Self-care rituals keep me sane in a bustling young adult household

My husband and I live in a four-bedroom, two-bathroom house with our three young adult children – ages 18 to 22 – and two of their significant others. This type of lifestyle has advantages and disadvantages.

The sink and trash cans are full every time you turn around, but there’s also some extra helping hand. Our driveway looks like a used car lot, but there’s no shortage of people who can grab a gallon of milk on the way home. In many ways, it’s like living in a hostel where people come and go at all hours of the day and night. You share the same roof, but everyone lives very different lives.

To be clear, this was never part of the grand plan of life. But with the cost of living being what it is, my husband and I were faced with a choice: let our oldest son move out and live in his car with his girlfriend (which was their plan), or let them move in with us while they save for their own place. Then our future son-in-law joined the party so he could save on dorm fees, finish school, and afford to get married and move out by the end of the year.

In situations like this, where alone time exists only as a theoretical concept, self-care is no longer a luxury: it’s a matter of survival. I have incorporated three self-care rituals into my lifestyle that I believe have kept me sane.

I regularly get sun and movement

For me, sun and movement are essential. Daily walks are non-negotiable because they reconnect me to nature and remind me that the world is bigger than my overflowing house. I find refuge in outdoor tasks or carrying my laptop to the porch.

My smart watch reminds me if I haven’t walked away from my computer in the last hour. When I hear that buzz, I don’t just ride my bike: I go out to water the plants, check the mail, or take a walk.

Anything I can do to get a little more sunshine is a good thing.

Nights off and breaks without a device help me decompress

My second self-care ritual involves setting intentional boundaries to protect my marriage. This includes weekly parties that stay within budget. We may share a home-cooked meal or lock ourselves away to watch a show together, and during these times we consider ourselves “off duty.” It’s simply about disconnecting from the demands of the people living in our home and reconnecting with each other.

And, yes, sometimes life happens and we are interrupted by perceived emergencies, but we are more able to roll with the punches when we know another break is within our reach.

This year, as a special gift, we organized a road trip. For six blissful days, we left our laptops at home, checked our phones only once a morning, and were otherwise completely off work.

These breaks are not about ignoring family; it’s about protecting the partnership that will survive our current life situation.

I find a safe place to let off steam

My third self-care ritual involves releasing my own personal pressure valve by releasing it towards someone. Without it, my right eyelid twitches a little and I become snappy. Eventually, something small, like a half-drunk bottle of water left in the living room (again!), sets me off.

So I learned to let off steam before it happened. It’s often a conversation with my husband or a close friend around a campfire. Each session begins with a mutually agreed upon question: Do you need advice or are you just venting?

This simple question changes everything.

Having someone listen releases the steam that has been building inside me and allows me to breathe without the person listening feeling like they have to “fix” something.

I integrated rest into family life

What all of these rituals have in common is that I intentionally integrate them into everyday life. I make no secret that these things are demands on my mental health. I say, “I can’t do this before my walk” or “I’d love to do this with you, but tonight is my night off.” Will tomorrow work?

The more I normalize these breaks, the more the household respects them. As an added bonus, consistent self-care modeling encourages others to reflect on their own self-care needs.

In a busy home, carving out space is more of a mental game than a physical one. When I take these small but consistent steps, I notice that I am calmer and kinder. I respond rather than react.

It’s not just better for me. It’s better for everyone.