momma mommy bwuh

One thing I knew about homeschooling—but didn’t fully consider the impact of—was that my days of being alone were over.

Of course, I expected that Boy1 would be home with me most, if not all, days. That part wasn’t a surprise. What was a surprise was realizing that my quiet weekdays after the boys had gotten on the bus were mostly gone. Working from home in peaceful silence? Gone. Eating breakfast or lunch by myself during the week? Also gone.

And let me be clear—I’m not complaining.

I truly love getting to spend this time with my kid and supporting him in ways he wasn’t being supported in public school. Having adopted our children at older ages, we’re often aware that there are years we didn’t get to share with them. We’re making new memories now. We’re celebrating new milestones and still experiencing plenty of “firsts.” But there are still moments from the past that we didn’t get, and we can’t replace them. Because of that, every minute we get to spend with these boys matters deeply to us.

That being said, I’ve come to cherish the slow mornings.

The ones where I can sit on the couch with a cup of coffee and soak in the quiet comfort of home—the calm before the storm, if you will. It’s the small pocket of time between Boy2 heading off to school and Boy1 waking up for the day.

Sometimes the dog stretches out beside me on the couch. Other mornings he curls up in his bed on the floor. Either way, the house is peaceful. Quiet. Still.

And it doesn’t last long.

Soon enough, the happy chaos begins. Boy1 wakes up and greets the dog before starting his visual schedule—meds, breakfast, and getting dressed. I give up my spot on the couch and pause whatever I was doing. Usually it’s writing a blog post or making a grocery list. Sometimes I’m planning meals or sketching ideas for a garden bed.

It’s my time to think, to dream, to create, and to remember.

Then it’s time to pause it all—until after bedtime, or until that same quiet moment the next morning—because it’s time to mom, to work, and to play.

And honestly, I wouldn’t trade that happy chaos for anything.

What does your “me time” look like these days?