Before I had children, I wasn’t always the quickest to respond to text messages and voicemails. As a self-proclaimed introvert, frequent breaks from socialization have been a lifelong necessity to recharge and mentally prepare for the next event requiring engagement and attentiveness. And yet, throughout adulthood, my social life remained a priority as my inboxes were regularly tended to…until they weren’t.

Once the twins arrived, all bets were off as my phone became an unnecessary stressor. I became painfully slow at getting back to those who attempted to reach me. Now that my twins are toddlers, that slowness has become more pronounced. I am constantly chasing after little humans who are at risk for self-destruction at every turn, albeit unintentionally. That level of required focus and energy is enough to prevent me from creating or fostering connections with other adults, even when I want to.

It gets even more difficult to stay in touch with others while acting as the primary parent. I consider myself to be a stay-at-home mom ¾ of the time seeing as I only work a few shifts per month. This means that I don’t often reap the benefits of outside adult interactions. My phone is my lifeline to friends, family, and my deployed partner, but I don’t usually have enough time or energy to maintain an empty inbox or flourishing outbox. There exists a craving for connection, but a lack of drive to initiate or return it. Such is the contradictory life of a mother, especially one that thrives on routine alone time and quiet introspection.

I applaud the women who can juggle it all with vigor. The ones that can juggle the daily demands of life and motherhood while staying socially involved in groups, churches, professional organizations, and personal friendships. With that applause, however, comes enthusiastic acceptance that that lifestyle just isn’t for me. I refuse to do it all with all of my energy all of the time.

Without a partner around to provide respite, I’m even more tired and socially withdrawn than usual. I routinely feel overstimulated, thus requiring every ounce of personal time available to rest. Parenting is a beautiful, yet exhausting job. As with any other job, breaks are important. And yes, my definition of a break often includes the strict avoidance of my phone. Like the plague.

So I’m sorry for not texting back. It doesn’t mean that I don’t value you or your time. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about your current dealings or feelings. I do want to catch up and meet up, but I’m not in a season to be able to do that quickly. As my social life takes a back burner to early motherhood, please know that there will come a time when I can excitedly return calls, texts, emails, and funny reels. I won’t need to decompress so often and I won’t have a love-hate relationship with my cellular device. Until that time comes, please be patient with me. I’m still here and I still think of you.