Motherhood (At Least Today, So Far) Is...

Waking up at 3:55 am to your toddler’s cries, bringing them into your bed to snuggle, but it turns into an hour-long wrestling match (they win).

Getting out of bed at 4:55 am to play and enjoy an early morning snack of Cheerios and cheese.

Cuddling on the couch—well, they’re sprawled out and taking up nearly the entire couch, so you’re hanging over the edge. They fall back asleep, but you’re wide awake.

Bringing them into their crib and missing them, but also grateful that you can get a bit more sleep before they wake up again.

Singing and dancing “Happy Birthday” to Auntie Elle. Watching your daughter do the cutest little cheer with rainbow streamers.

Having them excitedly crawl into your lap to read the Jane Goodall “monkey book” and squeezing them tightly knowing that having them safe and happy in your arms is a gift.

Playing a bouncy game on your lap that is more of a workout than you bargained for, but her shrieks of glee are well worth the sore muscles.

Having her help you make your matcha and get soooo excited over sips of coconut water. You tell her she can have one more sip until you put it away and she keeps feigning to take a sip and then changes her mind, laughing mischievously. One more sip? Oh, she'll have it, on her own terms and in her own time.

Making yourself some Cocoa Cluster granola, only to have her stake her claim on it. But she’s quite the culinary critic, you see. She doesn't care for the big chunks, so she employs those deliciously pudgy fingers (sticky with who knows what) to remove them from the spoon and plop them back into the milk.

Then, she takes a massive bite, contemplates it for a moment, decides she doesn’t enjoy that either, and generously empties all the contents in her mouth back into the gold-flecked mug—the very mug you felt oh-so-fancy enjoying your breakfast out of, but let's be real, it's hard to maintain that vibe with the half-chewed backwash that now awaits you.

Nevertheless, you eat said chunky bits of backwash until the very best and most delicious chocolatey milk is left over for you to enjoy. Ahhhh. You reach for your spoon, only to have it yanked away by your adorable little cherub—because she’s decided THIS is the bit that’s hers for the taking.

With the spoon out of her way, she grabs hold of the mug and delightedly drinks her heart out. Your mouth feels dry and disappointed knowing what could’ve been, but, you know what? It's all worth it because she's so happy.

Welcoming your nanny who arrives with a newspaper article of your husband. You point to his photo and ask your little one, “Who’s that?!” She excitedly responds, “DAAAAADDY!” And then she proceeds to point to a photo of a woman who is 30-40 years older than you saying, “MOMMY!” Oh gee, thanks babes!

Showering her with smooches before you go off into your writing den, gesturing to your cheek and asking, “Can I have a kiss, please?!” She responds by shoving her tiny hand in your face and making you kiss the top of it. Hopefully, there won’t be demands for bows next.

Walking down the hallway to your writing sanctuary filled with gratitude for those silly and sacred moments shared. And then the parenthood paradox hits—the push-pull between savoring solo time and the undeniable truth that you can never get enough of her.

That tension between the two truths never seems to go away. But instead of letting it tear at you, you allow it to stretch you—pulling you deeper into your understanding of self and your wisdom.

Some days, carving out hours of solo time is the soul food that will nourish you both most; other days, being inseparable is the remedy you both need. There's no right or wrong or judgment needed. It’s about attunement and honing your intuitive acuity to read the subtle energy that’s present, and being willing to navigate each moment with that as your compass.

That’s what motherhood is.

(For me. Today. So far.)