The best / worst thing iPhone ever did was stop limiting the number of Safari tabs I could have open at once.

Remember when we were limited to eight? Or was it six? I probably benefited from that.

There are a few tabs I keep open so they’re easily accessible. Some I reach for specifically during tough days, others I just revisit regularly to keep them fresh in my mind.

Don’t Carpe Diem by Glennon Doyle – This one makes the rounds on the internet pretty regularly, and for good reason. When the days feel exceptionally long or a certain parenting task is taking every ounce of strength I have left, I reread this and reset myself.

I hate it when the assholes are right by Janelle Hanchett – It feels relentless to give you this post right after ‘Don’t Carpe Diem’ because what am I trying to do here, drown you in your own tears? Maybe save this link for later. Or don’t. You do you.

For Whatever It’s Worth by Sarah Turner – This is the perfect bit of advice for when a second (or third, etc.) baby comes along. It’s honest, succinct, and feels like permission to say no to something when you need to say no. We don’t need permission, yes, I’m aware of this, but the day I received the email from my son’s school about all of the various ways to volunteer this year and I felt the immediate urge to limit my volunteer efforts followed by the guilt that I wouldn’t be involved enough, I immediately reread this post.

Christmas Guidance for Moms by Sarah Turner – Another great post by Sarah, this one a bit oddly specific, I know, but I think her guidance here is not only spot-on for Christmas but also for other areas of life that are easy traps for overextending ourselves.

I also keep a couple of poems where I can reread them easily, although I’ve reread these two so many times, I can nearly recite them:

Good Bones by Maggie Smith – This one sums up parenting for me.

On Children by Kahlil Gibran – A wise friend of mine, someone whose mothering I admire, sent me this poem on a day that had been especially frustrating for me as a mother. Her father had it framed on his nightstand throughout her childhood. It just about brought me to my knees and was exactly what I needed in that moment. Sometimes I find myself ruminating over a random line from it like the English major I am.