Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

The light of the day is already starting to grow shorter. The shadows are lengthening, the evenings are cooler. Summer is fading and back-to-school signs have begun to fill the aisles at the store. It’s time to think about returning to schedules, early mornings, and busy days. Every age is different, but always I am struck with the brevity of our time, the quickening of the years. I’m not ready to say goodbye to our lazy mornings, where we sit in the old rockers on the back deck, little hands grip a mug of cocoa while I wake in the steam of a hot cup of coffee. Their legs drape over the arm of the chair and suddenly rivalry and angst are quieted while we share our hopes and dreams. In this quiet start of the day, the shortness of youth is a painful sting. These are the moments that fill my mother heart, the luxury of space to daydream, to connect, to be together.

I try not to look at the tower of binders, backpacks, and pens at the grocery store. I push my cart quickly past. Already the emails from the school sharing supply lists, remind me I need to start shopping. I know we should go to bed earlier and prepare for the schedules that will dictate most of our days this year. I’m just not ready. I want to stay up too late while we watch old movies under the blanket fort that’s been holding court in our living room for too many days. The lazy testament to a lack of expectation in our summer routine.

The hot months are the essence of connection, the pursuit of fun, the whimsy of sleeping in, and dance parties in the kitchen. It is walking to the park early in the morning to beat the heat. The times we have stayed at the lake until the sun slinks below the mountains and we trudge back to the car weary and happy. It is the filling up of hearts that miss out on necessary connection when we are controlled by our commitments and not our need to cuddle and read together at two in the afternoon.

I already know that the moment autumn hits, I’ll be ready to wake with my kids and I’ll thrill in the magic of the leaves falling and their expected agenda. I’m still just clinging to these last days of summer. I want to cram in all of the wonder and drink up the last dregs of joyful goodness until I’m flooded with the sensations of baby arms holding around my neck, head resting on my shoulder, children who still need and enjoy all of their time with me.

Life changes when they go to school. They shirk my kisses, run without looking back to catch up with their friends. They grow up. Their hearts create distance. It’s important and necessary to facilitate this separation, they don’t belong to me. My job is to help them become the amazing, independent and strong people that I believe them to be.

When they were tiny, I was overwhelmed by their needs, the expectation upon me to do it all. Now they have become my best partners. My favorite people to scheme with. They love to talk about their dreams and they share their hopes to train dolphins, live in the Outback, or maybe just work at a smoothie bar where all the drinks will be free. They’re getting older. The marks in my closet evidence of their recent growth spurts. These are the seasons of life that I’m clinging to, the remembrances of which will comfort me as I age. The memory of long days, quiet nights. When the only thing we had to do was imagine tomorrow, while enjoying the rest that filled today.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Cherylyn Petersen

Cherylyn Petersen is a certified holistic health coach and mother of three. Through trial and error she’s learned that despite her best efforts, perfection is an illusion. Therefore, she focuses her time on enjoying life and pursuing authenticity. It lends to a messy and joy filled existence, where hearts and connection are the primary goal. When it all gets to be too much, coffee and Jesus are the best help. She shares tips for healthy living and emotional health at her website,

Please Stop Comparing Kids

In: Motherhood
Mom and kids in sunlight

Let me begin with this important message: Please refrain from comparing children, especially when it pertains to their growth and development. If you happen to notice differences in a child’s height, weight, or appetite compared to another, that’s perfectly fine. Your observations are appreciated. However, I kindly request that you avoid openly discussing these comparisons as such conversations can inadvertently distress a parent who may already be grappling with concerns about their child’s growth trajectory. Trust me, I say this from personal experience. Recently, at a dinner gathering, a couple casually remarked that someone’s 1-year-old child appeared larger both in...

Keep Reading

This Will Not Last Forever

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman looking at sunset

“This will not last forever,” I wrote those words on the unfinished walls above my daughter’s changing table. For some reason, it got very tiring to change her diapers. Nearly three years later, the words are still there though the changing table no longer is under them. While my house is still unfinished so I occasionally see those words, that stage of changing diapers for her has moved on. She did grow up, and I got a break. Now I do it for her baby brother. I have been reminding myself of the seasons of life again. Everything comes and...

Keep Reading

You Made Me Love Christmas

In: Motherhood
Family in pajamas near Christmas tree, color photo

Hi kids, this is a thank you note of sorts . . . I’m about to tell you something strange. Something you may not “get” yet, but I hope you do eventually. I used to dread Christmas. I know, isn’t that weird? Most kids and a lot of adults have countdowns and decorations and music, but I had a countdown in my mind of when it would be over. To me, it wasn’t a happy time. From the age of about eight (right about where you all are now) Christmas, for me, became like a job of sorts. Long before...

Keep Reading

She is an Anonymom

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother standing at sink holding a baby on her hip

She stands alone in the church kitchen, frantically scrubbing pots and pans while the grieving huddle around the fellowship hall, and she slips out the back door before anyone comes in. She is an anonymom. She gets out of her car and picks up the trash thrown into the ditch alongside the country road. She is an anonymom. She sits on the park bench, watching her children play. In the meantime, she continually scans the whole playground, keeping track of everyone’s littles, because that is what moms do. She is an anonymom. RELATED: Can We Restore “the Village” Our Parents...

Keep Reading

I Come Alive at Christmas

In: Motherhood
Kitchen decorated for Christmas

It’s time again. Time for the lights and the trees and candy canes and tiny porcelain village homes. It’s time to shake off all that this year has thrown at me and come alive again. My favorite time of year is here and it’s time to make some magic. My mom started the magic of Christmas for me when I was little, and I was infatuated with the joy that it brought to so many people. Loved ones come together and everything sparkles and people who don’t normally come to church are willing to join us in the pews. Everything...

Keep Reading

Brothers Fight Hard and Love Harder

In: Kids, Motherhood
Two boys play outside, one lifting the other on his back

The last few years have been a whirlwind. My head has sometimes been left spinning; we have moved continents with three boys, three and under at the time. Set up home and remained sufficiently organized despite the complete chaos to ensure everyone was where they were meant to be on most days. Living in a primarily hockey town, the winters are filled with coffee catch-ups at the arena, so it was no surprise when my youngest declared his intention to play hockey like his school friends. Fully aware that he had never held a hockey stick or slapped a puck,...

Keep Reading

Stop Putting an Expiration Date on Making Memories

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother and son in small train ride

We get 12 times to play Santa (if we’re lucky). This phrase stopped my scroll on a Sunday evening. I had an idea of the direction this post was going but I continued on reading. 12 spring breaks 12 easter baskets 20 tooth fairy visits 13 first days of school 1 first date 1-2 proms 1-2 times of seeing them in their graduation cap and gown 18 summers under the same roof And so on and so on. It was essentially another post listing the number of all the monumental moments that we, Lord willing, will get to experience with our...

Keep Reading

Connecting with My Teen Son Will Always Be Worth the Wait

In: Motherhood, Teen
Teen boy standing near lamppost, color photo

So much of parenting teens is just waiting around, whether it’s in the car picking them up, reading in waiting rooms now that they are old enough to visit the dentist alone, and quite honestly, a lot of sitting around at home while they cocoon in their rooms or spend hours FaceTiming friends. Sure, you have your own life. You work, run a household, have your own friends, and plan solo adventures to show your teen that you’re not just waiting around for them all the time. That you are cool with them not needing you so much. But deep...

Keep Reading

This Is Why Moms Ask for Experience Gifts

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Mother and young daughter under Christmas lights wearing red sweaters

When a mama asks for experience gifts for her kids for Christmas, please don’t take it as she’s ungrateful or a Scrooge. She appreciates the love her children get, she really does. But she’s tired. She’s tired of the endless number of toys that sit in the bottom of a toy bin and never see the light of day. She’s tired of tripping over the hundreds of LEGOs and reminding her son to pick them up so the baby doesn’t find them and choke. She’s tired of having four Elsa dolls (we have baby Elsa, Barbie Elsa, a mini Elsa,...

Keep Reading

6 Things You Can Do Now to Help Kids Remember Their Grandparents

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Motherhood
Grandfather dances with granddaughter in kitchen

A month ago, my mom unexpectedly passed away. She was a vibrant 62-year-old grandma to my 4-year-old son who regularly exercised and ate healthy. Sure, she had some health scares—breast cancer and two previous brain aneurysms that had been operated on successfully—but we never expected her to never come home after her second surgery on a brain aneurysm. It has been devastating, to say the least, and as I comb through pictures and videos, I have gathered some tips for other parents of young kids to do right now in case the unexpected happens, and you’re left scrambling to never...

Keep Reading