Why I Started Locking the Bathroom Door Again

By Sarah Mitchell

Six months ago, I stopped locking the bathroom door. It happened slowly, the way most parenting compromises do. First it was because my toddler had a habit of banging on it and crying like the house was on fire. Then it became easier to just leave it unlocked so nobody had to wait. Self-care for parents sounds like candles and bubble baths in every magazine spread, but honestly, for me it started with something much smaller: getting five uninterrupted minutes to brush my teeth without an audience.

I didn’t realize how much that one small surrender had cost me until I locked the door again last month, almost on impulse, and felt my shoulders drop two inches. That’s when it hit me — this is what burnout actually feels like. Not a dramatic collapse. Just death by a thousand unlocked doors.

The Mental Load Doesn’t Clock Out

Here’s the thing nobody tells you before you have kids. The physical exhaustion is real, but it’s the mental load that wears you down slowest and hardest. It’s remembering the permission slip, the dentist appointment, whose turn it is for snack day, and that you’re almost out of the allergy medication — all while someone is asking you to look at a Lego structure for the fourth time in ten minutes.

Self-care for parents isn’t about adding more to your plate. It’s about occasionally taking something off it, even for ten minutes, without guilt attached. That’s the part we skip. We’ll take the ten minutes, sure, but we spend eight of them mentally running through the to-do list instead of actually resting.

Small Resets That Actually Work

I used to think self-care meant scheduling a spa day I’d cancel anyway. What actually moved the needle for me was smaller and dumber than that. Things I could do on a random Tuesday without childcare, money, or planning.

• Locking the bathroom door and sitting on the closed toilet lid for five minutes with my coffee, even if someone knocks.
• Saying “I need a minute” out loud instead of quietly gritting my teeth until I snap at someone who didn’t deserve it.
• Keeping one pair of pajamas that no one else in the house is allowed to wear, spill on, or borrow — a small, ridiculous boundary that somehow matters.

None of these fix burnout. But they interrupt it, which is often all you need to get through the day without losing yourself completely in it.

Why the Guilt Shows Up Anyway

Even knowing all this, I still feel guilty locking that door sometimes. There’s a voice that says a good mom is available at all times, that needing privacy is somehow selfish. That voice is lying to you. Kids don’t need a parent who’s endlessly available. They need one who’s still in there — still a full person underneath the schedule and the snacks and the school pickup line.

I’ve talked to enough moms and dads at pickup, at birthday parties, in the group chat at 11pm, to know I’m not the only one who quietly let small boundaries slip during the newborn years and never quite got them back. Self-care for parents gets treated like a luxury item, something you earn after everything else is done. But everything else is never done. That’s the trick of it. If you wait for the list to be finished, you’ll wait forever.

Start With the Door

You don’t need a plan, a retreat, or a Pinterest board to practice self-care for parents. You need one small thing you reclaim on purpose, today, even if it feels silly. For me, it was a lock on a bathroom door. For you, it might be finishing your coffee while it’s still hot, or driving the long way home just for three extra minutes of quiet. Whatever it is, stop waiting for permission. Lock the door. See how your shoulders feel afterward.

Personal Note – I was hard to take this time for myself – trust me; I felt guilty. But, all in all. Me and my toddler came thought it unscathed. They learned that mommy had somethings to do by herself and as much as she loves her lil helper she had to do them alone. I learned that its all going to be okay – I can take a break from it and everything is not going to fall apart. 🙂