Shabadabba Moments: Why Mothers Deserve More Than Just One Day

This post was originally meant to be a simple reflection on Mother's Day, which, in case you've been living under a rock, is this Sunday. But as I sat down to write, something kept tugging at me—something bigger than just a celebration. Mother's Day is a beautiful occasion to honour the incredible women in our lives, but for many, it's also a complicated, emotional time. And as I reflected on my own journey, I realised I had something else to share—something about emotional and hormonal health that's been on my mind for quite a while. 

For the women reading this, you know how our emotions can fluctuate throughout our cycles, impacting everything from how we perform to how we feel. But for so long, admitting this was almost taboo. How many of us have brushed it off, afraid of being labelled "hormonal" or feeling like a failure because we couldn't just push through? And heaven forbid someone makes the classic "Oh, you must be on your period" comment—how DARE they?! But the truth is, we should be talking about this. We should be shouting, "I'm at that point in my cycle—everyone, please adjust accordingly!" 

I remember one of my early conversations with Jean-Paul, where I told him I try not to schedule important meetings or make big decisions during certain phases of my cycle. I even adjust how I eat and exercise depending on where I am hormonally. But even though I've been open about it, I'm not sure how much it really sinks in. Maybe because I say it but don't always show it. And this month? It's been weighing on me even more. 

Why Don't We Give Ourselves Permission to Slow Down? 

I read somewhere that Spain granted paid menstrual leave for women experiencing severe period pain, which I thought was great. But wouldn't it be even better if women could adapt their workload or shift certain tasks to align with their capabilities during different phases of their cycle? Because let's be honest—while menstruation itself can be rough, it's often the lead-up that's the hardest. 

In the luteal phase, when progesterone (the calming hormone) drops and oestrogen (which boosts serotonin and dopamine) also dips, that's when everything feels heavy. Mood swings, anxiety, irritability, fatigue... it's a perfect storm. By the time menstruation begins, things slowly start to balance again—but that build-up? It's exhausting. 

This month, I felt it more than usual. I scheduled a call when I knew I shouldn't have, and the person I spoke to was exactly the type who wouldn't understand the concept of cycle-syncing. I was left wondering—how do I get people to understand this? 

When It All Comes to a Head 

By the end of the week, I was at breaking point. I came home, and Jean-Paul took one look at me and knew something was off. I couldn't even explain it—I just said, "I feel overly stimulated." Too many people, too much noise, too much everything. But the reality is that I felt like I wanted to run away but how could I explain that?

As a mother, you're constantly being needed. And somehow, when you're feeling this way, your child seems to sense it and becomes extra clingy—like they've been possessed by a "needy-on-steroids" spirit. But in that moment, I needed someone. I needed my mother. Or maybe not my actual mum, but a Mary Poppins stroke Mrs. Doubtfire, or better yet—the matron from the hospital where I gave birth. Someone to swoop in, shush everyone away, and tuck me into bed. 

But of course, I carried on. We had dinner, but I felt so off and felt SO bad for feeling off. I couldn't enjoy the moment because I felt extremely anxious. I love our family dinners, what's WRONG with ME?! Eventually, I escaped to the bedroom, Jean-Paul followed. He didn't need words—he just wrapped me in the biggest hug and didn't let go. And in that moment, I felt like I could breathe again. He GOT IT! 

Shabadabba: A Code for Overwhelm 

As I got ready for bed that night, I gave myself the usual pep talk. Tomorrow will be better. I'll be more patient. I'll handle things more gracefully. You know, all the things we tell ourselves to keep going. 

But then morning came... and the universe had other plans. I went to make tea, and—of course—the teabag broke, spilling tea leaves everywhere. It was such a small thing, but in that moment, it felt monumental. I could feel the frustration bubbling up. Oh great, Maria, you're one of those women now—ready to lose it over a broken teabag. But no. I wasn't being "psycho." I was just overwhelmed. I needed space. I needed silence. I needed my imaginary matron to whisk me away and handle e v e r y t h i n g  for me. 

Instead? I ate a bar of chocolate. Classic. Did it solve anything? No. But did I care? Not really. I was too drained to even feel guilty about it. Maybe I should have just done nothing. But when you're a mum, "doing nothing" feels like a luxury you can't afford. 

My daughter came down a little later, and I gave her our secret signal. "Shabadabba." She nodded, understanding immediately that I wasn't feeling great. I really should loop Jean-Paul into this system, but how do I explain to my partner that "Shabadabba" is code for "I'm overwhelmed, please proceed with caution"? And could I realistically use it all week without raising eyebrows? 

Later, on the school run, my daughter asked, "Would you rather...?"—her usual attempt to spark some fun. But I just couldn't. "I'm sorry, love, but can we have a little silence?" And there it was. Cue the guilt. You're such a bad mum, Maria. But am I really? Or am I just recognising that sometimes, I need a moment of quiet to avoid hitting a breaking point? 

Because honestly? If I don't give myself that space now, I might end up needing a real-life matron—and not the comforting kind from my imagination, but one in an actual hospital. And that's a place I definitely don't want to end up. 

Embracing the Power of Our Cycles: Shifting the Narrative

This all circles back to something I've been thinking about a lot lately: how we, as women, need to stop pushing through these moments and instead start working with our bodies. Our hormones are powerful forces that affect everything—from our mood and energy to our ability to cope with the tiniest of stressors (like rogue tea leaves!). Yet we're so conditioned to "just get on with it" that we ignore the signals our bodies send us. 

But here's where I'm shifting gears. I'm over feeling like I'm being 'precious' or weak because I need to adjust my pace during certain phases of my cycle. I'm learning to say it louder and without apology: I'm in this part of my cycle, and I'm adjusting accordingly. And I want other women to feel that same strength. 

We shouldn't have to explain or justify these adjustments. It's not about being fragile—it's about being in tune with what our bodies need. And when we acknowledge that, we become stronger, not weaker. 

And we owe it to our partners too, who often don't have insight into what we're going through. They deserve to understand how we're feeling—not just when we're having a bad day, but why we're struggling. When we open up about our cycles, we give them the chance to truly support us in ways that matter. We're not asking for sympathy; we're asking for understanding. 

So, as Mother's Day approaches, I'm not just celebrating my wonderful mother, my amazing sister, and my daughter who has made me the happiest Mother out there. I'm also committing to standing firm in honouring my body's natural rhythm—and I want to give other women the strength to do the same. 

Stay tuned, because I'm on a mission to make this better for ALL of us. We deserve to thrive, not just survive—and that starts by giving ourselves permission to honour where we are, unapologetically.