As we approach Mother’s Day, I’ve been reflecting on what this season of motherhood feels like for me. Not just the sweet milestones or camera-worthy moments — but the quiet, gritty, beautiful truth of it all.

I’m writing this during Coco’s nap time, which in itself feels like a major milestone. Just a few months ago, I was on high alert during every nap, never knowing when she’d wake up needing mama. Sleep (or the lack of it) has probably been the most challenging part of motherhood for all of us. And right now — after so many sleepless nights and short, unpredictable naps — something seems to be clicking. I’m holding onto it and giving thanks for right now.

One of the biggest shifts recently was weaning our night feeds. After 17 months of breastfeeding — day and night — my mama intuition told me it was time. Those quiet nighttime feeds were so tender, just the two of us in the dark, but I could feel how much it was impacting everyone’s sleep. With a gentle nudge from my own mom and support from Aaron for those middle-of-the-night wake-ups, we made the shift. After just a couple of nights, she started sleeping through again. Sweet, sweet relief.

If motherhood has taught me anything, it’s that everything is always shifting. Staying flexible and surrendering control is the only way I don’t lose my cool. (Side note: this nap ended up being over two hours — something I honestly never thought we’d get to! And here we are. I wrote most of this post, folded laundry, cleaned up the kitchen and playroom, and got a 20-minute workout in. If nothing else, motherhood teaches you efficiency and prioritization!)

Coco just turned 18 months and it truly feels like time is flying. This age is so fun — she’s doing so much, communicating more every day, totally in awe of the world, and obsessed with being outside (just like her mama). Of course, there are more meltdowns too… and moments where I really have to regulate myself so I can stay calm and co-regulate with her.

Because we’re all sleeping better, I’ve been able to start waking up 30–60 minutes before Coco, and it’s been a game-changer. That quiet time for a quick workout, a simple skincare moment, or just to ease into the day makes all the difference. I also hosted an event this past weekend, and it lit me up in the best way — a beautiful reminder of the work I love, without sacrificing time with my family. Coco and Aaron came by at the end, and it was the sweetest way to wrap up a really special day.

The Quiet Heroism of Everyday Mothers

There’s a kind of quiet heroism in motherhood that doesn’t often get seen. It’s not flashy or loud. It’s not always celebrated. But it’s there — steady and strong — in the hundreds of small choices and unseen actions we make every day.

It’s in the way we carry the mental load of everyone’s needs and moods. In the countless meals made, snacks packed, diapers changed, and schedules remembered. It’s the way we keep showing up — even when we’re touched out, tired, or feeling like we have nothing left to give.

It’s rocking a baby through a fever while silently praying. It’s answering “mama?” for the thousandth time with softness (or trying to). It’s doing the inner work — regulating our nervous systems, re-parenting ourselves, letting go of perfectionism — so we can be the calm in their storm.

This kind of love and labor is invisible to the outside world, but it builds a foundation our children will stand on for the rest of their lives. And that? That is sacred work.

What I’m Learning in This Season

Motherhood has been the most humbling, heart-opening journey — and it keeps teaching me every single day. In this season, here’s what I’m learning (and re-learning):

1. The little moments are the big ones.

The snuggles after a nap, the way she says “hi mama” in the morning, the dance parties in the kitchen — they’re the magic.

2. Regulating myself is the real work.

I used to think motherhood was about managing my child’s behavior. Now I know it’s mostly about managing my own nervous system.

3. Surrender is a strength.

Things don’t go according to plan (ever). And when I let go of the grip, things flow with more ease, more joy, more grace.

4. I can still be me.

Even as I give so much to my family, I’m allowed to take up space — to create, to work, to rest, to pursue what lights me up.

5. Nothing lasts forever — and that’s a gift.

The hard phases pass. The beautiful ones shift. It’s all a reminder to stay present and soak it in, even when it’s messy.

A Love Letter to Other Mamas

To the mamas in the thick of it — I see you. The ones who are doing the bedtime battles, the 3 a.m. feedings, the endless snack rounds, the emotional labor, the holding-it-all-together. You are doing such important work.

To the mamas feeling stretched thin — you’re not alone. It’s okay to need help. It’s okay to rest. You don’t have to do it all to be worthy.

To the mamas who have lost, who are longing, who are mothering in ways that aren’t always visible — I honor you. Your love is powerful.

To the mama I will become in my next season — I’m cheering for her too.

Wherever you are on your path, I hope you can take a breath this Mother’s Day and recognize the quiet, radiant strength within you. You are doing a beautiful job. You are enough.

For the Mother, The Muse, The Matriarch

Elevated Gifts to Honor Her Season with Intention & Beauty

If you’re looking to treat a mama in your life (or yourself!) with something meaningful and beautiful, I’ve curated a Mother’s Day Gift Edit with love. Think cozy, nourishing, scent-filled, soul-honoring pieces that support rest, ease, and embodiment.

→ Shop the Mother’s Day Round-Up Here

This season of motherhood is ever-evolving, but right now it feels like both softening and strengthening. It’s holding more joy, more trust, more flexibility than I knew I was capable of — and it’s shaping me in ways I’ll forever be grateful for.

If you’re a mama reading this, I invite you to take five quiet minutes for you this week. Light a candle, take a deep breath, and ask yourself:

What does this season of motherhood feel like for me?

You might be surprised what comes through when you give yourself the space to hear it.

Wishing you a gentle, joy-filled Mother’s Day — you deserve it all.

With love,

Whitney Eve