The Mindful Mama

08/08/2025

Second day down, and as the evening winds down, I’m realizing that routines are quietly taking root, the chaos is softening at the edges, and maybe—just maybe—we’re finding our groove one small win (and one lukewarm coffee) at a time.

08/07/2025

08/07/2025

It’s Thursday morning, and the house is… quiet. Peacefully, wonderfully quiet. Second day of school, and we’re already moving like we almost know what we’re doing.

The kids woke up a little slower than yesterday (the back-to-school buzz wore off fast), but they were still smiling—especially when I reminded them there's pizza on the lunch menu today. Somehow, that fixed everything. Honestly, same.

Snacks were packed, breakfast didn’t end up all over the floor, and nobody misplaced a shoe. That’s basically Olympic-level parenting in my book.

Drop-off was smooth, with just a quick hug and a confident walk toward the door. No drama, no tears. Just a “Love you, Mom!” and off they went—like tiny professionals.

Now I’m home, coffee number two in hand, laptop open, and enjoying a few golden minutes of calm before diving into my workday. The to-do list is long, but today, it feels doable. Maybe it’s the coffee. Maybe it’s the fact that I didn’t have to repeat “put your shoes on” seventeen times. Either way, I’ll take it.

We’re settling in. Not perfectly, not without a little chaos here and there—but we’re doing it.

So here’s to Thursday mornings that feel just a little more manageable. To the slow return of routine. And to remembering that every small win is worth celebrating.

You’ve got this, Mama. Now go sip that coffee while it’s still (mostly) warm.

08/07/2025

One school day down, and as the house finally quiets, I’m sitting in the stillness—tired but grateful—knowing we made it through the chaos, the emotions, and the milestones of the first day, and somehow, we’re already stronger for it.

08/06/2025

It’s 9:45 a.m., and for the first time in what feels like a century… it’s quiet.

No snack requests.
No sibling arguments echoing from the living room.
No random sticky things left on the counter.

Just me, my lukewarm coffee (because some habits don’t change), and the sound of a house that finally exhaled after a whirlwind summer.

We made it. First day of school, officially in the books. Or at least, in the drop-off line.

This morning started like a scene from a family sitcom—one kid wide awake at 6:30 “just because,” the other wrapped in their blanket like a human burrito, refusing to believe the calendar. Somehow, despite the chaos, everyone was dressed, fed, brushed, and out the door with lunchboxes in hand and only one minor meltdown over sock texture. (Progress.)

We did the first day photo on the porch, naturally. And yes, I got misty behind my sunglasses—not because I’m sad, but because I swear they grew three inches overnight and suddenly look like little adults. Also, I may or may not have been up too late labeling every crayon in a 64-pack.

Drop-off was smooth. A little chaotic, but that’s par for the course when everyone’s trying to remember which door goes with which grade. I waved like a goof as they disappeared into the building, already caught up in the energy of new beginnings.

And now? I’m back home. The laptop’s open, the inbox is full, and the to-do list is already asking for a miracle. But before I dive in, I’m giving myself this moment to breathe, reset, and appreciate the stillness.

The truth is, I love being a working mom—but I also love when the house has that just-dropped-the-kids-off silence. It’s like a blank page waiting for a new story, and today, I’m ready to write it (right after I finish this coffee… hot).

To all the moms who survived summer, cheered at drop-off, or cried in the car—today, we won.

08/06/2025

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Which means today is: The. Last. Day. Of. Freedom.

And I’m not just talking about the kids.

I woke up this morning with the energy of someone who should be on top of everything… but instead stood in the kitchen wondering if I had actually ordered lunchboxes or just thought about ordering them in the middle of a meeting last week.

The kids were living their best lives—still in pajamas at 10:30, watching cartoons, halfway through a bag of chips like summer isn’t about to end in 24 hours. I let it slide. I mean… same.

But eventually, it was go time.

Outfits for the first day? Chosen. (After a spirited debate over whether Crocs are “formal enough.”)
Backpacks? Found. Emptied. Wiped out. (A single, unopened juice box from May survived. It did not make the cut.)
Supplies? Packed. Labeled. Triple-checked. I even sharpened the pencils. Who am I?

Between a couple Zoom calls and a minor printer jam that tried to ruin my life, I managed to sneak in a Target run for last-minute snacks, a celebratory dinner plan, and a strong coffee to get me through the evening. Multitasking level: Expert Mom Mode.

Dinner was easy tonight—grilled cheese and tomato soup, their favorite. Comfort food. And honestly, comforting for me too.

Afterward, we talked about what to expect tomorrow. Who’s nervous. Who’s excited. Who’s already got their eye on the prize (spoiler: it’s me—quiet house, regular routine, and maybe a lunch break without someone asking for a popsicle).

Lunches are packed. Clothes are laid out. Alarms are set. And as I sit here now, sipping tea while they drift off to sleep, I feel a calm I wasn’t expecting.

Tomorrow is the start of a new chapter. And as much as I’ll miss the lazy mornings and spontaneous lake days, I’m also ready for the rhythm again.

So tonight, we rest. And tomorrow, we rise—with fresh shoes, full backpacks, and probably at least one forgotten permission slip.

Let’s do this.

08/01/2025

We braved the school supply aisles, dodged chaos, picked the wrong folders, bought unnecessary snacks, and somehow came out feeling (mostly) prepared—because back-to-school readiness isn’t about perfection, it’s about showing up with love, laughter, and 36 pencils.

07/31/2025

It’s that magical time of year again—when moms across America arm themselves with supply lists and dive into the back-to-school aisles like it’s a competitive sport.

I waited until Thursday to tackle it. Why? Because I believed in my heart that the crowds would thin out. Spoiler: they did not.

We walked into the store like a well-meaning but under-caffeinated squad—one mom, two kids, and a supply list that may as well have been written in hieroglyphics. “Two plastic folders with brads, must be yellow.” Just yellow? The bin had red, blue, and something that looked suspiciously like neon corn. No yellow.

While I tried to decipher the logic behind 36 pencils and five boxes of tissues for one child, my kids were arguing over whether the puppy or the galaxy binder was more “academic.” I let them win that one—there are bigger battles ahead.

Meanwhile, I was toggling between answering emails on my phone and trying to calculate how many glue sticks we already have at home. (It’s always too many, and yet somehow never enough.)

The cart ended up full of most of what we needed, plus snacks we definitely didn’t, a “back-to-school” candle for me (self-care), and a water bottle that no one asked for but somehow made it in anyway. I call that a win.

Honestly, it wasn’t as chaotic as it could’ve been. We laughed a little. I snuck in a work call while waiting in the checkout line. And when we got home, the kids were excited to lay everything out like it was treasure.

We’re not 100% ready yet, but we’re close. The school list is mostly checked off, the freezer’s stocked with “first week back” survival meals, and I’m mentally preparing to trade summer sleep-ins for lunchboxes and alarms.

We’ve got this.

07/31/2025

Today we discovered the kids have outgrown everything but chaos, and while the closets are still a mess, at least one drawer is clean—and honestly, that feels like midweek victory in mom terms.