This morning, something small—but important—shifted in me.
My 13-month-old, who’s usually up with the sunrise, was still sound asleep when our nanny arrived to take him to his little playgroup. Normally, he's awake and excited by 6:30am, but today he slept in deeply, his breathing slow and steady.
I hesitated. I could feel he needed more rest. But instead of listening to that gentle whisper of intuition, I followed the routine.
We woke him, rushed to dress him, brushed his teeth quickly. In the middle of it all, he tripped and bumped into a trolley in his room — startled, upset, crying. My heart sank. The morning had become exactly what I try to avoid: rushed, stressful, and disconnected.
Looking back now, I see how simple the better choice would have been — just letting him sleep. Letting the morning unfold slowly. Letting him be. The playgroup is optional, after all. There was no real reason to push, no urgency beyond the one I created in my own mind.
And yet, like so many of us do, I ignored the whisper of my inner knowing and defaulted to “the plan.”
Later, our nanny sent me sweet photos of him smiling and playing at group. He was fine. But still — that moment of rushing stayed with me. Because I knew it didn’t have to be that way.
A Reminder for All of Us
As mothers, we often carry invisible pressure to do things right — to follow schedules, be consistent, keep things “on track.” But babies and toddlers live in a different rhythm. They don’t follow clocks; they follow their bodies, their needs, their now.
Sometimes, our greatest act of care is not doing more — but doing less.Not pushing forward — but pausing.Not going with the plan — but going with our gut.
This morning reminded me that:
It’s okay to change course, even last-minute.
It’s okay to protect peace, even when it means saying no.
It’s okay to prioritize connection over consistency.
And most of all: It’s okay to slow down.
So if you ever find yourself in that space — hovering between what you “should” do and what your heart is quietly suggesting — I hope you choose the slower path. The softer one. The one led by love, not obligation.
You’re not falling behind. You’re showing up — fully and intuitively — for your child, and for yourself.
We don’t need perfect mornings. We just need presence.