Stomach cramps? Bad food? Who knows. All I know is that by 3 a.m., I was making chamomile tea while silently cursing the universe—and maybe myself for letting her try that new snack yesterday. By sunrise, she was bouncing around as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, my partner and I resembled extras from The Walking Dead. Parenting: the ultimate endurance sport.

Coffee: The Only Productivity Hack I Need

Two strong cups of coffee later, I convinced myself I was functional enough to tackle the day. My main task? Catching up on the Future Human event. (More about that tomorrow when it wraps up, but spoiler: it’s been amazing so far.)

While soaking up wisdom from brilliant minds in Dubai—virtually, of course, because Dubai-level travel budgets aren’t a reality yet—I attempted to finalize my blog setup. If you visit my site and something doesn’t work, please don’t judge. I’m a self-taught newbie, and the fact that the site even exists feels like winning an Olympic medal. (Feel free to send me encouraging messages—or just tell me it looks decent. Constructive criticism is for people who sleep more than four hours a night.)

Instagram Madness and the TikTok Abyss

Oh, and did I mention I decided to post four times a day on Instagram? Yeah, past me thought that was a great idea. Current me wants to travel back in time and give past me a good shake. Prepping 40+ posts is no joke, especially when you’re also trying to figure out TikTok.

Making reels has been a humbling experience. My editing skills are... let’s call them “a work in progress.” The videos are supposed to be funny, but right now, I think they’d only make my mom laugh—and even then, out of pity. But hey, every reel is a lesson, right? (At least that’s what I tell myself while silently wishing for a budget to hire someone who actually knows what they’re doing.)

Fresh Air and Mini Freedoms

Despite the chaos, we managed a quick family walk. It was my first real outing in months after being on semi-bed rest, and wow—it felt amazing. Breathing cold, crisp air, squinting at the sun... I probably looked like someone freshly released from captivity. Which, in a way, I was.

Of course, I didn’t push my luck. I’m still waiting for my OB to clear me for longer walks. But that little reset? Totally worth it.

Family Time: Short and Sweet

We even squeezed in a quick coffee stop at my parents’ place. My relationship with them is pretty great. They’re chill, fun, and genuinely enjoy hanging out with us. Growing up, they provided everything I needed (and often what I wanted). We weren’t rich, but we were comfortable, and the love was always in abundance.

My mom, a bank worker, managed our finances like a pro—budgeting for everything from emergencies to vacations. Thanks to her planning, we enjoyed trips, skiing, and even a little motorboat that made me feel like the coolest kid ever.

Sure, they raised me with the classic “my house, my rules” vibe, but I can’t complain. They did their best with what they knew, and honestly, I think they nailed it.

The Great "Prove Myself" Syndrome

If there’s one thing I inherited from my mom, it’s stubbornness. (Okay, and a love for lists.) Growing up, we clashed constantly—me wanting to prove her wrong, her insisting I was too headstrong for my own good. Spoiler: we were both right.

Even now, I have this lingering need to prove myself to her, even though she’s super proud of me. She loves telling her friends how I taught myself marketing and landed a job without a degree. But to me, that’s just step one. I don’t want to work for someone else forever—I want to build something of my own.

She supports me but doesn’t entirely believe in my entrepreneurial dreams. And honestly? I don’t blame her. After all, I’ve started and abandoned countless projects over the years. But this time feels different. I have time (thanks to my maternity leave) and motivation to prove, not just to her but to myself, that I can make it happen.

Lessons from Generations

Interestingly, my grandpa—my mom’s dad—was a self-made businessman. He owned a butcher shop and ran it successfully for years. I like to think I inherited some of his entrepreneurial spirit, even if it skipped a generation. My mom, on the other hand, sees stability in a steady job, and I get it. That mindset worked for her, but it’s not for me.

I want financial freedom—not just for myself but for my kids. I want them to have the luxury of choosing careers they love, not ones they’re forced into to pay bills. And while they’ll have to work for what they get (no spoiled brats here!), I want them to know they have options.

Final Thoughts (and a Little Pressure)

Right now, I’m juggling big dreams with limited resources and even more limited energy. But if this week has taught me anything, it’s that progress—even messy, chaotic progress—is still progress. And who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll be able to look back on these sleepless nights and laugh.

For now, I’ll keep pushing forward, fueled by coffee, determination, and just a hint of stubbornness.

Signing off,
Wannabe Supermom (but really just surviving on caffeine and vibes)