As a mama of two active boys, I had spent years waking just a few minutes before them and kicking off my day at full speed. There would be waves of me waking up at 5am, sitting in a dark kitchen and sipping my coffee before hearing “mom” called out, but it was difficult. At the time, it didn’t feel like enough. And even more it seemed like they would notice my being awake and would wake up early to crawl onto my lap during my precious time.
It wasn’t until post-pandemic and my breaking point that I really started to value a slow morning. Over the last four-ish years, I have still struggled with waking up before the boys, prioritizing sleep at times and those early morning cuddles when they just want to be closer. I know this time is limited, these boys won’t wake in the night for snuggles nor will they want to be held on the sofa as we watch movies for forever.
This week, I reclaimed my mornings.
Soft, slow, intentional.
Romanticizing the day to day.
Stove top espresso, hummingbird chases, and poetry.
Lots of poetry.
Sunday Funday
We fight on the car ride over to the bookshop.
They want more screen time and I am overwhelmed with the flood of info about boys and video games. About how too much screen time makes you an insensitive man, a Peter Pan maybe, and potentially isolates them and could lead to something darker.
I can’t tell them any of this, of course and I know that I also have my own desires for them: to be more creative, to read more books, to play more outside.
I have to remember that these are the things I want for them and that if I have done my “job,” they will know themselves thoroughly enough to know what they love without too much influence from anyone else.
So when we order our snacks and pull up our seats, A shuffles the Uno No Mercy cards and deals them out. We play a few rounds and there is laughter, loud and maybe a little too much, but why should we keep our joy soft on a Sunday.
We play. We snack.
We spend this morning in our little bubble, the three of us.
There are questions about others and how they will spend the day.
Do I worry we have way too much screen time? Yes.
Do I trust that we can also infuse more actual play? Yes, I believe I can.
And in the meantime, I better get better at this Uno version.
I’m getting my ass kicked!
Quiet morning
These first few weeks of summer break have been lovely, but I have noticed that I feel exhausted and that I feel a stronger need for alone time. Sure, Summer schedule allows me that alone time on certain days, but I have felt like I haven’t been using “my time well.”
I need to start my day in quiet.
Sip my coffee alone and watch the sunrise.
Maybe scribble some thoughts down, maybe just be still and silent.
At sunrise, I make a little coffee and throw a sweater over my pjs.
The hummingbirds.
Eight or nine of them.
I grab the Nikon and see what I can do.
I’m not that good… yet.
But I captured a couple good ones and more than that, my cup was fuller. I was able to be more present and show up for them in the ways they need (boundaries and fun mom).
Slow, quiet mornings. Nobody else awake.
I set the camera down when I hear footsteps behind me.
A sits next to me, no words needed and rests his head on my shoulder.
I sip my coffee. I grab the camera.
This is what life is made of, little moments. The epitome of tiny joys.
Meditation in the Sunshine
The sun has barely risen and I throw on some clothes, set the stove espresso on to pour over the fresh whipped cream I made the night before for our angel food cake and strawberries. While I wait, I prop myself onto the floor to breathe in silence. Eyes closed.
Inhale 1-2-3-4-5.
Pause.
Exhale 1-2-3-4-5-6-7.
Pause.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The percolator gurgles.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I choose the mug that makes me feel good.
I sip it as I slip outside. The sunshine hits my face.
I close my eyes.
Inhale 1-2-3-4-5.
Pause.
Exhale 1-2-3-4-5-6-7.
Pause.
This routine is as familiar as my reflection in the mirror.
It may not be an every day thing, but my meditation ritual is back on.
Solstice Morning
I don’t need the alarm, because I am already awake at 5:15 am.
The sun has yet to rise and the house is quiet, the boys still asleep.
Matcha and water, a little bit of light. I log in.
It’s so good to see B’s face!! I have missed this circle, these humans.
The words pour on the page and I feel at home.
This was what I needed on this Solstice: community, creativity, joy.
Here’s a little bit of what I wrote:
strawberries plucked from the wam sunny spot in which they grew-- I bite into the soft flesh of the red body. a dribble down my chin of the unexpected juiciness. the sweetness lingers on my tongue all day.
Not Morning
(ok, so this isn’t slow morning related, not really).
They're burnt out, not as in tired of the day to day, but maybe that is true.
We hide from the heat, we go out for a swim. Same thing day after day.
We decide we’re going to get out of the house, head out for pizza.
It’s busy and I forgot the Uno cards in the car. No one wants to go get them.
I know it won’t be too long before pizza is at the table, but nonetheless we are the kinda of people who play games while we wait.
The waitress comes by and we chat for a moment or two.
”Let me know if you need anything.”
A points to the ticket for our cake and she nods to him “Yea, you tell me when you’re ready.” He says a quick, quiet “thanks.”
They eat like they are starving (every meal is like this now, they’re growing) and it’s moments like these that I think of my brother and step brother. How at times it felt like they ate more than the rest of us combined.
Their relationship (my brother and step brother) is what I often think of when I look at my boys: competition, wrestling, and a constant seesaw of best of friends and I wish this a-hole was never born. It’s not quite that either though.
Bear looks up to A and my brothers being the same age only a few months apart felt a deep competition. My brother being my mom’s favorite (it was an actual running joke in our house growing up).
I try to show no favorites.
Cuddles for everyone, compliments for each on their own specific strengths.
I only have an external experience of boyhood and all that it includes, but I’d say that eating pizza and waiting for confetti cake is a pretty good memory to have, even if we have no games to distract us for the 6.5 minutes before our food arrives.
Five Invitations/
five questions I asked myself this week:
What am I rushing through so I can get to the “good” stuff?
What ways have I changed already this year?
Where am I blocking my own way?
What is my wild/natural state?
What do I want to put energy into this second half of the year?
Tell me dear reader, what were your tiny joys for the week?
xo~liz
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