I'm a Morning Mom - Her View From Home

The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

I’m a good Morning Mom.

Morning Mom gets up around 5:30 a.m. and spends a quiet hour reading or writing or praying or studying.

Morning Mom packs lunches and fills water bottles and signs planners then wakes children quietly and lovingly with backrubs and kisses on the temple.

Morning Mom helps find lost articles of clothing without a fuss and makes oatmeal or scrambled eggs or toasts English muffins and serves them with fruit.

Morning Mom carries on light conversation in the car and notices the sunrise over the mountains then sends kids off to school with well wishes and forehead kisses.

Morning Mom plays Play-Doh or builds couch cushion forts or teaches her five-year-old to read in between the breakfast dishes and a load of laundry or two.

I LOVE Morning Mom.

Morning Mom is patient and loving and kind and fun and efficient and sweet and exactly the kind of Mom I always hoped to be.

I wish I could be Morning Mom ALL DAY.

But then something happens.

The winds change.

The tides turn.

It’s lunchtime.

And lunchtime means it’s practically naptime which means it’s almost time to get the big kids from school which means it’s nearly dinnertime which means I have to drive kids around like a taxi driver to basketball or soccer practice or guitar practice and back again which means it’s basically bedtime.

And then I become Bedtime Mom.

Bedtime Mom is TIRED.

Bedtime Mom has already worked a 16-hour day and she just needs everyone to get in the shower and brush their teeth already.

Bedtime Mom grumbles and huffs when everyone whines about a snack before bed so she throws a few chocolate chips in a bowl and calls it good.

Bedtime Mom doesn’t like to help with pull-ups or PJs or :Where’s my blankies??” or “I NEED my babies!” because she CAN’T DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE!!

Bedtime Mom has absolutely no tolerance for sibling squabbles. None. Just NO!!!

Bedtime Mom is snippy and impatient and worn out and counting the minutes until she can go get in the tub for some quiet time so she shushes a lot and says things like ‘LAAAAY DOOOOWWWN!!!’

I always feel a little guilty about Bedtime Mom.

But here’s the deal.

I love her, too.

Bedtime Mom stays the course. She has stamina and dedication.

Bedtime Mom reads books and rubs backs and whispers prayers and kisses temples and steals a few whiffs of the tops of heads as she turns out the light to “Love you . . . see you in the morning” before she collapses on the couch for some ice cream knowing in just a few short hours she’ll be up to do it all over again.

Bedtime Mom has grit.

And that’s exactly the kind of Mom I want to be!

Originally published on Ordinary on Purpose, by Mikala Albertson

You may also like:

How to Put Your Children to Bed in 46 Easy Steps

I Want to be a Perfect Mom—But I’m Not

Why I Love Bedtime

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Mikala Albertson

Mikala is a wife, family practice doctor turned mostly stay-at-home mom to five kids, and writer. She is the author of Ordinary On Purpose: Surrendering Perfect and Discovering Beauty Amid the Rubble available wherever books are sold. Mikala writes to give you permission to release your grip on all the should-dos and have-tos and comparisons and “I’m not measuring up”s and just be free to live your life. THIS life, however imperfect. In this body with these relationships in this house at this job with these parents and these circumstances. Your ONE precious, beautiful life! Join her on Facebook and Instagram.

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen

Ten boy eating breakfast at kitchen counter

T-minus 44 days until a new beginning- Math has never been my strong suit or my favorite subject, but it will be about 19 years spent rising and trying to shine in our house. Nineteen years of prepping one, two, or all three of our sons to get up and ready for school. Nineteen years of making breakfast. Nineteen years of making lunches. For those of you in the thick of it right now, you know exactly what I mean. I think my husband Steve and I have it down to a science now. If we had to do it...

Keep Reading

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

In: Living, Motherhood

During my oldest daughter’s freshman year of college, I started being haunted by a recurring dream of an old-fashioned suitcase—one of those hard-sided ones that’s as big as they come. In the dream, when I open the suitcase, it’s overflowing with clothing, shoes, and all kinds of stuff that belongs to me and each of my three daughters. Everything in the suitcase is all jumbled together. Nobody else in the dream is worried about sorting through everything, but I am totally stressed about it. To top it all off, I have to deal with this suitcase while preparing for a...

Keep Reading

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

In: Motherhood

Woman sitting with coffee cup and book on bed

I am a proper mom. Not fancy, not prim—practical. I am dressed for the time of day, always. That is simply who I am. Except for this morning. This morning I was in a towel, bracing the bathroom counter, writhing in pain, and trying not to scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors. I had seen a specialist just the day before. He’d said I needed six weeks to heal before they could do further exploration. What he hadn’t said—what I hadn’t understood—was how much the healing itself would hurt. My 23-year-old daughter, Aislyn, found me like that. Panicked. Half-dressed....

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

Good Mothers Bake from Scratch, and Other Lies I’ve Believed

In: Motherhood

I am standing at the kitchen counter, spooning banana mix into a muffin tin, when my daughter makes a proposal. “How about dis . . . ?” Presley begins, pausing for dramatic effect. “How about I put four chocolate chips on each muffin because dat’s how old I am?” I smile at her logic. Once every pink polka-dotted liner is filled with batter and topped with exactly four chocolate chips, I place both tins on the middle rack and set a timer. Presley runs out of the room and returns with her plastic step stool, placing it directly in front...

Keep Reading

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

In: Living, Motherhood

Little boy holding out dandelion bouquet

As moms, we categorize everything. Girl mom. Boy mom. Wine mom. Outdoor mom. Farm mom. City mom. Now there’s been an uptick in social media trends about exposing our girls to worldly and fancy experiences so someday they’re “not impressed by your dusty son.” I won the parenting jackpot (in my humble opinion) and have an older daughter and a younger son. He’s five. Not a grown man making real-world decisions. Not a college kid learning how to adult. He’s five. He loves dinosaurs and Mario. His big sissy and his Great Dane. He is incapable of cruelty and is...

Keep Reading

These Little Moments Are Everything

In: Motherhood

Mother embracing young child who is kissing her cheek

I almost missed it, my little one. How your eyebrows lift in quiet concentration as you carefully place each block, adding a new wall to your tiger castle. The way you say “scoop over, mom” and shuffle closer to me until our legs touch. “Just one second, bud.” The mantra of all busy moms. I almost missed your blonde hair flying wild as you bounce on the trampoline, that belly laugh that makes the whole world feel soft. I almost missed it. How you close your eyes as you crack the biggest, cheekiest smile when I tickle your belly, giggling...

Keep Reading

Finding a Way Back to Intimacy When it Feels All But Lost

Marriage

Finding a Way Back to Intimacy When it Feels All But Lost

Good News, Mom: Psychologists Find Toddlers Who Throw Tantrums Get Rich Later in Life

Kids

I’m a Morning Mom

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Mikala Albertson

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

Good Mothers Bake from Scratch, and Other Lies I’ve Believed

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

These Little Moments Are Everything

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

I’m a Morning Mom

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

Good Mothers Bake from Scratch, and Other Lies I’ve Believed

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

These Little Moments Are Everything

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like