Last night wasn’t exactly restful. The baby had one of those agitated sleeps, the kind where they toss, turn, and fuss just enough to keep you in that half-asleep, half-alert state all night. I kept hoping for a stretch of deep sleep, but it never really came. By the time morning arrived, I felt like I had barely closed my eyes.

Of course, mornings don’t pause just because I’m tired. My eldest woke up ready for breakfast, only for us to discover that we were completely out of her favorite cereals. Cue disappointment and a small morning crisis. And as if to add a little extra chaos to the mix, our cat decided that this was the perfect moment to throw up a hairball—right in the middle of it all. Because why not?

To top it off, the weather is dull and foggy right now. Normally, I love fog. It has that cozy, moody charm that makes you want to curl up with a hot coffee and light some candles. But today, instead of feeling peaceful, it just makes me feel a little… off. Maybe it’s the exhaustion catching up with me, or maybe it is just one of those days where everything feels a bit heavier.

Still, as I sit here sipping my (much-needed) coffee, I remind myself that mornings like these are just part of the ride. The tiredness will pass, the cereal will be restocked, and the cat… well, she’ll probably do it again. But for now, I’ll take a deep breath, enjoy my coffee, and hope that tonight brings a little more sleep.

Here’s to better mornings ahead.

When we found out we were expecting our second daughter, the excitement was immediate. We had wanted this, dreamed about it, and imagined what it would be like to have another little girl in our family. But alongside the joy, a wave of worries slowly crept in.

What if the change was too big? What if our oldest struggled to adapt? For seven years, she had been our only one—our first everything. Would she feel left out? Would she resent the shift in attention? The thought of balancing my love and time between two children kept me up at night.

Pregnancy was filled with these what-ifs, but the moment our youngest was born, everything just clicked. Our oldest fell in love instantly. She became the most doting big sister, rushing home from school just to give her baby sister a hug. She wanted to include her in everything—storytime, playtime, even imaginary tea parties where the baby, of course, had the most special seat at the table.

Looking back, I realize I spent so much time worrying about something that never even became an issue. My love didn’t need to be divided; it simply grew. Our oldest didn’t feel replaced—she felt important, needed, and more loved than ever in her new role as a big sister.

The seven-year gap that once felt like a challenge turned out to be a gift. She is old enough to understand, to help, and to truly cherish this new bond. And as I watch them together, I know with certainty—this was always how it was meant to be.

Motherhood is full of doubts, but sometimes, the things we fear the most turn out to be the most beautiful surprises.

Some mornings feel like a scene from a heartwarming movie, soft baby giggles, the smell of fresh coffee, and my oldest twirling in the kitchen, excited for school. Other mornings? Let’s just say the coffee goes cold, the baby is teething, and my 7-year-old can’t find her favorite socks (even though they were right there yesterday).

Having two daughters is the most beautiful chaos I’ve ever known. My days are filled with cuddles, questions, and endless loads of laundry. My youngest is just starting solids, which means tiny hands reaching for mashed bananas and oatmeal, while my oldest is rushing out the door for school, piano lessons, or dance classes. Their needs are so different, yet somehow, we manage to weave it all together, one moment at a time.

Thankfully, I’m not doing it alone. My husband takes charge of breakfast on weekday mornings, which usually means a rotation of toast with something, eggs, or a bowl of cereal (and honestly, I’m just grateful someone else is handling the morning rush). He also takes our oldest to school and activities, and if work allows, he helps with homework in the evenings. It’s a team effort-some days more balanced than others-but we make it work.

Motherhood isn’t always picture-perfect. It’s juggling schedules, wiping sticky fingers, and answering why? a hundred times a day. It’s stepping on toys, finding crumpled drawings in the laundry, and sneaking a bite of chocolate in the pantry before anyone notices. But it’s also warm hugs after a long day, tiny hands reaching for mine, and the quiet moments when both girls are asleep, and I can finally breathe.

So, here’s to the moms in the thick of it – the ones balancing different needs, packing lunches, folding another round of laundry, and pouring that second (or third) cup of coffee. It’s messy, it’s exhausting, but oh, it’s so worth it.