From Bedtime Snuggles to Burnt Toast

After tucking my two little blessings into bed, I found myself lying there in the quiet... wide awake.

Not because the house was loud, but because my mind was.

It wasn’t empty—no, quite the opposite. It was filled with everything all at once.
Mom thoughts. Life thoughts. Random thoughts. Guilt. Gratitude. Worries. To-do lists.
Memories I didn’t ask to relive.
Questions I don’t have answers to.
And love. So much love. Overwhelming, aching love.

Sometimes I think being a mom means carrying 20 thoughts at the same time—
and still showing up with a smile in the morning.

And then morning comes.

I wake up feeling like I never truly rested.
Exhausted before my feet even hit the floor.
But I keep going—because that’s what we do.
Because two little faces are counting on me to show up.

The day starts, and that mental mountain grows: laundry, meals, emails, calls, errands.
But my youngest—who hasn’t started back at school yet—just wants me.
Not the multitasking, half-present version of me. Just me.
She wants to play Roblox together or make breakfast side by side.
She wants attention, connection. Eye contact.

And I try. I really do.
I play the game. I butter the toast she’s asked for (three times).
But my mind wanders—
to the email I forgot to answer,
the appointment I need to reschedule,
and the list I haven’t even written down yet.

And then the toast burns.

She laughs.
I sigh.
And we start over.

Because even in the mess and the mental chaos, I know these moments won’t last forever.
One day, I’ll miss burnt toast and Roblox in pajamas.

So I breathe. I apologize. I butter another slice.

And I try again.