In The 12 Week Year, a business and productivity book, the authors write, “If you are not in control of your time, then you are not in control of your results.”

I agree to an extent, and before I say anything else, I’ll say this book and productivity concept has been very helpful for me. But the authors clearly are not talking to moms. Because this is one of the greatest frustrations I’ve had in my 7.5 years of motherhood: I am not (entirely) in control of my time.

Sure, there is a great deal I am in control of. I can control how I use naptime. I can control the activities my kids engage in. I can control our calendar and our schedule and what I write down on our to-do list.

My husband and I went away recently to a cute little Airbnb a couple hours from our house. It was part writing retreat for me, part babymoon before we welcome our fourth. My brother and sister-in-law held down the fort at home, entertaining our three other kids with movies and ice cream and all the things the best aunts and uncles do.

We had two nights to enjoy kid-free quiet, and yes, in many ways it was as luxurious as it sounds (despite my pregnant body feeling slow and uncomfortable and reckoning with the reality that I’m not exactly in my 20s anymore!). On Saturday morning, I slept in (8:30am!), drank coffee while it was still hot, stayed in my pajamas until lunchtime (OK, that’s not that uncommon these days), and generally moved at a glacial pace.

While my husband roamed around the house not quite knowing what to do with himself, I commented, “I’m finally going at a pace I can manage.”

I felt like I could keep up with the day, like I could move my body when it was ready. I could exercise, then rest. I could read a book, then write. And for once in my life, I wasn’t rushing out the door or running late.