This blog has been sitting in my drafts since the beginning of June.

At first, I chalked it up to life being full. Summer arrived, the days blurred together, and between caring for two little ones, soaking up the sunshine, supporting my family, and simply keeping up with everyday life, writing took a back seat.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this blog wasn’t unfinished because I hadn’t found the time.

It was unfinished because I was busy living it.

Ironically, I wanted to write about slowing down while life was quietly inviting me to actually do it first.

A Different Kind of Summer

This year has changed me in ways I’m still putting words to.

Welcoming Skyler into our family. Watching Coco grow from a baby into a little girl with opinions, imagination, and endless curiosity. Walking beside my sister through one of the hardest years of her life and witnessing just how precious and fragile our time together really is.

When you’ve experienced both immense joy and deep hardship in the same season, your perspective begins to shift.

You stop assuming there will always be more time.

More summers. More slow mornings. More ordinary Tuesdays. More bedtime snuggles. More chances to say, “Let’s stay a little longer.”

Instead, you begin paying closer attention because you realize these moments aren’t ordinary at all.

They are the richness of life.

The Tension I’ve Been Feeling

If I’m being completely honest, I’ve also been wrestling with something else.

I love creating content. I truly do.

Sharing glimpses of our home, motherhood, wellness, and the simple things that bring me joy has connected me with so many incredible women. This community has become one of the greatest gifts of my work, and I don’t take that for granted.

But somewhere along the way, I noticed a quiet tension growing inside me.

Sometimes it feels like being connected online can slowly disconnect us from the very life we’re trying to capture.

I know that feeling because I’ve lived it.

I’ve been the person reaching for my phone before fully taking in the moment. I’ve interrupted conversations because I had an idea I didn’t want to forget. I’ve watched my children through a screen while recording something I desperately wanted to remember.

Not because I wanted to be somewhere else…but because sharing has become such a natural part of my life.

Lately, though, I’ve found myself asking a different question.

What if some of the most beautiful moments are meant to be fully lived before they’re ever shared?

What if they don’t need to become content at all?

I don’t think this is about abandoning social media or pretending it’s all bad. It’s brought so much goodness into my life, and I genuinely love connecting here.

It’s simply about remembering what comes first.

Life.

The people sitting across the table from us.

The conversations we can’t recreate.

The tiny moments that quietly become our memories.

Why This Conversation Feels So Timely

Lately I’ve been seeing everyone talk about having a “90s butter mom summer.”

While the phrase makes me smile, because I grew up in the 90’s! I don’t think what we’re really craving is nostalgia.

I think we miss how life felt.

Less documented. Less optimized. Less rushed.

More wandering. More imagination. More neighborhood bike rides. More evenings outside because there wasn’t anywhere else to be.

Whether it’s called a butter mom summer or something else entirely, I think there’s a collective longing happening right now.

A longing to simplify.

To stop trying to squeeze every drop out of life and instead let ourselves fully experience it.

The Simplicity I’m Craving

These days, I’m realizing I don’t want more.

I don’t want another productivity hack or a perfectly planned summer bucket list.

I want to linger over morning tea while the house slowly wakes up. I want open windows, fresh flowers on the table, and tomatoes from the garden sitting on the counter. I want pool afternoons that turn into pizza on the deck because nobody feels like going inside. I want to hear Coco’s stories without glancing at my phone. I want to hold Skyler a little longer before laying him down. I want to sit outside with Aaron after bedtime, recapping the sweet and hard moments of the day while the sun slowly disappears behind the trees.

None of those moments are remarkable on their own.

But together, they’re becoming the kind of life I’ve always wanted.

The Richness Was Here All Along

The older I get, the more I realize that life doesn’t become meaningful because we do more.

It becomes meaningful because we notice more.

This past year has reminded me that joy and heartbreak often exist side by side. We’ve welcomed a beautiful baby into our family while also walking through surgeries, uncertainty, and the emotional weight of Kylee’s health journey.

Experiencing both has made one thing incredibly clear:

Our time together is precious.

The ordinary moments are the ones worth protecting.

The people we love are the greatest luxury we’ll ever have.

Maybe that’s why this blog sat unfinished for over a month.

I thought I needed to write about slowing down.

Instead, life was asking me to practice it.

To close the laptop.

To leave my phone inside.

To let the email wait until tomorrow.

To watch Coco collect flowers without wondering if I should film it.

To hold Skyler a little longer while he still fits so perfectly on my chest.

To sit beside my sister and soak in another ordinary conversation that, after everything we’ve walked through this year, doesn’t feel ordinary at all.

To laugh with Aaron after the kids are asleep, remembering that these quiet moments are the foundation of our family.

To remember that the life I’m always trying to capture is the one I never want to miss.

The truth is, I don’t have this figured out.

I’ll probably still reach for my phone too often. I’ll still share pieces of our life because I genuinely love this community and the women I’ve met here. I believe there is beauty in documenting our lives and in finding connection through our stories.

But I’m learning that the richest parts of life aren’t found on a screen. They’re found in the moments that ask nothing of us except our attention.

The internet will always be there tomorrow.

My children won’t always be this little.

And maybe that’s what this season has been trying to teach me all along.

Not to disappear. Not to stop creating.

But to let life come first.

To experience it before I share it.

To trust that the moments that change us most are often the ones no one else ever sees.

Because years from now, I won’t remember how consistent I was online.

I’ll remember the sound of laughter drifting through open windows. Bare feet in the grass. Family dinners on the deck. Golden evening walks. The weight of my babies in my arms. The gratitude of having my sister beside me. The quiet conversations with Aaron after bedtime.

I’ll remember how it all felt.

Maybe we’re not looking for more after all. Maybe we’re simply looking for enough.

Enough presence to notice the life unfolding right in front of us. Enough courage to choose connection over distraction. Enough wisdom to realize that these ordinary days are the ones we’ll someday miss the most.

Summer Favorites I’m Loving

One of my favorite ways to round out these monthly posts is by sharing a few things I’m genuinely reaching for this season. These are simple favorites that are making our summer days a little easier, a little more comfortable, and a lot more enjoyable. From pool and river adventures with the kids to everyday motherhood essentials, here’s what’s been coming along for the ride lately. You can shop them all (and a few more of my current favorites) over on my ShopMy.

SHOP MY SUMMER FAVORITES →