The Quiet Shift That Changed Everything

I’ve always loved routine and structure. I still do.
But early in motherhood, I realized I needed to loosen my grip—just a little. I couldn’t control everything anymore, even though I tried.

Why isn’t my baby sleeping like my friends’ babies?
Why won’t she take a bottle?
Your husband can do bedtime? Mine can’t—and it’s not because he isn’t trying.
Babysitters for date nights? That wasn’t our reality.

I spent a lot of time trying to follow paths that worked for other people. Doing what friends were doing. Measuring myself against examples that weren’t built for me. Looking back, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache if I had listened to one thing instead: myself. My instincts.

When Violet was only a few weeks old, a public health nurse came to our house. She told me the only things I needed to do were feed my baby, love her, and—most importantly—trust myself. At the time, it sounded simple. Almost too simple.

But trusting yourself is hard when the noise is constant.

The noise only grew louder as conversations shifted toward going back to work, daycare plans, and what came next. None of it sat right with me—or with my husband. Something about it felt off, even though I couldn’t fully articulate why.

The funny thing is, I actually enjoyed working. I liked the income, the structure, the social aspect, and having something to build. So I tried to make it all work. I saw other mothers working with children and assumed I should be able to do the same.

I tried—for just over a year.

Eventually, it became clear that something was going to suffer. I was still a loving, present mother, but there was no space left for me. And yet everywhere I looked, I was being told how important it was for mothers to take care of themselves.

That disconnect led me to a different kind of content—stories about slowing down, about finding joy within motherhood instead of constantly trying to escape it. That’s when something clicked.

I enjoy alone time, of course. But I wasn’t trying to run away from this life—the one I had chosen. When I stopped treating “me time” as an escape, I found more joy woven into my days. More freedom in doing what mattered to me, when it mattered, without constantly fighting the rhythm of my life.

So now I’m choosing something different.

Less rigid routine.
More gentle rhythm.
More joy in the simple, everyday moments of motherhood.

This season feels like a return—to presence, to trust, and to a slower kind of living. One rooted in care, intention, and what I’ve come to call homemaking.