It’s Sunday night. Before kids, this was the time to nurse a mimosa hangover and zone out to The Sopranos. Now? It’s a very different playbook. Sunday evenings feel less like a gentle exhale from the weekend and more like staging a Broadway play with a cast that hasn’t rehearsed and refuses to put on pants. You are simultaneously the chef, chauffeur, hairdresser, homework coach, and emotional support animal.

For parents, the Sunday Scaries don’t whisper “your inbox is waiting.” They shout: • Did you wash the soccer uniform? • Are there enough snacks for afterschool? • Is the social studies project due tomorrow or Wednesday? • Ugh! Did I RSVP for that birthday party?

The stress creeps up way before the Monday morning alarm. Workweek Ericka already has 15 Google Meets scheduled, bu

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