
So let me be really real right now.
The reality of the third trimester with a toddler is truly stretching me.
My energy is limited. My nervous system feels tender. My body is sore. My mind is full. And the days are wildly unpredictable. Some mornings I wake up feeling steady and capable, and other days I feel like I’m already behind before anything has even happened.
It’s challenging because I want to be so present with Coco…and I feel the grief of not always being able to do things the way I used to. Long outings feel harder. Transitions take more from me. My capacity is simply different right now.
So we’ve been reading a lot of books lately.
Lingering on the couch. Letting play unfold slowly. Spending more time at home than out in the world.
Most mornings start quietly.
Not in the aesthetic, perfectly rested way, more like the soft shuffle of a toddler climbing into bed while my body reminds me, very clearly, that I’m deep in my third trimester.
Some days we linger. Some days we’re up early. Some days I manage to stretch and breathe before Coco is awake, and other days I’m already negotiating breakfast before my feet hit the floor.
What I’ve learned in this season, pregnant while parenting a toddler, is that what keeps me grounded isn’t a perfect routine.
It’s a handful of tiny systems that reduce friction, protect my energy, and help me meet this moment with more softness than force.
These aren’t aspirational habits. They’re practical, imperfect, and deeply shaped by capacity.
Here’s what’s actually working.
Right now, I keep our days intentionally spacious.
That means fewer scheduled outings, fewer “we should do something” plans, and more time at home reading books, letting Coco play independently, and being outside when we can.
I’ve stopped stacking appointments or trying to fit too much into a single day. The rushing alone was enough to leave me depleted, especially while pregnant.
What I’ve let go of: Overestimating how much we can do in a day.
Why this helps: Open days create room for connection. They lower the pressure before the day even begins, and for toddlers and pregnant bodies alike, that matters.
One of the biggest shifts I’ve made is reducing how many decisions I need to make.
We rotate simple meals. We have a familiar outing rhythm (walk, library, snack). I don’t reinvent the day every morning.
I’ve stopped asking myself “What should we do today?” and started leaning on what already works.
What I’ve let go of: Trying to make every day feel new or special.
Why this helps: Decision fatigue hits faster in pregnancy. Toddlers thrive on predictability. Defaults don’t limit us, they free us.
This season has asked me to receive more than ever before.
I’ve hired my doula for prenatal sessions. I’ve said yes to people cooking meals, helping us organize, and watching Coco for a couple of hours. I’m letting support show up in both big and small ways.
I can’t do it all, and I no longer expect myself to.
What I’ve let go of: The quiet belief that needing help means I’m failing.
Why this helps: Support is a system. Community is one of the most regulating forces we have, and pregnancy has reminded me that we’re not meant to do this alone.
This time around, my focus has shifted.
Yes, I’m slowly working through our baby prep checklist, but I’m prioritizing postpartum support more than I ever did before. Nourishment. Rest. Recovery. Systems that will hold me once the baby arrives.
There’s less urgency and more intention. I really want to soak up these slow, tender, early days!
What I’ve let go of: Adrenaline-fueled nesting and last-minute pressure.
Why this helps: Preparing for postpartum is an act of self-respect. I know now how much that window matters, for healing, bonding, and regulation.
Rest doesn’t look glamorous right now.
It looks like napping or reading during Coco’s nap. Lying down while Aaron plays with her. Choosing stillness over productivity whenever my body asks.
I’m no longer waiting for rest to come in perfect conditions.
What I’ve let go of: Treating rest like something I have to earn.
Why this helps: Tiny pockets of rest add up. And when I’m rested, even a little, I’m more patient, present, and regulated.
I still hold an intention to ground myself in the mornings… getting dressed, stretching, meditating…but I’ve released the expectation that it happens consistently.
Some mornings it flows. Some mornings it doesn’t. Both are allowed.
What I’ve let go of: The idea that a missed routine means I’ve “fallen off.”
Why this helps: Connection to self doesn’t require perfection. Even small moments of intention shape the day.
Evenings are tender right now, especially as my energy wanes.
We’ve simplified Coco’s bedtime routine so it’s repetitive and familiar. Same rhythm. Same steps. We’re aiming a bit earlier when possible, because mama is tired.
What I’ve let go of: Overcomplicating bedtime or adding unnecessary steps.
Why this helps: Predictability creates safety… for toddlers and for me. A calm bedtime sets the tone for everything that follows.
Just as important as what I’m doing is what I’ve stopped doing:
This season doesn’t respond well to force.
These systems are quiet. They’re flexible. They’re human.
They aren’t about optimizing life… they’re about carrying less.
If you’re in a similar season, consider this your permission slip: you don’t need a full overhaul. One small system that makes life gentler is enough.
You’re not behind.
You’re responding wisely to the season you’re in.

For February, I put together a Pregnant + Toddler Kit on ShopMy… a small collection of items supporting both me and Coco in this season.
It includes a few things I’m genuinely leaning on right now: simple supports for my pregnant body (gentle movement, comfort, and rest), and tools that help Coco feel included, creative, and independent as our days slow down.
Each piece reflects the same intention guiding everything else right now:
less friction, more ease… for both of us.