Mindful Moments Blog

When my kids were babies, I didn’t want to read articles titled, “10 Ways to Make Bathtime More Enriching.” I wanted to read about other moms who were fishing craisin-speckled feces out of the tub with a bath toy while swearing and silently weeping.  I didn’t want to read, “5 Screen-Free Restaurant Activities for Your Kids.” I wanted another mom to tell me that she burned with resentment when the kids needed her to take them potty just as the food arrived because of course they were both girls and she was the only parent who ever had to take kids to the potty in public.  I didn’t even glean anything useful from “The Bedtime Routine That Will 100% Work for You No Matter Your Child’s Age, Your Personality Type, or Your Life Situation.” But I did appreciate that other moms put earbuds in and sat in the hallway drinking wine while their kids sobbed explosively from their tiny toddler beds.  I rolled my eyes at “How to Know Whether Your Kids Are Well Rounded” and gobbled up essays where moms disclosed that they had their kids in daycare even though they weren’t working. I wanted to read that I wasn’t messing up my kids’ lives because I sucked at crafts or said bad words or craved alone time.  I wanted to read that other moms also preferred their children in small doses.  That their mornings were a disaster and that they couldn’t seem to stick with chore charts and that their kid went through a biting phase too but that the older toddler who got in their kid’s face at the play area totally had that shoulder bite coming.  Now that I have a tween and a teenager, I am equally disinterested in “Communication Strategies Guaranteed to Work for Your Teen;” “Boundaries 101 for Moms of Teenage Girls;” “Read These 42 Books To Make Sure Your Kid Has Healthy Relationships, “ and “5 Ways to Tell If Your Kid is A Basketcase.”  I do not want to hear that the struggles we are dealing with now mean my child is going to “find her people” in college and change the world, even if I secretly believe this deep in my heart (please, please let it be true). Here’s what I want to read. I want to hear from other parents that this era of their lives sucks too.  I want to read the stories of moms who cry in the shower and feel like they are having panic attacks at Target when they see a kid who bullied their kid at school.  I want to read about how they feel like screaming in people’s faces until their throat is raw.  I want them to tell me that they understand how hard it is to discern when to advocate and when to quietly retreat.  I want to read real, gritty stories about how messed up society is and how we aren’t the crazy ones.  I want to hear your gut-wrenching story and I want you to tell me that you see yourself in my words.  There is no manual. I want to be reminded that there is no one "right" parenting manual. There wasn’t when my kids were small, and there isn’t now. Bring me your stories about how worried you are about your kids. Maybe you think they are liars or lazy or hoarders or basic or too weird or too much or you’re terrified they are going to lose themselves or get swallowed whole.  Tell me about how you cried at their final concert because your kid was being bullied and decided to quit the band.  Tell me how angry you are, that it isn’t fair and it isn’t right and I’ll tell you you aren’t crazy and you can tell me I’m not either.  All I have ever wanted in this world of writing and reading about parenthood is to read the real stuff.  The spaces for mothers to write honestly about motherhood are being rapidly displaced, making way for “reported essays,” where experts give you something helpful to share so people don’t think you’re a navel-gazing basketcase with poor boundaries because you want to write a story that has essentially no point except this: This sucks, I am drowning, and hey, how are you doing? I guess that was the beauty of the (gag, don’t make me say it) “mommy blogging” era, a time when really, our writing had no point. It existed only to exist, to be read, to land on soft ground where another mom would say, “God, that feels like me.”  I know there are a lot of uplifting resources out there. And, if you’ve shared them with me, thank you. Of course, I want to read and learn and have hope and be strong and do better.  In fact, a bunch of stuff that I said I didn’t want to hear up there, I actually appreciate and attempt to integrate. Really.  But you get the point. Sometimes, I just want to write with no solution required and no problems solved.  And maybe, sometimes, you just want to read with no solution outlined, no problems solved, and no learning or new skills acquired. So much has changed since the days when I gritted my teeth on the floors of public restrooms trying to shove chubby legs through pull-up holes and cover the sensor on the back of the toilet that scared the Bejeezus out of my kids.  But so much about me hasn’t changed.  The kind of parent I am.  The kind of writing I do.  The type of people I want to talk to. It’s my dogs, guys. The people I want to talk to are like my dogs.  So tell me, how the hell are you doing with this parenting era, whatever it looks like for you? I’ll listen. No “how-to” lists, bullet points, or expert commentary is required. Need some inspiration? We got 'ja.  Print this and remember the "AND"... we can feel overwhelmed and BE ENOUGH, all at the very same time. Reparent Yourself Intergenerational healing is about progress... not perfection.  By understanding and embracing your inner child with kindness, you become resilient, improve your emotional well-being, and form a deeper connection with yourself and others.  If you would like guidance and support in your reparenting journey, please take a moment to explore the Reparent Yourself Masterclass Bundle. Lifetime Access to 20 Interactive Courses, Guided Meditations, Healing Movement, and Other Transformative Resources. The Reparent Yourself Masterclass Bundle is available at 94% Off Savings for a limited time.

Remember, there is a little one wanting to be parented inside of you, too.  

I get it. I get all of it. The screams, the tears, the tantrums. Your bottom lip drops and your eyes brim with emotions. Sometimes you even turn away from me. That one rips my heart in two. Then the sun will peek through and the smiles will come...

Motherhood. Nothing brings us more elated joy or crushing heartache. The good news is, you’re up for it. You can handle every up and down, every tear and every grin, because you were chosen for it. You being her mama is not an accident. 

My daughter sat fearlessly in the barber's chair with a smile across her face as long clumps of hair left her head. And it was then I realized not only what's important in life, but what gives it meaning.

The thing they don’t tell you when you’re expecting that little bundle of joy is that the bundle is going to break your heart eventually. It usually happens in a million tiny breaks over the years. But while a mother’s heart breaks many times, it is ultimately indestructible. 

Do you ever feel like a piece of you gets lost in Motherhood? By Leselle Theus It was only dinner, or so I thought. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited to go to dinner. I love going out to dinner. But, in the last four years, I could count on my fingers how many times I indulged in this sweet pleasure of mine, which was a bummer because going out to a new or old favorite restaurant was “my thing!” I loved it so much that it actually didn’t matter if the dinner was a one or five-star rating because, in my eyes, it was the experience that made my heart smile.  So sitting at the restaurant with my friend felt familiar, and it was lovely.  Actually, it turned out to be more than lovely.  This dinner CHANGED MY LIFE! It produced a feeling in me that I hadn’t felt in a while.  I got home and walked through the door … practically skipping … floating, even. “Hello, my boys!” I sang, with my chipper greeting being returned by strange looks from my husband and 4-year-old.  But I didn’t care. I. WAS. HAPPY. Why did this dinner produce such a high? Why? Because it was ME. It was 100% me! I realized that when I became a mom, I gave up on myself. I can’t tell you why, but somewhere in the last four years, I thought that I couldn’t be both me and mom. One had to head to the guillotine. And sadly and quietly, I did.   What followed next was joy in motherhood. Delight in pouring into this brilliant, tiny human. Yet, there was also a silent mourning for me which masked itself in my overwhelm; in my pensive states; in silent screams of “something is missing.” Despite this, I was quick to self-reprimand with the guilt for wanting more, yet having so much to be grateful for.  I love my family. But this fraction of a person longed to walk in wholeness again. It was a longing that felt like a shadow that I couldn’t make out, until now. The shadow was me, wanting to emerge from the background to its rightful place. So even though I couldn’t have foreseen it, going to dinner that afternoon was not just going to dinner. It was reintroducing me to what I love. To what fills me up. To what makes my heart smile. It reintroduced me to Me.  Here’s the reality. I didn’t have to choose. I just had to pivot. I just had to learn the balance. The balance of what makes me and the balance of filling up and pouring out. Now that I have, it feels great. I am feeling better than I have ever felt in four years.  What was I thinking? What are you thinking? Trying to mom on E(mpty)? Trying to mom without being 100% you? Your family benefits, somewhat. You benefit in no way. But everyone will benefit if you are 100% you. Monthly dinners are now on the calendar for me. I’ll get to late-night dinners again soon. But for now, reservation at five, please, so I can fill up and then head home to my family to pour out.  Welcome back, Leselle. I missed you. Reparent Yourself Intergenerational healing is about progress... not perfection.  By understanding and embracing your inner child with kindness, you become resilient, improve your emotional well-being, and form a deeper connection with yourself and others.  If you would like guidance and support in your reparenting journey, please take a moment to explore the Reparent Yourself Masterclass Bundle. Lifetime Access to 20 Interactive Courses, Guided Meditations, Healing Movement, and Other Transformative Resources. The Reparent Yourself Masterclass Bundle is available at 94% Off Savings for a limited time.

There are millions of beautiful moments in parenting and also, sometimes, it feels hard. If you’re finding yourself in a heavy season today, or if you are having trouble recognizing yourself, here are 5 pieces of encouragement. 

This mama writes a poem to her husband as she navigates her baby blues, teary eyes, breastfeeding, and raw limits.

Leaving your career to stay home with your kids is a big shift. Discover how to manage the emotional impact, find your footing, and embrace this new chapter with confidence.

Parenthood is the ultimate journey - not only in getting to know our children but in growing (and testing) ourselves, too. I have learned so much in my years of mommin’, and here are just a few. Maybe you can relate, too …