Hey everyone, it’s been a minute.

If you’ve been wondering where I disappeared to, the answer is… deep in the trenches of parenting. About three weeks ago, my 8-month-old made a bold and unexpected decision: no more formula. Just like that. Cold turkey. Cue the panic.

I tried everything from new bottles, different nipples, sippy cups, straws, to even switching formulas. Nothing worked. She had made up her mind. So, suddenly, I was parenting a baby who was relying entirely on solids. Three meals a day, one or two snacks, and a whole lot of Googling “how to get calcium into a baby who won’t drink milk.”

It’s been a wild adjustment. From planning and prepping balanced meals to navigating grocery trips with laser focus on iron-rich foods, it’s been intense. But here’s the silver lining: she now sleeps 12 hours straight at night. No night feeds, no wake ups,  just blissful baby sleep. (Yes, I knock on wood every time I say that out loud.)

Now that we’ve finally found a rhythm and settled into our new normal, I’m back, and excited to share more soon.

Thanks for sticking around!

Some of my favorite childhood memories are from quiet summer afternoons, curled up with a book while the world outside baked in the heat. Especially on those sweltering days when it was too hot to play outside, you’d find me tucked away in my room, windows wide open in a desperate attempt to catch a breeze. We didn’t have air conditioning, but I hardly noticed. I was lost in the world of encyclopedias.

Yes, encyclopedias. Big, heavy, beautifully illustrated hardcover volumes that smelled like ink and time. I devoured them. There was always something new to learn: the wonders of the Earth, the vastness of the universe, the mystery of the weather, or the strange and fascinating creatures that lived deep in the oceans or high in the trees. I didn’t realize it then, but those books shaped my curiosity and my love of learning.

Tomorrow, my eldest has to present a school project about Antarctica. As we talked through the icy facts and she practiced her lines, I suddenly remembered one of my favorite encyclopedias, filled with pages on the poles, glaciers, penguins, and explorers, still sitting on a shelf at my mom’s house. That memory came rushing back like a breeze through an open window, stirring up all those sweet summer afternoons I spent reading for hours.

So, I’ve decided on a little weekend project: I’m going to pick up a small bookcase from IKEA and create a cozy reading nook for my daughters. I’ll bring home those encyclopedias from my mom’s house and pass on the magic,  the sense of wonder, discovery, and quiet joy that comes from getting lost in a good book.

Here’s to old books, new traditions, and the simple beauty of learning something just because you’re curious.

A few weeks ago, my 7 year old daughter received a water bottle from her grandfather. It was exactly the kind of thing a little girl would love, covered in glitter and with Disney princesses, and complete with a built-in straw. She was thrilled and wanted to use it right away.

But when it came to taking it to school, she hesitated. She asked me if she should bring it, not because she didn’t like it, but because she was worried her classmates would think it was “too childish.”

I was caught off guard. She’s in first grade. A child. When did seven years old become too old for Disney princesses and glitter?

It broke my heart a little to see her wrestle with this decision. She genuinely loved the bottle, but in her mind, what others thought of it, and by extension, her-suddenly mattered.

I did my best to explain that if she liked it, that was all that should count. I told her that what makes her happy is more important than what anyone else might say. That confidence in being yourself is a superpower, and that no one gets to decide what’s “too childish” for her.

After our talk, she decided to take it to school. That afternoon, she came home beaming. Not only did no one make fun of her, but the girls in her class actually liked her bottle. Since then, she’s carried it with her every day, including on her school trip today.

I was relieved, of course, but also unsettled. Because this time, the story had a happy ending. But what about next time? What about the times when the reaction isn’t positive?

I keep wondering: When did childhood start coming with an expiration date?

Why is it that, even at seven years old, kids are already measuring themselves against some unspoken standard of what’s “cool” and what’s “babyish”? And how do we, as parents, help them hold on to what they love without feeling like they have to dim their spark to fit in?

I don’t have all the answers, but I know this: I want my daughter to be able to love what she loves, unapologetically. Whether it’s princesses and glitter today or something else tomorrow, I want her to feel confident enough to choose for herself, not based on fear of judgment.

So, I remind her, again and again, that being herself is enough. That liking something isn’t embarrassing. That growing up doesn’t mean giving up joy.

Because honestly? The world could use a little more sparkle. And I hope she never stops carrying hers proudly.

Some days are so packed with tasks that writing feels impossible. By the time I finally sat down, I almost convinced myself to skip it. But then, I thought about a dear friend who recently read my last post and shared their thoughts with me. That simple gesture meant the world to me. It reminded me why I write, not for perfection, but for connection.

So, here I am, squeezing in these words before the day completely slips away.

My morning started with my husband taking our eldest to school while I stayed home with the baby. I decided it was the perfect time to deep clean the house, a rare opportunity since we had someone coming to pick up the carpets for a proper cleanse. That meant pulling out the vacuum and steamer and tackling every corner. Of course, the baby had other plans. I lost count of how many times I was interrupted, but thank god for daytime naps! Those precious pockets of silence allowed me to actually get things done.

As if that wasn’t enough, tomorrow is my eldest’s school trip, which meant outfit planning. The weather is unpredictable, so I had to make sure she was dressed appropriately. Naturally, both of her wind jackets looked like she had been rolling in the mud, so that meant another round of laundry. Thankfully, they dry quickly, especially since I don’t own a dryer!

Now I feel a bit exhausted. The baby is finally asleep, and I still have things left on my to-do list. But instead of letting the day end without writing, I chose to show up, even if just for a few minutes.

If you’re reading this, I’d love to hear from you, how do you manage all the daily chores without feeling overwhelmed? Do you have routines, little hacks, or do you just take it one moment at a time? 

Today has been one of those gray, overcast days, the kind where the sky is thick with clouds, making everything feel a little muted and slow. There’s a slight chill in the air,  that lingers just enough to make you pull your sweater a little tighter.

After enjoying my second coffee of the day (because one is never enough), I decided to sit down and write. It’s a quiet moment, and I should be savoring it, but sometimes, when I’m too relaxed, my mind decides that’s the perfect time to stir up anxiety. It’s like when everything feels too still, too calm, my brain fills the space with unnecessary worries. I’ve learned how to manage it over the years, and for the most part, it doesn’t control me anymore. But every now and then, no matter how much I try to push it away, it still finds a way in.

Today was one of those days. But luckily, my husband noticed. He picked up on it right away and found ways to distract me, gently nudging me out of my head and back into the present moment. And now, I feel better. It’s a reminder that even on the days when anxiety sneaks in, I’m not alone in dealing with it.

Other than that, life is good. We’ve decided to bring a little more color into our home—literally—by getting a kumquat tree! It’s a small thing, but there’s something special about adding a new plant to the family. There’s comfort in watching something grow, in nurturing something that brings beauty into your space.

So, despite the gray sky and the brief battle with my thoughts, today has been a good day. And sometimes, that’s enough. 

Let me know how you deal with anxiety and what’s something that makes you feel better. 

Well, that was a longer break than I intended! Life has a way of pulling me in different directions, and somewhere along the way, my little blog took a backseat. But now I’m finally back, and hopefully, I can be more consistent moving forward.

The world outside is changing, and with it, so is my daily rhythm. The weather is getting warmer, the days are stretching longer, and for the first time after the long winter, there’s actually something to do in the garden. It feels good to be outside again, getting my hands in the dirt, watching everything slowly wake up.

Of course, with the return of outdoor adventures also comes the return of less-welcome guests…ticks. Living in a wooded area, this is always a concern, and unfortunately, my eldest daughter brought one home. So now she’s on prophylactic antibiotics as a precaution. It’s a reminder that while spring is beautiful, it also comes with its own set of challenges.

On the brighter side, my seven month old is finally sleeping through the night, 7 PM to 7 AM. I can’t even put into words what a difference this makes. Mornings feel lighter, coffee tastes sweeter, and our daily walks are no longer about survival but about enjoyment. There’s something about stepping outside, feeling the sun on my face, and breathing in fresh air that makes everything feel a little easier.

So, here’s to new beginnings, both in nature and in this little space on the internet. I’m back, and I can’t wait to share more with you all.

Yesterday, I didn’t write. I was absolutely drained.

I can’t even explain why. It was one of those days where, instead of feeling energized after a long walk in nature with my baby daughter, I came back more exhausted than before. I made lunch, tackled the never-ending laundry (does it ever stop?), and thankfully, my husband was able to pick up our eldest from school, one less thing for me to do.

After we ate, our eldest went out to play with her friends, and the three of us—hubby, baby, and I—went for another walk. Normally, I love our evening walks. The fresh air, the golden light, the quiet moments together. But yesterday, by the time the sun was setting, I could barely function. It felt strange, almost unsettling, to be that tired.

Thankfully, my husband stepped in. He helped our eldest with her homework, took charge of the bedtime routines, and let me just be, something I didn’t realize I needed until that moment.

Today, I feel better. Still a slight headache lingering, but hopefully, it’ll be gone by the time I finish my coffee. And today, I am writing.

You know that feeling when you step outside, take a deep breath, and know the seasons have changed? That was today. After what felt like an endless winter, the sun is shining, the sky is a perfect bright blue, and the air is warm and fresh. It finally looks and feels like spring!

My eldest is off at school, my husband is at work, and as soon as I finish up the laundry and get meals sorted for the day, I have the perfect plan-a long, slow walk with my baby girl. One of the things I love most about where we live is how close we are to the forest. Being able to step into nature, hear the birds chirping, and watch the trees and flowers come back to life after the colder months is something I never take for granted.

It’s such a beautiful day, and I can’t wait to get outside and enjoy it. What a perfect way to start the week! Hope it’s just as lovely wherever you are.

It’s another rainy Sunday, which means we’re staying in. Not that I mind, cozy weekends at home are kind of my favorite. And at least there’s hope on the horizon, next week is finally looking like spring!

Like most Sundays, the morning starts with the smell of fresh coffee filling the kitchen and my husband taking over breakfast duty. He’s flipping omelets while I sip my coffee and try to wake up properly. Honestly, this little tradition makes Sundays feel special, even if the rest of the day is looking pretty typical.

For one, we’ve got homework at the kitchen table because, despite all my encouragement yesterday, my daughter decided she was absolutely not in the mood to do it. So now, here we are. I’m mentally preparing for the battle ahead while she pretends not to hear me telling her it’s time to get started.

The little one, on the other hand, is in a much better mood today. Still no tiny teeth in sight, but she’s drooling on everything like she’s about to grow a whole set overnight. At least she’s happy for now.

Since we’re stuck inside, my daughter has requested blueberry cupcakes, so that’s on the list for later. I can’t say no to a good baking session (or to cupcakes), so that should make for a sweet end to the weekend. And then, just like that, Monday will roll in, and we’ll be back to the usual routine.

For now, I’m soaking in the slow moments, coffee in hand, rain tapping on the windows, and my family gathered around. It may be a simple Sunday, but these are the days that feel the best.

What’s your Sunday looking like? Cozy inside or out and about?

Today is March 1st, a special day where I live—it marks the beginning of spring. It’s a beautiful tradition where women and girls receive small symbolic gifts and flowers, a way of celebrating renewal, warmth, and the promise of brighter days ahead. I’ve always loved this day, the feeling of joy in the air, the little red-and-white trinkets exchanged as tokens of luck. But this year, as I take it all in, I can’t help but wonder: where does time go?

In just two weeks, my baby will turn seven months old. And exactly one month later, my eldest will turn eight years old. How is that even possible? The contrast between them is so striking, yet in my heart, they are both still my tiny babies. It’s bittersweet. I love watching them grow, seeing their personalities bloom, but a part of me wants to pause time, just for a little while, to hold on to these fleeting moments before they slip away.

And while we are celebrating spring, the world outside tells a different story. It looks more like mid-November—gray skies, cold air, and snow still covering the ground. No sign of warmth, no hint of blooming flowers, just winter stubbornly refusing to leave. Maybe, in a way, that’s fitting. A reminder that time moves at its own pace, no matter how much we wish we could slow it down, hold on, or skip ahead.

But for now, I’ll embrace the traditions, the gifts, the love, and the passing of time—even if I still don’t understand how it moves so fast.