One of her teachers used to describe days that were “out of the norm” as “Ziggle Zaggle” to the students, in order to help them grasp the concept of a schedule that’s a bit wonky.

It’s now a term we all use on almost a daily basis.

“What’s your day like today?”

“Chaos. It’s ziggle zaggle.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“You’re on your own tonight. It’s ziggle zaggle.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Everything. Right now, my mind is ziggle zaggle.”

And let me tell you, this week did not disappoint in the ZZ department.

If it wasn’t a doctors appointment or an expired license or wet paint, it was a canceled train or a glucose spike or bad news.

But this week, it wasn’t shattered glass!

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 3:48 AM: Butter and gas

Well well well. If it isn’t just little ol’ me thinking that the smell of melted butter would make for a flawless morning. How cute.

Side note - I’m hoping that shallow frying blueberry pancakes in butter will break my toddlers hunger strike. The last few days he’s wanted nothing but blueberries and chickpeas, which has led to such wild poops that he literally had a blue blowout in his high chair last night.

I digress. Unfortunately this intoxicating aroma wasn’t enough to mask the other intoxicating aroma.

When we stepped into the garage this morning to embark on our family walk, we were all hit with the wonderful smell of gasoline coming from our (mostly) ELECTRIC car. Cool cool cool.

My husband? Not concerned. Me? Very concerned. I’m always convinced that the second we smell gas it means something is about to explode. Fortunately, I haven’t been right about this yet.

Anyways, it only took us 3 hours to figure out that the unwanted smell wasn’t gas. It was PAINT. Silly me must have driven through wet yellow paint, leaving the front of our car looking patterned like a poisonous snake.

But we do have some wins:

• My husband still loves me

• I wasn’t terrified driving this morning (even if it was to go get blood drawn…more on that coming later)

• I didn’t shatter any glass

• The blueberry pancakes were a hit

And somehow I’m supposed to start my workday at 9am with a smiling face acting like I haven’t already lived 3 lives before this Teams call began.

WAM my people. WAM.

Currently baking: these Greek yogurt pancakes

Currently snacking on: these seedy crackers and homemade pickles

Currently recommending: this toddler high chair moat thing to all my mom friends

Tuesday | 7:59 AM: But I was really looking forward to reading my book on the train.

I truly have no idea what’s going on.

I was supposed to be on the 6:30 train into the city today, but of course that kept getting delayed and more delayed and then a little more delayed, until it was finally announced canceled.

But do I risk it and try to take a later train? Hoping that whatever train blocking obstruction has miraculously dissolved in 2 hours? I washed my hair last night. I’m already dressed. My snacks are already packed. And I scheduled a lunch for my team today…

Theoretically I could go in tomorrow instead. But every type A person reading this is probably cringing at the thought of me having to replan my entire week.

So I’ll risk it. Today will be chaos, but maybe tomorrow will be calm?

Just kidding. I’ve adjusted my expectations.

Currently reading: Going Corporate Saved My Life by , How to Become an Unbothered Queen by , and to be a cool person you have to do cool things by

Currently craving: my favorite broccoli lentil soup

Wednesday | 7:09 AM: Like really, really hungry.

There’s things I put off, and then there’s things I REALLY put off.

And any sort of fasting bloodwork falls into the later category.

But alas, that day has come.

I somehow made it to the lab despite no food (or water GASP).

But on the plus side - it was a wonderful excuse to sleep as late as possible this morning. Haven’t woken up in the 3s in a minute…

Thursday | 8:35 AM: Birthday month perks

There’s things I put off, and then there’s things I really put off.

And car registration renewal and license renewal happen to both fall into that category. And now I’m here at the town clerk’s office with my tail between my legs waiting until the last possible minute to cross something off the list.

For a type A person, I am exceptional about procrastinating certain things.

Will it even feel good when I cross these things off the list?

That’s a trick question - because I rescheduled my DMV appointment to September. What can be pushed off, will get pushed off.

Currently reading: The Crash by Frieda McFadden

Currently into: making ninja creamis with this protein powder

Currently asking Claude: what in the world is going on with my toddler’s sleep regression

Friday | 3:05 AM: Glucose spike detected

Growing up, I had one set of grandparents that would offer us cookies and chips. And the other that would load us with celery sticks and radishes.

You probably can’t guess the side with the deep history of type 2 diabetes though.

But if you guessed the veggie stick side, you’d be correct.

Despite subsiding on nothing but insanely healthy food her entire life, my sweet sweet grandmother has type 2 diabetes.

My dad, an incredibly active man, who does appreciates a carrot stick, also got the diabetes diag.

And for me? I’ve learned I’m at a much higher risk, just because of my genetics.

I actually had gestational diabetes with my first pregnancy, making me a frequent user of continuous glucose monitors and glucose test strips. And after a hiatus from all the testing and tracking, it’s time to begin again.

Last night before bed I installed a CGM, curious to see how my normal healthy meals (and my daily chocolate treats) would register.

And this mornings results leave us with both good news and bad news.

The bad news is that I might have to taper down the amount of maple syrup I’m putting in my morning matcha. But the good news is that knowledge is power.

There’s such a stigma about type 2 diabetes - that it just comes from an abundance of sugar and poor lifestyle choices. And yes, while those two things are serious risk factors, how your unique body responds to glucose is entirely individual, and is heavily influenced by certain foods and food combinations, stress, sleep, activity, muscle mass, and al that jazz.

So if you’ve never tried a CGM before, and you’re half as much a nerd as I am, you’d probably find it super interesting. If you’re up for a little self induced, science experiment, this is the one I use.

Currently restocking: this contour stick

Currently wearing: these barrel leg sweatpant-y jeans

Currently craving: a partially frozen Cari Sun

Saturday | 3:05 AM: Choose your hard.

Yesterday, my husband found out that he did not pass his last actuarial exam. Something he had been studying so incredibly hard for over the past few months.

This basically means another few months of insane studying, and time away from the family.

He was of course incredibly disappointed and downright sad. But I tried to remind him of something we often talk about:

If it wasn’t this, it would be something else.

If he wasn’t spending 4 hours a day studying for an actuarial exam, he would be likely instead be working longer hours in a different job. He chose his hard years ago.

And we all choose our own hard. Life is NOT EASY. We all have challenges no matter the path that our lives lead us down. And our brains love love to latch onto the issue or the problem and focus solely on that. It’s a survival instinct or something like that.

Anyways, reminding him of this did console him a teeny tiny bit, but I’m making his favorite bread this morning anyways.

Currently baking: the absolute family favorite honey wheat loaf

Currently brainstorming: a complete post about self tanner lol

Currently sipping: not matcha, because I had one of these caffeinated chocolates instead. Gotta mix it up!

Sunday | 3:03 AM: Challenge stress v threat stress

Sunday mornings are my favorite.

There’s nothing I love more than lingering with my breakfast, working on my puzzles, doing a little reading, just scrolling my phone. Whatever I want for a good 30-45 minutes in the morning before responsibility hits.

Today though is one of those days where I actually have 87 thousand things on my list, and I can feel the tip of overwhelm beginning to surface.

But whenever I feel like this, which honestly is kind of often these days, I think of something I read about a year ago.

I will paraphrase heavily here, but in the book Cured by Dr. Jeff Rediger, he talks about the importance of reframing your stress. Instead of viewing a situation (like a busy week) as a threat, view it as a challenge instead. Challenges are fun, and threats are scary.

It’s 2026, and I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been chased by a tiger recently. Challenge stress only.

Currently restocking: the eye patches I can’t go a day without

Currently obsessed with: my friendship bracelet from my best friend, and cereal

Currently grateful for: my health, and the health of my family, today and always

And with that, I leave you.

Do something for yourself. Plan something to look forward to. And eat good food.

May your week ahead be filled with as much morning as possible.

XOXO, Natalie

After spending last weekend traveling, things were sort of unraveling when we arrived home mid-morning Monday.

But we recovered. And course corrected our week.

The laundry got done. The suitcases got unpacked. The inbox got mostly emptied.

I took some beautiful walks. I caught up with friends.

I reflected on what things in my life I could maybe start half-assing.

I commuted into the city and spent way too much time on an Amtrak overthinking my birthday reflections post.

I took a beach walk and hit the farm stand.

And of course, I shattered some more glass.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 3:42 AM: A many mode morning

Not a huge fan of Mondays that feel like Sundays.

I’m technically off of of work today - our travel day home from the White Mountains. If you caught last week’s post, you know the highlights.

But waking up this morning, my type A self is in many modes:

• Pack up and go mode. Is everyone awake yet???

• I should catch up on emails from Friday mode and be as available as possible today mode. (The joys of remote work!!)

• What in the world are we going to feed baby for breakfast mode.

• And lastly my favorite, but okay let’s stop and smell the roses for like 30 minutes and go one one final family loop through the town.

I’m sure you can all relate. But I’m excited to get home.

On the list for today:

• Get home, SAFETLY (sorry but I hate driving and car rides scare me)

• Unpack, shower, and put on self tanner during naptime

• Catch up on emails

• Put away the mountain of packages on our front door step (85% of them are not exciting. My husband likes to buy barley in bulk), but the remaining 15% are NEW JAMMIES.

• Do I dare add laundry to this list? I’d only be setting myself up for disappointment. But here we are.

Whatever type of Monday you’re having today, I hope you get the Connections right, and I hope you’re not constipated.

Tuesday | 2:33 AM: This could honestly be a self tanner blog.

I managed to accomplish most of the items on my list yesterday. Was it the most chaotic day of my life? Potentially. Am I thrilled to be waking up at home, with a thick coat of self tanner on? Absolutely.

When people say they don’t like sleeping in self tanners… sorry I just can’t relate. I love the feeling of waking up super duper dark pretending like that will last before the color guard washes down the drain in the shower.

Anyways, my self tanner journey started with good ol Fake Bake back in 2009. Since then, I have probably tried over 100 different shades, brands, and types, and can give you an honest opinion of most on the market.

My current top 3 favorites - in order of favoritism, but in reverse order of “cleanliness” (if that’s something you care about, and you should):

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And it feels like the adult equivalent of a snow day that this year my birthday falls on a Saturday.

So naturally, everyone keeps asking me how I want to spend the day.

Nothing special, I keep repeating. Even though the plans for the day are very, very special to me.

On deck:

A morning beach walk with my family.

My husband and baby will do the 2.5 mile sunrise loop with my parents, brother, and the two pugs.

My mom will watch my son for the afternoon. I’ll take a long everything shower, complete with a hair wash and a hopefully streak free self tanner application.

My husband and I will have a 2pm dinner. He’ll make my favorite - turkey burgers. And I’ll roast us some broccoli. I’ve been in the mood for squash too, and even though it’s not quite the season yet, we’ve found some gems at the grocery store.

After dinner, I want to lounge on the couch for a bit. Maybe we’ll watch a movie. Or maybe I’ll lay there alternating between scrolling Substack, Pinterest, and Mango, debating if I should buy something new for our upcoming trip.

My mom will bring our son home and we’ll do the evening routine.

His food throwing habits likely won’t take mercy on me even though it’s my birthday. But that’s fine. It’s probably bath night for him anyways, which means I’ll wrestle him upstairs while my husband will do clean up.

Maybe he’ll do that thing where he drifts off to sleep a bit in my arms during his pre-bed bottle. That’d be the ultimate birthday gift.

And maybe I’ll get to read my book, something fiction, something thriller, for 20 minutes before bed.

It sounds like a perfect day if you ask me. Nothing special.

But wow, 31 is a far cry from 21. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Of course, I wish I could go back and tell 21 year old me so many things. Don’t we all.

But hindsight is 20/20, and I’m honestly glad that she had to figure out so much of this world on her own.

So I think the things I would tell her are coming from a place of care and comfort, rather than direction and instruction.

Something along the lines of - give yourself grace. With undertones of - you’ll find your footing. And reminders of - you don’t have to have it all figured out yet.

So if I could mail this letter back in time, here’s pretty much what it would say.

You’ll find your people

When I was in high school, I was so sure that I had met my friends for life.

When I went to college, I was again, so sure that these were the friends I would grow old with.

And don’t get me wrong, I do have amazing friendships from both those phases of life, but some of my best best friends are those that have come into my life later in adulthood.

I feel like we put so much pressure on young girls to find their tribe at a young age. I always thought that if I didn’t leave college with a solid group then I would be a friendless cat lady forever.

It wasn’t until later in my twenties, when I found myself a bit more, that I became more open to friendships from other avenues. And man I was missing out.

I met my best friend on the side of the road. Some friends are originally friends of friends. Others I met on the internet. And a handful live hundreds of miles away from me.

When I turned 30 last year, I was filled with gratitude for the life I was bringing with me into the next decade. And at the center of that were the female relationships that I had built from the sheer effort of putting myself out there, and trusting the process.

You don’t need to pretend to laugh when you don’t think the jokes funny. And not everyone is going to like you. But if you stay true to yourself, you’ll find the people that don’t feel draining to be around.

You’ll also find your husband

I seriously never expected him to be the one.

A drunken happy hour after work turned into me hooking up with my COWORKER and texting my office bestie about it the next day in full panic.

“And I woke up this morning and he was like…still here.”

(In my twin bed I might add).

But he was funny - the office wild child. And me, the office hardo, who could drink her weight in Coronas, became his new best friend.

We had fun. And it was light. And I never expected anything from it. We kept hanging out and post-happy hour hookups turned into real dates where we ate real food. And before I knew it I bullied him into saying “I love you” one drunken evening. The rest was history. We make cute kids.

He was the opposite of everyone I had ever pursued in the past. Largely because HE pursued ME. It was easy. And contrary to what people may say, love is supposed to be easy.

I never once had to ask myself “will I see him this weekend?” or “what if he doesn’t text me back?” because he always did. Always.

And that ladies, is the one you marry.

On the other side of work is more work, but better work.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a huge proponent of hard work. I worked my ass off in school and in my early twenties, allowing me to excel in my career from a very young age.

But I thought that when I reached that milestone, got that job, got that promotion, got my credentials, that I’d be given a magical plaque allowing me permission to start enjoying my life.

But I didn’t know how the corporate world works.

Have you ever heard of the curse of the competent? Well it’s something along the lines of the more work you do, the more work you get. If you’re good at your job, your reward will likely be more work.

Now don’t get me wrong - I am still a huge proponent of effort. I still am the proud owner of an incredibly tacky mug that says “good things come to those who work their asses off” and it’s true.

While it’s true that on the other side of work, is likely more work. There’s also the possibility that in the future you’ll have at least more control, more say, more flexibility as to what, how, and when that work gets done.

This is all to say, it’s all worth it.

So if you’re in the middle of a grind, keep grinding. It gets better.

Eat real god damn food

A protein bar is meant to be an emergency snack.

Not a whole meal. And not a proper snack either. It’s intended to be something for when you’re in a pinch and chocolate flavored petroleum jelly will have to do.

I can’t tell you how many brands of protein powder I tried in my twenties. How much money I flushed down the drain thinking that if I took the same supplements as my favorite fitness guru then I would have her abs. Spoiler alert: that will never work honey.

Stop reading nutrition labels and focus on eating more foods without nutrition labels.

Something that you don’t want to hear: a bag of hard boiled eggs IS the ultimate, and original, protein bar.

Learn how to do your makeup properly

Taking a 45 minute online makeup tutorial from Kelly Anne gave me far more confidence than a new outfit ever did.

Learning how to enhance your own features is an incredible investment.

And I’m not talking about anything fancy here. Foundation, concealer, where to apply, how to apply bronzer, contour, eyeliner if that’s your thing. The basics. The marketing on makeup products is insane. We’re constantly being pushed a new concealer or setting powder but have you noticed not a single item comes with instructions???

I promise that when you feel better and more confident, about your face, you’ll be less tempted to buy all these new clothes that you think will make you feel prettier. Enhance your natural beauty, wear whatever the hell you want, and stop buying into trends.

You’re allowed to change your mind.

I spent the greater part of my twenties, and my life in general, being incredibly stubborn.

A good quality to have, for the most part, but often it left me feeling pretty pigeon holed.

My mind was not meant for changing. My preferences were set in stone. My opinions were formed. And that was that.

Things are different now. And it’s freeing. But this didn’t happen overnight, and I can’t put my fingers on any sort of catalyst that drove the change.

But great discoveries are the result of experiments.

I love soup now, and spicy food. Two things I used to swear off of.

I went to Catholic school for 17 years. I didn’t get married in a church. I got married in a castle in Portugal to an incredible Jewish man.

I have wild wavy hair, but I blow dry it straight. Because I like it that way.

And I don’t live in a house with a big yard and a white picket fence. Because that’s not what I want right now.

I allow space for gray area in my life, a byproduct of getting the fuck out of my own way. And I’m happier for it.

I’m not always right. In fact, I’m usually wrong. And how wonderful that is, because it means I’m always learning.

More is rarely better.

Except in the context of sleep, then more is definitely better.

Think shorter workouts, fewer social plans, less clothes hanging in the closet collecting dust.

It seems like our society is obsessed with acquiring things. More muscle, more belongings. A higher status, a bigger paycheck. A more spacious home. A larger friend group. More, bigger, better, best. Right?

Wrong.

Ever wonder why cleaning out your closet feels so good? It’s because we weren’t meant to own so much.

Excess rarely brings satisfaction. And once I realized this, life became a lot simpler.

Be wary of the things you carry. And never underestimate the power of a good rhyme.

And lastly, I’d also tell 21 year old me that 31 year old you is living the life she was destined for. And how cool is that?

Here’s to the next 10 years of making it up as I go along.

XOXO, Natalie

It’s laughable thinking back to 7 days ago me, having no idea what this week would have in store.

My expectation: a calm and short work week, followed by a fun little family vacation with my parents up north.

My reality: a mountain range of highs and lows.

I took my first Tylenol in 10 years. And made my first ever trip to urgent care.

We almost ended up on the news as those crazy stupid unprepared hiking people.

My 9 day connections streak came to a screeching halt.

I started reading fiction again and it feels wildly selfish in the best way possible.

My husband and I went on our first date in months.

I stayed up past my bedtime many nights in a row.

I now have a favorite brand of tissues.

And after this week, I’ll be throwing my favorite pair of sneakers in the garbage.

And with that, let’s get into it.

Welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 2:39 AM: Zucchini on the mind.

On Sundays, I plan out my week. I literally write, “replan for week” on my Sunday list, and copy it to the following Sunday every week in my little notes app template.

Having mini to do lists for each day keeps my head on straight. It’s how I keep track of what workouts I’d like to do, which day laundry is most likely getting done, and when we’ll need to hit the grocery store.

Speaking of, one of my micro goals for the summer is go to our local farm more often. And yes, I don’t mean farmers market. I mean farm. We are so lucky to have an independent and 100% organic farm just a few minute drive from us.

In reality it sounds delightful, but in practice it’s harder. There’s always a bit of scheduling Jenga involved trying to make it to two grocery stores in one week. But without farms, there would be no food. And it’s important we support them.

AND their produce is actually 10 million times better.

So I’m spending my early Monday morning hours looking at my work meeting schedule figuring out where I can place a calendar block that says “FARM”.

Tuesday | 2:35 AM: Audiobook thoughts

It’s only fitting that as soon as my son recovers from his little bout with sickness, it comes for momma.

But guys, thank GOD, it’s not the man flu. A little sore throat headache combo never killed anyone. (And if it did - don’t tell me).

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But I did feel tears sting my eyes as we drove over the Tobin bridge, me in the passenger seat of my dad’s unnecessarily large truck.

When we arrived at our little townhouse by the river, my type A third-trimester self went into full GO mode and I began furiously unpacking boxes and directing the sweet little movers where all of our like three pieces of furniture went.

Four hours or so flew by, and I couldn’t tell you what my husband was doing. He knew well enough to stay out of my way until further notice. I had silverware to organize after all.

When the movers left and the dust settled, and it was just the two of us in a space much to big for just the two of us. It felt…sad.

Our Boston condo was beautiful. Brand new. Sparky. Modern. The kitchen backsplash of my dreams. Top notch appliances and tasteful hardwood. When we first moved in there years before, I didn’t take much effort to decorate. My minimalist tendencies let the simplicity of the space speak for itself. But this townhouse was built long before I was born, and was a large departure from what we previously knew.

The sun was quickly setting and I could sense my heart quickening with a looming spiral. A baby boy in my belly and a new home in a small town. It was all happening quite fast. Would we be happy here?

I wanted nothing more than to crawl upstairs and take a hot shower. But as soon as I announced my plan to my husband, he responded with -

Wait, I want to show you something.

He dragged me outside just before the January sun dipped below the horizon. We both took a few deep breaths and looked around.

The air was crisp and clean. And the river was flowing and vibrant.

I remember very vividly this moment in time. Thinking to myself - yes, we’ll be okay here.

Fast forward a few months. We made it through the winter. Baby boy is a few weeks old, and now only one of us is in diapers.

Long walks in the trying Spring sunshine were my postpartum therapy. And I relished in the maternity leave freedom - a few minutes reclining in an Adirondack by the river, just observing my surroundings, taking in the sights of our new home, listening to the birds, and observing our neighbors.

And that’s when I realized.

We were raising our son in a retirement community.

HUH? You might ask.

So maybe I should clarify. It’s not ACTUALLY a retirement community. But it might as well be. We estimate that the average age hovers somewhere in the 70s. The youngest being 55 on a good day, and the oldest probably somewhere in the 200s.

This wasn’t exactly what I envisioned for my growing family when we left the city. But after living here for over a year now, the people in this community man, they know something we don’t.

Here’s what I’ve learned.

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There is beauty in routine.

Every morning around 5 AM we take our son on a sunrise walk to the park. And every morning, we pass Judy’s window. There she sits, at 5:08 AM, give or take a few, waiting for us to pass.

We stand two stories below on the sidewalk, and I bend down to the stroller, instructing my son “wave to Judy baby”, which is hit or miss.

We yell back and forth about the beautiful crisp weather we’ve been having. Occasionally about our plans for the day, or our son’s new developmental milestone. We close with “have a great day!” and continue on our walk.

When we’re lucky, she’ll scurry down from her perch and meet us on the street. Handing us a bundle of cherry bars or shortbread cookies, exclaiming:

I love baking for my friends.

The value of a simple morning ritual isn’t something that’s new to me. It’s pretty much the backbone of my existence. But our daily interactions with our beloved lady in the window have only comfortably reinforced the beauty of consistency. Sometimes, all you have to do is show up. Rain or shine.

Good things take effort, patience, and education.

I swear to God. Our neighbor is literally growing tomatoes the size of softballs on her deck.

And it’s not just tomatoes - Trish’s tiny little wooden porch is absolutely covered in at least thirty different varieties of flowers, fruits, and vines.

But these plants aren’t just alive and growing - they are absolutely FLOURISHING. It is an actual jungle up there. She even has multiple sorts of birdfeeders for all the different varieties of friends who visit her flowers. She’s out there every morning watering each with care, waving to us and signing to us about what a lovely day it’s going to be.

But her plants aren’t beautiful by luck. All spring she spent hours and hours out there potting and planting and fertilizing and doing whatever the heck other witchcraft she’s using. She poured herself into her garden. She didn’t just roll over and say OH HEY I ONLY HAVE THIS TINY ASS DECK LETS JUST GET SOME MINT PLANTS AND CALL IT A DAY. NO. Trish saw her 80 square foot deck and said let’s do this thing.

She put in time. She put in effort. And she had the patience to learn what in the world she was doing. And honestly, that’s sort of a lost art.

Think bigger than yourself

Gail is one of those people who will probably live forever.

Every morning, rain or shine, she’s out doing her little gentle jog in the park. We see her from hundreds of feet away, her small frame shuffling back and forth. But it’s not just her gait that’s distinctive. It’s the green plastic bag she carries in her left hand, which houses the bits and pieces of trash she bends down every few yards to collect.

We always pause and chat. She tells us about her clarinet concert from the night before, and describes the protest she’ll be attending in town that evening. Our son waves bye and we continue on our walk, only to see her peer into trash cans down the block, removing the recyclable items piece by piece.

I told her once, “the world needs more Gails”.

She retracted her frail hand from the trash can, plastic bottle in hand, and responded:

Every time I feel silly doing this, I just try to think globally.

And honestly, if 77 year old Gail is trying her best to save our planet. You probably should be too.

Learn peoples names

We lived in our Boston condo for almost 3.5 years. And I couldn’t tell you the name of a single person who lived in our building.

There was Greyhound Lady, Smelly Dad, and Tall Guy Who Screamed At His Girlfriend.

And that was pretty much the extent of our neighborly relations.

It wasn’t that people weren’t friendly. We all smiled and exchanged good mornings in passing. And there was of course the occasional door hold. You know what I mean. Everyone was nice.

But friendships never formed. No one ever paused.

Here, things are different.

I can’t walk down the block without stopping to chat with Gary, Jan, and Roe. And my friends know that my voice notes are frequently interrupted by

Sorry hold on. Good morning Frank!

and

Sorry - Hi Susan! How are you?

Now, over a year since living in our sweet little town by the river, I may not have made countless young mom friends to go on coffee playground dates with, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Pause. Learn people’s names. Ask where they’re from. Pet their dogs. Be a good neighbor. You can make friends at any age.

Protect your memories

As a total minimalist, the walls of our family room are a sharp contrast to those of the surrounding homes.

When the sun is below the horizon, and all the little square apartments are illuminated by lamp light, we can peer in and get a little visual into our neighbors lives.

Walls covered (and I mean covered) with photos, plaques, and art. Although a far cry from my Home Pinterest board, I have learned to appreciate, and even find beauty in, our neighbors’ displays.

Family reunion photos and wedding photos and printouts of their grandkids’ first days of school. Diplomas and fishing awards and prints collected from years of yard sales and exotic travels.

Those walls are their memories. The kind of decor you can’t get at Pottery Barn. And the kind of art worth remembering.

Shiny, new, and sleek isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Maybe we should all focus on being a little less streamlined, a little less curated, and a little more genuine.

And just like that, it’s time for our morning walk. Maybe Judy will have some treats for us today.

Speaking of which - how in the world do people allocate their time between reading and writing? (And work, and childcare, and laundry, and social plans, and hair wash night?)

No that’s actually a serious question.

Anyways, I mentioned in a post last week that I had been feeling flat. Uninspired. On the proverbial hamster wheel.

In comes a priority shift, and here we are. We’ll get into it.

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The purpose of this newsletter is joy. To bring me joy, but also hopefully you.

I hope you enjoy sitting down with a yummy breakfast of whatever the fuck you want (and not what your online nutritionwellnesholistic practioner is eating) and skimming my early morning thoughts.

The posts I enjoy reading the most are the ones that feel like a peek into someone’s stream of consciousness. Raw, unfiltered, and realistic. And that’s what I will always give you in this newsletter. The good, the bad, the questionably sticky, and the likely unedited.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

Monday | 2:17 AM: Nothing like some oregano in the AM.

Not me skipping down into the kitchen on my way to write all about how Monday mornings are my favorite. Only to open up our spice cabinet which is actually a liquor cabinet stuffed full with somewhere over 500 jars of spices, jams, jellies, honeys, and forgotten liquors.

Anyways, the poor oregano never stood a chance and did an immediate nosedive to the tile, sending little green leaves, and SHATTERED GLASS everywhere.

Luckily, I’m sort of in my breaking glass era, and do this with somewhat regularity (last week it was a glass cleaning bottle) so we have a protocol at this point, and my saint of a husband immediately jumped into action so that I could work on making my breakfast because momma has got to eat.

Did you know that if you cover the top of the vacuum with your sweatshirt to suppress noise while your baby sleeps it won’t make any bit of a difference?

Anyways, even though our kitchen smells like a stale pizza hut, Mondays are still my favorite. My inbox isn’t poppin yet and I normally have a bit more time to linger with my breakfast, get in a quick workout, or make my son a Pinterest board breakfast that he’ll reject in a few hours.

WAM as we say in this household. What a morning.

Tuesday | 3:17 AM: We need backup.

Mr. Clean Pads have entered the chat.

Years ago I went through a full overhaul of every cleaning product, personal hygiene item and makeup item in our household. I replaced everything with the cleanest most fragrance free mostly water product that money can buy.

And while I very much still stand by this strategy, when my son turned our walls into his Crayola art exhibit this weekend, I knew it was time to bring in the big guns.

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And this system has been working for me and my family for quite some time now.

And it fills me with joy. I love mornings and everything about them. The exciting unknown of a new day. Breakfast. Caffeine. Sunrises. All that jazz.

But maybe my favorite thing is an unspoken rule that seems to put the pre-dawn hours in a protective bubble. It’s the only time of day where people aren’t expecting things from you. No one’s anticipating an email back this early and text messages can wait. No social plans are happening before the sun and you haven’t entered the chaotic jet stream of the day quite yet.

It leaves space to create the type of morning that works for you. Whether that be movement and meditation and matcha, or something more along the lines of wrangling a toddler and strangling your husband.

My morning routine is in constant flux, adapting to fit whatever phase me and the family are currently in.

And no system is perfect. But there are many aspects of my recent early hours that are going swimmingly. And others that could stand to be edited.

So with that, let’s get into it.

Let’s talk about what’s working.

My bedmaking habits

The very first thing I do every morning is make my bed. And it is arguably the most important step of my morning routine.

Yes, it might take me literally 10 minutes to get it just right. But I fluff the pillows and smooth the duvet with the utmost attention to detail. It’s annoying as hell, but by 2:10 AM I’m already riding a little dopamine high from my accomplished task.

Because how you do one thing is how you do everything.

Audio books

This one is relatively new, as I’m currently wrapping up just my second audio book ever.
When I come downstairs in the morning, I’ve been taking 20 seconds to flip on the Bose and pick up wherever I left off.

I used to be a big soothingmusicfirstthing girl. But there’s something about the way an audiobook occupies my mind as I unload the dishwasher and make breakfast. The normal background noise of my monologue to do list and workday ahead ahead fade away, and all I can focus on is whatever lifesaving adventure in Yellowstone Kevin Grange is taking me on. Shameless plug for the below!

Breakfast hyper fixation

Speaking of breakfast, I’m the type of person who could eat the same thing everyday and be happy as a clam.

I’ll go through phases of course, but right now, I am all in on a very simple and satisfying combo:

If you’ve never had hot buckwheat cereal - I will describe it as the forgotten love child of oatmeal and porridge. Bland and hearty.

I make it in the microwave because I am a tired mother (literally who is making this kind of thing on the stovetop), and top it with a bucketload of full fat greek yogurt and frozen blueberries.

The hot, cool, and frozen contrast has really been hitting the spot at 2:30 AM.

Taking 10 min to get dressed.

One of my dearest friends asked me the most thought provoking question last week:

What has been a good use of your time recently?

At first I wasn’t sure, but one thing did come to mind : taking 10 minutes in the morning to actually get dressed - which for me basically means actually putting some makeup on.

I thought this was a bad answer at first. But I realized it was actually true. Taking time to feel good about yourself is a good use of time.

Because I’ve noticed that when my undereyes feel a little brighter, I act a little brighter. I’m more energetic, and in turn, a better mom, wife, employee, and person.

Less meal prep, more Microsoft Excel prep

Some variant of meal prep used to consume a pretty significant portion of my time in the morning. I would spend 30-45 minutes making muffins or chopping broccoli or washing potatoes.

But life (and work) have been busy. I’ve found myself needing to rely on my morning hours to get more work done lately.

Frozen vegetables are really having their moment, and my son will be just fine with a defrosted pancake from last month.

My 3 AM hour has been productive in a different sense recently, and that’s okay.

And what’s not working.

Workout timing

My son is going through that fun I’m about to start walking and talking sleep regression that everyone warned me about. Which for him, means he falls asleep way too late and wakes up way too early.

And unfortunately for me, that wakeup time seems to continuously coincide with the start of my morning workout.

By the time I complete my reentry into the day and am fully caffeinated and fed and house chores completed, it’s about 4 AM. Which gives me anywhere from 0 to 40 minutes to get some movement in before baby is up.

I know I’ll likely need to shuffle my routine around a bit if I actually want to prioritize exercise… but still struggling with the mental gymnastics of that one. I don’t like to rush in the mornings!

Less Substack time sad face

Like I mentioned my mornings have been occupied by my job that actually pays the bills (and don’t get me wrong, I do love it).

But that leaves very little time, if any, for morning Substack, and my weekly posts have fallen by the wayside.

And lately I’ve been feeling a little flat. A little uninspired. Down bad with a case of just going through the motions.

This probably goes hand in hand with a needed morning routine priorities shuffle. But like all things in life, this is a season, and that’s okay.

A 5AM lunch time

When breakfast is at 230 AM, 5 AM feels like it should be lunch time. Which honestly, it is.

8 AM is second lunch and by 1030 I’m having my afternoon chocolate.

By noon we’re thinking about preheating the oven for dinner - which has been landing around 2 PM recently….at the latest.

(Do the math with me here though, if you wakeup at 6 AM, 6 PM dinner is NOT WEIRD!)

Anyways, the reality of living life on Europe time in New England is that I should probably stop feeling guilty for eating lentil soup and sourdough during my first meeting of the day.

We won’t keep this schedule forever, but right now, my days are mostly mornings, and how cool is that?

So with that, I’m off to finish my matcha and wrangle a toddler.

XOXO.

But lately I’ve found myself really really longing for those crisp cool autumn days. An early setting sun. My favorite pair of sweatpants. A roasted apple anything.

But at the same time I do hate wishing away time. I feel guilty at overlooking the wonderful parts of summer just because July isn’t my favorite month of the year.

I’ve thought a bit about all my favorite elements of fall, and how I can incorporate bits and pieces of these details into these remaining weeks of summer.

But first, let’s rewind.

I was in high school, probably 16 or so, and I was at 4 o’clock mass with my mom one Saturday. I couldn’t tell you what the Gospel said. I wasn’t really paying attention, probably thinking about whatever Justin bieber sk8er boy I was awaiting a text from.

Anyways, I do remember the homily. Or at least a piece of it grabbed my attention.

Love where you’re at.

I wish I had more context for you, but I remember this line sticking with me.

Because at the time, I was unfortunately at a phase that most teenage girls go through: the, I hate my body, phase.

But I remember this line giving me peace.

I was allowed to be happy where I was. I was allowed to be happy even though I didn’t have my “dream body” as a junior in high school (an actual child).

I remember we left mass and went out for Mexican food. I enjoyed my chicken enchiladas and a huge piece of “peanut butter cup pie”.

And honestly, I come back to this memory not often enough.

It’s easy to always be excited for the next best thing. It’s easy to tell yourself that you’ll “be happy when…”.

It’s harder to love the space between where you are, and where you want to be. But the reality is, that’s where we’ll spend the majority (read: MAJORITY) of our lives. There will always be a goal or a wish or a desire.

But right now, my goal is to be happy where I am, sweaty with Albert Einstein hair. In July.

So with that, let’s get into it: my autumnal summer.

Ogle at nature’s colors.

A flower field. A sunrise worth setting an alarm for or a sunset that’s past your bedtime. Sunlight reflecting off an ocean or a puddle.

We brought my son to a sunflower field this weekend. And he loved it. He is my DNA after all.

Bake something that hints at fall but nods to summer.

Something with a buttery crust but a seasonal berry.

My dad’s going to be helping us with some home projects next week, and I plan to thank him with his favorite blueberry pie.

Get chilly.

An early morning walk before the sun heats the pavement.

Getting out before sunrise is my favorite way to start the day. When it’s cool enough where I can throw on my favorite fleece… now that’s what really scratches the itch.

Play background music that makes you crave red wine.

Something while you cook or clean or putter around. Something that makes being inside on a sunny day feel intentional.

For me, that’s Jazz for Autumn.

Make it dark, early.

Draw the curtains and lower the blinds. It’s only sunny at 7pm if the light can get in.

One of my weekend projects was finally ordering blackout curtains! Hopefully now I won’t feel like I’m getting sunburnt while trying to sleep.

Get a jumpstart on back to school organization.

You don’t need to save it for September. Spend 30 minutes here and there. Pick one drawer, one closet, one cabinet a week. Micro projects add up.

I’ve been feeling like I need to take a day off to do all the house things I need to do. But I don’t have that kind of PTO bank right now. Instead, I’ve been setting my alarm 30 minutes earlier to give me some time in the morning to chip away at things. And little by little, progress is made.

Incorporate autumnal colors into your summer wardrobe.

We’re all dying for our favorite sweaters. But maybe sprinkling in some jewel toned tank tops will satisfy for the time being.

For me, it’s the burgundy suede tote bag I use all year round. Sundress & suede? Sign me up.

Embrace summer sports.

Growing up, college football was a quintessential part of my fall ambiance. Even though I’m craving ESPN blaring in the background while I putter around the kitchen, there are some wonderful summer sports on right now we can all get into.

And I don’t just mean the men’s World Cup. HOW cool is the Tour de France guys? (Go Jonas go! We’re all rooting for you! ) Anyways, they finish on Sunday the 26th, racing down the Champs de Elysees, after 21 stages of incredible human endurance. Always blows my mind.

Something to replicate that crisp feeling.

Fall is clean. Crisp. Fresh. You may not get that feeling when you step outside in mid July, but seek it elsewhere.

My thing has been taking an everything shower. In the middle of the day.

Turn inwards.

One of the best things about the descent into fall - an unspoken sense of lifted obligations. It’s like the world stops expecting you to be preforming all the time. And a shift towards a gentler pace begins to be celebrated again.

Begin this now. Maybe a new boundary, a canceled plan, a walk without headphones. Think small. Think subtle.

This week, it’s less walks with headphones and more walks with my husband.

And when in doubt, saying yes to room service.

Fall will come in time. But until then, let’s love where we’re at.

July.

XOXO.

And I will preface this whole thing by saying - writing about parenthood and motherhood and all that jazz is a slight departure for me, so if you’d prefer to skip this one, I totally understand. My hope though, is that the themes in this resonate with everyone. Because while I was wide awake listening to fireworks shake our townhouse (which probably has a birthdate similar to our country) I realized that the principles that made my son’s Newborn Phase so wonderful are actually just fundamental concepts that we sometimes forget to uphold.

Taking care of a baby isn’t rocket science, but it’s certainly challenging.

My husband and I often reminisce though, on how much easier the Newborn Phase was than we were expecting. I seriously thought I would be crying 24/7 from lack of sleep and incredibly overwhelmed by the puddles of spit up drowning me in my own family room.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.

I don’t want to say we had an “easy” baby, because no babies are easy. And if anything, our “Newborn Phase” was maybe even a bit longer than most. My son was a preemie, born at 35 weeks, less than the 1st percentile.

Our little peanut needed to eat extra frequently because his stomach was so small. He was also born without a suck reflex (that’s developed at around 37 weeks, fun fact), so I had to work closely with a lactation consultant to “teach him” how to breastfeed.

The first few weeks were an around the clock cycle of nursing attempts, half finished bottles, and pumping sessions. Looking back it seems so grueling. A true full time job preformed in a body that’s still bruised from birth in a mind that’s doing hormonal cartwheels. But I was unphased.

I reflect on that phase of life with nothing but fond memories.

I was making it up as I went along, as we all do. Trying to figure out what self care 2.0 looked like in the throws of parenthood.

And surprisingly, I felt pretty good. And it went pretty well.

So with that, let’s get into it. The Newborn Phase advice that no one asked for.

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Increase your time in bed

Prioritize your sleep at all costs. I’m not talking about “sleep when the baby sleeps” which in my opinion is INCREDIBLY antiquated. I’m talking about nighttime sleep.

Your sleep will be incredibly disrupted, often for long stretches at a time. You’re not going to be able to get in bed at 10pm and wakeup 8 hours later feeling refreshed and ready for a pilates class.

Go to bed earlier. I’m talking about quite literally a time in bed of 5pm to 5am if you have to. Whatever it takes.

I used to pride myself on averaging about 6.5 hours of sleep the month we brought my son home from the hospital. I’d go to bed, with him in the bassinet next to me, at around 630 every night, to ensure that by the time I actually had to get up the next morning, I could get at least 6 hours under my belt.

And I know that this is largely a function of only having one child at the time. You can’t get into bed at 5pm if you’re wrangling a toddler too. But this is just about doing what you can with the time you have.

Sleep is INCREDIBLY important always, but especially postpartum when your body is healing. Your hormones are doing crazy things and you’re leaking liquids from every orifice of your body all while trying to not be a fire breathing dragon to every human you come in contact to in the light of day.

Bottom line: sleep is about healing. Let yourself heal. No matter if your child is 2 weeks or 20 years. You deserve it.

Eat way more than you think you need to.

Speaking of healing: eat up ladies.

If you’ve gone through the breastfeeding game, I don’t need to tell you how incredibly taxing it is on the body. But for those of you who are pregnant and looking forward to a beautiful breastfeeding journey, my biggest advice for you (besides give yourself a shit ton of grace) is to eat way more than you think you need to.

Postpartum I ate a LOT.

But I also lost a LOT of weight.

And after 6 months I knew it was time to call it quits. I felt like a shell of myself. My muscle was gone my hair was thinning and my skin was dull.

It was a slow decline so I never realized it at the time. It’s so easy just focus 1000% on your child’s nutrition and throw your own to the wayside.

But breastfeeding is it’s own beast. And it quite literally turns your body into a machine. Which honestly is INCREDIBLY cool. How cool is it that you can grow a baby for 40 weeks, spit that baby out, and then start FEEDING IT?

Bows to the female body

Bottom line: machines need fuel. You cannot preform optimally if you’re not eating optimally. Whether you’re breastfeeding or chasing a toddler all day or fighting for your life in your corporate job inbox, eat up.

Set boundaries that are comfortably aggressive.

One of the best pieces of advice I received came from my doula, and it pertained to visitors.

She strongly recommended that we opt to have no visitors in the hospital, and wait to do all introductions with family until we were comfortably settled at home. As we sat there in our little consult room with her, she explained to us how precious those first few days are. And how both mom and baby are still figuring each other out. Your mother and father and mother in law and brother and sister and uncle and cousin and best friend from childhood don’t need to interrupt that time. And they certainly don’t need to hold the baby.

This may sound incredibly harsh. But I liked the sound of it. I wanted to preserve the sanctity of our newborn bubble for as long as I could.

And looking back it was one of the best decisions we made.

Because my son was born early, we spent a week in the hospital so that he could regulate his temperature and get the hang of feeding. And it was one glorious week. Just me, my husband, and my little preemie in our teeny tiny hospital room that had a perfect sunrise view.

Once we were settled at home, we of course had our parents and friends come visit. But it was on my terms, and on a timeline where I felt comfortable sharing my son with the rest of the world.

This is all to say, don’t be afraid to draw some lines in the sand. Whatever that looks like for you. This is YOUR time with YOUR baby and you’re allowed to make the rules.

Bottom line: don’t be afraid to set boundaries that seem utterly ruthless. Newborn or not, you don’t need to explain yourself to anyone.

Find something constructive to do with one hand.

This is a polite way of saying, find something to occupy yourself that isn’t scrolling Instagram of TikTok.

Newborns eat frequently. And no matter if you have them on your boob or you’re giving them a bottle or you’re pumping for the 5th time that day (yeoman’s work), you will be spending quite a bit of time on your butt. If your couch is anything like mine, it may never recover from the imprint you leave on it.

Anyways, in the first few weeks of my sons life, I found myself spending way way too much time on social media. It was just soooo easy. Sit down, pillow on lap, baby on pillow, phone propped up. My son was a slow eater too, which meant these scroll sessions lasted for 30-45 minutes. Sad.

And unfortunately for me, I didn’t discover Substack until he was almost 3 months old. But man when it did, it was like a lightbulb went off. I now stood up from breastfeeding sessions feeling inspired, smarter, more creative, and excited to tell my husband about whatever fun, funny, or wild tidbit I just saw or read.

If you’re reading this, you’re already on Substack, so you’re ahead of the game.

And I’m not saying you need to spend 6 hours a day scrolling this platform, but find something to occupy your mind that uses at a maximum one hand. I’m thinking that with baby #2, I may actually make a departure from my I-need-a-physical-book mentality, and invest in a Kindle.

Bottom line: spend less time on social media. It’s as simple as that.

Let yourself experience pleasure.

This may be the most important one of all. Because mom guilt starts early and it starts strong.

I used to feel pangs of guilt for just “watching TV all day” while my son slept on my chest. Another pang of guilt for lingering in the shower an extra minute while my husband watched him downstairs. And don’t even get me started on the first time my mom watched him so I could go into Boston for the day to spend time with friends in real people clothes.

Mom guilt isn’t something that goes away, and it’s still something I struggle with on an almost daily basis. But it changes shape and form to keep you guessing… which is fun.

A year ago it was oh my gosh I don’t think he got enough tummy time during our week in London! And last week it was oh my gosh I’m such a terrible mother my son has never had black beans!

Absolutely batshit crazy.

But these feelings of mom guilt don’t mean we’re bad moms. Quite the opposite actually. It means we care, and we care deeply.

This is all to say, yes, you are a mother now, which is truly the greatest gift of all, and I will die on that hill. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop experiencing pleasure. It doesn’t mean you can no longer enjoy yourself. It doesn’t mean you’re destined for a life of stained sweatshirts and cold food.

It means we have a responsibility to teach our children how to take care of themselves by example. I want my kids to grow up knowing that they are deserving of delicious food and soft blankets and afternoon movies and beach days with their friends and long showers.

We get to teach our kids how to love themselves, and how cool is that.

Bottom line: You don’t need to be a martyr. Regardless of your stage of life, never question whether or not you deserve nice things. Because you do.

Everything in life is pretty much a phase. Some longer than others. But no matter what ebb or flow I find myself in, I hope that I can find the time to get some sweet dreams in.

XOXO

And this isn’t a post about how to flutter around your home like a magical fairy completing all the household chores in 15 minutes while listening to a self help podcast with the straps of a red-light mask octtapussed around your face.

This is a post about time and perspective. And how I’ve found balance (read: peace) after intertwining the two appropriately.

I started writing this post 6 months ago but never felt like I had time to finish it. Ironic.

I also haven’t been too active on Substack over the past few weeks. And a few months ago, this is something I may have beat myself up for.

Not sticking to my one post a week self imposed goal has been sort of…liberating.

Because balancing mom life and work life hasn’t left too much in the margins recently.

But regardless, I have held fast to my non-negotiables.

Not the things that I think I should be doing. But the things I actually want to be doing.

• Making the bed with the utmost attention to detail

• My morning 2-mile walk with my family

• A leisurely breakfast

• A meal prep schedule that makes me feel like Barefoot Contessa

• Applying self tanner at least once a week

• Daily 10 minute voice notes to my best friends

• Afternoon ginger ale in a wine glass (my new thing)

• 10 minutes of trash TV at night

Not the things I used to feel like I should be doing.

• Posting on Substack every single week.

• Washing my hair with a socially acceptable frequency

• Always being available

• Putting away clean laundry immediately

• Having pained toenails

• Saying yes to things I’d rather pass on

• Teaching my 1-year old quantum physics

• Decorating my home in a way that says “no one lives here”.

And man, I’ve been happier recently. More on that here.

And a big portion of that has stemmed from fixing my perspective on the passing of time. I promise it’s not about getting to your destination faster or optimizing your to do list.

So with that, here’s what’s helped me reclaim my clock.

Relieve yourself of the mental burden associated with the things that you feel like you “should be” doing.

Overwhelm is frequently paired with the feeling of not having enough time. Most of us have the standard rolodex on our plate that is laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning. Most of us work. Some of us parent.

And if you said yes to all 5 of those, then 1. I see you, I am you (actually I’m lying my husband does the grocery shopping). and 2. that is already five wildly important and very time consuming items.

And yet aside from the basic responsibilities that most us carry on our shoulders, it seems like these days we’re all being bombarded with a million “should be”s: the things that society makes us feel like we should be doing.

You probably know what I’m talking about, but this can manifest itself differently for everyone.

And honestly I think we’re all walking around pretty drained as a result of all this unrealistic pressure. Time seems fleeting because we have all these things floating around in our heads that we think we need to be doing. And these self/societal imposed expectations only set us up for disappointment.

So stop worrying about filling every moment of the clock. Stop worrying about the things you think you should be doing. Not only are you not doing them, but you’re wasting precious energy fretting over the fact that you’re not doing them!!

You’ll realize you get a lot of time back when you block out the noise.

Which brings me to my next point:

HOW OTHERS CHOOSE TO SPEND THEIR TIME IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Stop looking over your shoulder, and drop the comparison game.

You’ll definitely feel like you don’t have enough time if you’re constantly worrying about doing everything you want and need to do plus everything that Sarah, Meghan, and Betsy are doing too.

Because I promise that no one really cares what you’re doing, or what you’re not doing.

So send Christmas cards, or don’t. Read one book every week, or none at all. Call your mom, or don’t. Actually no definitely DO call your mom.

Do the thing you want to do and do it FIRST.

You feel like you don’t have enough time because you’re not spending enough time doing the things you actually want to do.

Imagine for a second that you’re on a super strict diet. And unfortunately for you, the cheeseburger craving has hit in full force. If you tell yourself that you can’t have the burger and fries, chances are you’ll spend all day thinking about said cheeseburger, and feel deprived.

The same principle applies to your time. If you buy into the narrative that you don’t have enough time to spend doing the things you want to do, you’ll feel deprived. It’s that simple.

It’s scarcity mentality. Diet culture of the clock.

Doing the thing you want to do, before doing the thing you have to do - is not a lapse of self discipline. It’s the time management equivalent of indulging in a craving. It’s tricking your brain into thinking that what you want to do has already been accomplished, leaving you happier and more refreshed heading into a task that you maybe don’t prefer. Because you already got your wish list item in for the day.

Make it happen. Schedule it. Do it first. Whatever it takes.

Have chocolate for breakfast. Watch your Netflix show with your morning coffee.

I’ve gotten into the nitty gritty of it here. But part of my hyper early morning routine has been built around putting my “me time” first. Because I’m only human and I need more than 30 seconds at the tail end of the day to fill up my bucket.

This is all to say, be wary of the message that time is scarce. We have plenty. It’s our perspective that dictates how quickly the sand slips through the hourglass.

So do the damn thing and do it first. You’re not on a time diet.

Because I am here to tell you that no matter how family vacations you take or coffee dates you make or how many hours a week you spend scrolling Instagram or TikTok or Substack or reading or watching TV or watching your children laugh or absolutely grinding it out in the corporate hustle: time will continue to pass at the same rate.

We have no control over time. Only our response to it.

So free yourself from the mental burden of the “shoulds”. And do the damn things you want to do. And just watch how much time you start to have.

Growing up, I was a competitive figure skater. Ice times were early. Wakeup, get dressed, and go move.

I was used to it. And I became incapable of sleeping in.

In middle school I was the first one awake at sleepovers, hunting for a PopTart without trying to wake parents up.

In high school I was the first one to the SATs. Nice and early, with enough time to drive back home to get my forgotten calculator.

In college I frequently woke up way too early the night after a party, my BAC still soaring above the legal limit (not as fun as it sounds).

And man, adulthood is something else entirely.

Life can get weird when you wake up in the 2s. But honestly, I fucking love it.

My life as an early bird has of course changed shape over the years. But right now, it functionally looks like whatever I want it to. How freeing.

The Morning Routine is something that’s so utterly glamorized right now. And honestly, the whole thing kind of gives me the ick.

No screens. Journaling. A savory breakfast. Lemon water. Green juice. Red light. Grounding.

The list goes on.

I swear every influencer is out here with telling us to eat 20 grams of protein within an hour of waking like we’ve never heard that one before.

And YES. All of those things are great.

My morning has some of those elements. Sometimes.

But the start of my day is rooted in my wellbeing, rather than in wellness culture.

And sorry not sorry, that’s really all that matters.

My mornings are for me.

It’s okay if you use your phone in the morning.

Now stay with me here. I’m not saying click Instagram the second your eyes open. (Or ever really). I’m not saying check your email while you sip your coffee. And I’m definitely not telling you to do your online billing before dawn.

But if your days are anything like mine, they’re a little bit chaotic.

And if there are phone chores (as I like to call them) that are on my list, chances are they will not get done unless I do them on my time.

And by phone chores. I mean fun things:

• Substack writing/reading

• Pinterest scrolling

• Ordering the new pajamas I’ve had my eye on

• What in the world is the Connections today??

Remember, this is my time. I make the rules.

It’s okay if you eat something quick.

The first thing I eat every morning is two chocolate muffins. With a mini silver fork.

I swear they’re healthy. They’re made with buckwheat flour and the cleanest protein powder money can buy.

But for so long I felt so guilty that this wasn’t the most balanced most perfect breakfast.

It’s delicious, and it’s quick.

And in the mornings, I need quick. And I deserve crave-able.

Also not a hot take - but if you’re eating something small, quick, or on the go in the mornings, that’s a whole lot better than nothing. And a whole lot of people do in fact eat a whole lot of nothing. (Sad).

It’s okay if you don’t order your coffee black.

I’ll never forget my first black coffee. It was actually probably like the worlds shittiest cup of coffee. Something in Styrofoam in the parking lot of a gas station. I’m pretty sure my mom just deemed me an adult enough at the ripe age of 15 to be like sure here try this!

I proceeded to have a great practice that afternoon (figure skater, remember). And I was officially hooked.

From high school until 1st trimester of pregnancy I started my day with at least one scalding hot cup. Black, always.

I used to look at people who didn’t drink their coffee black like are you literally kidding me? This is medicine guys. It’s not supposed to be yummy?

WOOF. I was really missing the plot.

I swear one of the reasons I’m such an early bird now is because the second my eyes lightly flutter, I have one thought: matcha.

Yes it’s not coffee I KNOW. But even though my son is very much a toddler now, coffee still gives me the ick.

BUT. Every morning I make my matcha with the utmost attention to detail. With my favorite ingredients. I like it frothy. I like it sweet. I like it vanilla-y with a nutty undertone.

It is delicious, and it’s the perfect start to my day.

So if sipping lighter fluid first thing in the morning if your thing: go off queen.

But if you’re in your betty crocker era and measuring your honey with your heart: I’m with ya.

Make it yummy. Your morning will probably be a bit better.

It’s okay if you don’t break a sweat.

Old me: yoga isn’t a workout.

New me: wow time to refuel after that 8 hours of sleep.

I used to buy into the narrative that I needed a post exercise high to wakeup in the morning. My day didn’t start until I peeled off a sticky sports bra.

But now, my day doesn’t start until I finish a leisurely 2-mile river walk with my little family.

No electrolytes lost in the makings of my mornings now.

Because not everyday needs to start with an ice bath, a sauna, or a sweat. A little sunrise goes a long way.

It’s okay if you wear something simple.

Even if you wore it yesterday too.

Can we talk about the not clean not dirty pile for a second? I’m talking about that sweatshirt you’ve been wearing on repeat because you like the way it looks with your dainty gold necklace.

Trends aren’t really my thing right now. I just focus selecting what makes me feel good about myself. Usually something boyfriend fit. Probably something black.

Adopting a little bit of a morning uniform has been one thing that has incredibly streamlined my life since becoming a mom. There’s no decision fatigue when you accept that everything will get covered with yogurt anyways.

But hey, clothes are meant to be worn, stained, tattered and wrinkled. Don’t save your favorite fit for the perfect conditions, because there’s no such thing.

It’s okay if you cherry pick your habits.

I’m not a tongue scraper. I tried it. It’s just not for me.

But I do use my red light mask for 10 minutes every morning. It fits into my routine, and I genuinely enjoy it.

Life, habits, and health all became a lot simpler when I stopped trying to adhere to every single wellness girlie rule I stumbled upon on the internet.

I can pick and choose. And so can you.

It’s okay if you move slowly.

I love my mornings. And honestly since I go to bed insanely early, morning is really the majority of my day.

You’d think that since I wakeup so early I’d be able to get “SO much done”.

Sometimes that’s the case.

But a lot of my early morning hours are spent moving pretty slowly.

There’s something to be said for not rushing around first thing in the morning. I’ve found that stillness exudes confidence. And with that, comes the feeling that I hope to carry with me for the rest of my day.

Okay. Let’s recap my biggest morning guilty not-guilty pleasures.

Let time be idle. Eat something you genuinely want.

Exercise, thoughtfully. If you want.

Move at your own god damn pace.

And when all else fails, remember two things for morning time well spent:

1. Something you really want to do

2. Something you really have to do.

Either will scratch an itch.

It’s not about how I found happiness through sourdough and meditation.

And it’s definitely not any sort of “how to” or step by step guide.

It’s actually the opposite.

A simple reminder to do your own thing. Because I’m just out here doing mine.

On Saturday, I slept in. I woke up at 2:28am - 8 hours and 7 minutes of sleep according to my Oura ring.

I made the bed with the utmost attention to detail and worked through the Connections while using my red light mask.

I enjoyed a morning yogurt bowl with frozen blueberries (because frozen > fresh) and sipped my matcha while I chopped some broccoli.

I did 45 minutes of yoga. No class, no YouTube video, no app. Just the movements and positions that my body needed.

Baby woke up. We took a walk by the river, in the rain. And came home for a messy breakfast.

We made an apple cake and “played soccer” with my Pilates ball.

We explored our neighborhood golf course once the rain cleared.

I took a quick shower while my husband finished up the post-lunch pre-nap routine. I didn’t wash my hair for the 5th day in a row, but I did put on a haphazard layer of self tanner.

Some afternoon admin items ensued:

• Assembling a goodie bag for an expecting second-time mom best friend

• Daycare paperwork

• Wedding season outfit planning for the whole crew

• Chopping carrots for the morning’s soup

• A bit of trash TV. Because what in the world is going on in Summer House.

We finished a mostly-flat bottle of n/a champagne before preheating the oven.

Because this household thrives off of early dinner. And we romanticize the preparations just as much as the meal - which is honestly pretty chaotic with a 14 month old.

I gave my husband the choice between Jazz in the Background and The Great Divide. I considered lighting a candle but got distracted because duh.

Turkey burgers, roasted broccoli, stokes sweet potatoes. Always a side of avocado. And always an utter mess.

Clean up is a two man job. I was on bath duty and my husband scrubbed potato off the tile.

We spent the evening chasing baby up and down the stairs - his new hyperfixation, and chatting about vacation plans that may or may never happen.

At 5:35 p.m. I creeped out of baby’s room and crawled into bed adorned with a warm castor oil pack and blue light glasses for 20 minutes of “we really need to see how this episode ends”.

Spoiler alert - we didn’t finish it, because I was dead tired from a full day of having a great day.

Happiness is funny, because like 90% of it is just weeding out the things in your life that feel forced or performative.

Here are my tips.

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Get the fuck off Instagram.

I can’t tell you where Cindy Loohoo’s last vacation was.

Unless you send me a picture of two pink lines, I won’t know you’re pregnant.

And I won’t be able to congratulate you on your engagement until I run into you and your rock at Whole Foods.

Ditching Instagram has me calmer, happier, and significantly more aloof.

I feel more beautiful. My freckles don’t bother me anymore. And neither does some frizz.

My morning routine is aesthetic to my eyes only. And I haven’t been pressured to buy something in a hot minute.

I’ve reclaimed my attention span.

Ditching the rat-wheeled comparison game has only benefited my confidence, my marriage, and my day job.

I’m not saying deactivate it completely immediately, but try just starting small. Pick a time every day, and deem it your “Instagram time”. Only allow yourself to go on for 10 minutes during that window. And I promise over time you’ll start forgetting about it entirely.

Fix your digestion.

I seriously think I walked around uncomfortably bloated for 10 years thinking it was normal.

Years of processed packaged “health” foods and too much this and not enough that wreaked havoc on my poor poor belly. I would go days without pooping despite eating a ton of fiber thinking that a high protein smoothie with chia seeds would cleanse me.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.

I finally stopped trying to copy other people’s diets, and figured out what works for me.

I can’t stress this enough: pay attention to how different foods make you feel. We all have different genetic backgrounds and all process foods very differently.

Listen to your body, it knows what you need.

Cut out alcohol.

July 15, 2024: a pretty cheap glass of sav blanc and some chicken nachos. Two days later, two pink lines. And now almost two years alcohol free.

Not a hot take - going sober is great for you. And I can promise you it’s not that hard. Although, I’m someone who never enjoyed the “buzz” anyway.

But I do love a beverage. I love sipping something. I love sitting at a bar. For this reason, I’ve done two posts about my favorite n/a alternatives. You can find them here and here.

Things that have improved since cutting out alcohol entirely: my anxiety, my sleep, my skin, my relationships, my confidence.

Say no to things you don’t want to do.

Now this one is groundbreaking: if you don’t want to do something, you really don’t have to.

Don’t agree to plans you’ll spend days dreading. Life is too short.

And gently saying no allows space for you to either propose an alternative, or spend your time entirely differently.

You don’t need to blindly say yes to everything.

We over complicate things, but a good life is really just a bunch of good days strung together.

Move your body how you want to. Not how the wellness industry tells you to.

I used to obsessively follow fitness influencers, copying their weekly workouts down to the reps and sets.

I lived and breathed the rhetoric that cardio was bad and that strength training was the only exercise worth my time.

I forced myself to “lift heavy” and squat, curl, and lat pulldown my way to burnout.

I told myself I liked it. That it helped me destress. But deep down I was entirely disconnected to my body. I kept telling myself this was THE WAY.

It wasn’t until my son was born, and I had to take a forced 2 months to recover, that I realized the 100% strength training life wasn’t for me.

When I eased back into movement, I realized that a balanced approach was more my speed. (Who knew).

Before the strength training industry got me, I was big into yoga. I grew up a competitive figure skater, and have always loved the pairing of grace, mobility, strength and fluidity.

I’ve found that 70% pilates style movement and 30% gentle and controlled strength training is my sweet spot.

I’ve been a lot happier since embracing movement that brings me joy. And thus, is sustainable.

We’re all built differently. Strength training is great. Running is great. Yoga is great. Swimming is great. Chasing your toddler is great. Just move, and don’t overcomplicate it!!!

Fuck your timeline.

Dream job by 25. Married by 30. Kids by 33. Dream house with a wrap around porch by 35.

The mental math is excruciating.

This one goes hand in hand with getting the fuck off Instagram, but I promise you’ll be a hell of a lot happier when you stop trying to adhere to the artificial timelines constructed entirely in your head.

Your life story is not a race.

Stop saving the best for last.

I grew up saving all the marshmallows in my Lucky Charms bowl for last.

A harmless example, but a tricky habit and a slippery slope, that followed me into adulthood.

TV after studying, chocolate after vegetables, rest after work.

It’s a fine line between discipline and deprivation.

Carve out time for the things that bring you joy. Eat the desserts that bring you back to childhood.

And always, always fill up your own bucket first.

When I was little my parents would always say, the secret to happiness is

“Someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to.”

And at the end of the day, they’re pretty spot on.

We had what’s called Intrauterine Growth Restriction (IUGR).

Essentially, my placenta was trash.

At 35 weeks, I went into labor spontaneously. He was ready.

Small, but mighty.

And within the first year of his life, he went from less than the 1st percentile, to weighing in at the 57th!!!

When he was born, feeding him became my entire identity. He was a hungry boy, and he had a lot of growing to do.

I breastfed for 6 months, a feat I’m incredibly proud of.

At that point, we made the decision to transition to formula. And unfortunately, choosing a brand is trying to unstick yourself from between a rock and a hard place.

So we picked ByHeart. A great clean-ish brand. We thought.

November rolled around, and all ByHeart containers were recalled due to their nationwide botulism outbreak.

Time to switch to another lesser evil.

Unfortunately, botulism in infant formula isn’t the only thing we need to worry about. My husband frequently trolls Consumer Reports, remarking on how disappointed he is that so many of the snacks marketed towards toddlers are brimming with heavy metals.

I’m a crunchy-ish mom. I’m a busy mom. I’m a working mom. But I’m also I’m just doing my best mom.

And right now, that looks like spending the wee (wee) hours of Sunday mornings cooking and baking like a fiend for my hungry boy.

This stage won’t last forever. And I know packaged snacks and pouches are in our future. But for now, this is sustainable. And it makes me happy.

If you’re interested, keep reading for everything I meal prepped for my son for the week.

This isn’t a “My Toddler Life: What I eat in a day” post. But it’s meant to raise a big middle finger to all the food companies trying to stick artificial bullshit into our growing babies foods.

Because we shouldn’t have to decide between an extra hour of sleep and toddler nutrition.

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On the menu this week:

• Apple breakfast cake

• Spinach egg and mozzarella bake

• Coconut oil roasted apples with cinnamon

• Einkorn flour banana sheet pan pancakes

• Avocado buckwheat muffins

• Curry roasted carrots

• Roasted broccoli

• Steamed Japanese sweet potatoes

• Steamed stokes sweet potatoes

• Roasted chicken thighs

And last but not least, his favorite:

• Frozen peas

Some details below:

Apple breakfast cake

A now staple in this household, it was actually his birthday cake recipe, which I “frosted” with yogurt and berries. Super soft, super baby friendly . I mix this with greek yogurt and he gobbles it up for breakfast.

Dry ingredients: 2 cups almond flour, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1 tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp baking soda

Wet ingredients: 1 egg, 1 cup unsweetened applesauce, 1 cup finely grated apple, 3 tbsp melted butter or coconut oil, 1 tsp vanilla extract

Mix wet ingredients well, and stir in dry. Layer in a 8 inch cake pan, or spread evenly on a baking sheet.

Bake at 350 for 22-26 minutes. It will be soft!

Spinach Egg Mozzarella Bake

Another breakfast favorite, weekday friendly.

Whisk 2 eggs with a generous portion of melted butter. Stir in shredded mozzarella and desired vegetable (we love frozen spinach, it’s easy).

Baby likes some spice, so we always toss in some of this before popping in the oven.

Bake at 350 for 22-25 minutes or until cooked through.

Roasted Apples

Dice apples and mix with coconut oil. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Spread evenly on a parchment lined baking sheet.

Bake at 350 for 40-45 minutes, flipping/stirring halfway through.

Banana Sheet Pan Pancakes

His current hyperfixation snack. And no mess, so I can’t complain.

Mash 1 large banana. Mix with 1 egg and 2-3 tablespoons of milk and a dash of vanilla extract.

Stir in 1/4 cup flour of choice (I rotate between buckwheat and einkorn flours), and 1/2 tsp baking powder. Add a pinch of cinnamon and mix well.

Spread evenly on a parchment lined baking sheet and bake at 350 for ~18-20 minutes.

I highly recommend tripling this recipe. I’ve finally learned economies of scale.

I’m fortunate to have a good eater on my hands.

I’m also fortunate to be able to set aside a decent chunk of time every week to prepare him simple, nutritious food.

And lastly, and most importantly, I’m so incredibly fortunate to have a healthy son, after a scary third trimester post-IUGR diagnosis. Surprisingly common, if you or someone you know is dealing with IUGR, please please message me. My hope is that my son’s story of resilience and health can be a beacon of hope for concerned and confused expecting mothers.

And with that, I’m off to scrub some potatoes (we go through about 15lb a week!)

Maybe it’s the placebo effect, but the Act As If mantra from last week really helped me get my act together.

This week though, it’s something else running laps in my brain.

Ask for it.

Whether it’s through manifestation, meditation, prayer, or screams into your pillow.

Ask for what you want.

Like attracts like. But that starts with your mindset, and your outlook.

If you think great things are coming your way, you’re right. If you think shitty things are coming your way, you’re also probably right.

Maybe I’m just a sucker for criminal positivity. But hey, it hasn’t killed me yet.

What if things work out better than you could have imagined?

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 2:53 AM: This is the hard hitting stuff people need.

A true creature of habit, I have continuously repurchased the same $10 handheld milk frother on Amazon for the past 3 years. It’ll last 6 months and unexpectedly die just as I’m getting ready to froth something.

Well I am proud to report - the cycle has been broken.

I made the adult decision and upgraded to a $30 model. And maybe I don’t need to tell you this, but you get what you pay for.

And this is the best $30 I’ve spent a long time. My matcha is actually so perfectly frothed, and the amount of joy it’s giving me on this Monday morning is insurmountable.

Two lessons from this:

1. It’s the little things. It always has been, and always will be, about the little things.

2. Try something new. You might just find your best thing since sliced bread.

And in other news, I’m really looking forward to finishing this podcast episode during my little morning lift:

Tuesday | 6:12 AM: Lingering on a Tuesday.

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I could have written, if I really wanted to. But I chose to be present.

My husband and I spent the last week in London - a well deserved extra long weekend for both of us after his actuarial exam.

It was so wonderful.

We joke that we essentially did nothing. No sightseeing. No museums. No monuments.

On the itinerary:

• 30K steps a day. Strolling. It was glorious.

• The most amazing meals:

  • Akoko: If you haven’t had west African food. You need to.

  • Kol: I promise you haven’t had Mexican food like this.

  • AngloThai: The elevated Thai food that inspired this week’s soup.

• Great purchases:

  • A few pairs of new spring jammies from my favorite brand.

  • All the specialty food items. Including this pesto my husband now loves more than life itself.

  • The cutest baby pajamas from this brand.

  • Obviously goodies: where have these nut butter filled chocolates been my whole life?

And the bonus?

We never once felt jet lagged. Because we really do already live life on London time.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 5:35 AM: The Twilight Zone

What even time is it?

We arrived home from London at 10:30 last night, which was somewhere deep in the middle of the night bodyclock time.

My brain was torn between trying to deliriously make a dent in unpacking and needing to scrub my entire body from international travel germs.

Luckily I did get some good sleep on the flight, so I’m not feeling too rough this morning.

Side note - I would not recommend watching Inception during a turbulent transcontinental flight. Follow me for more tips on how to maximize travel anxiety.

Anyways, this morning has been a full fury of unpacking and caffeinating.

We had the most amazing food (and matcha) in London, but I’m so happy to be home to my home creations. Local honey, I missed you.

Tuesday | 2:32 AM: Acting as If

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But femininity isn’t ruffles or pearls or anything to do with pastel colors or mascara choices.

My great-grandmother passed away 11 years ago.

She would have been 112 this winter. You do the math. She lived a full life.

Growing up I saw her as an ultimate icon. Showing up to the breakfast table in her cotton robe with a diamond ring the size of Denmark and checks freshly dusted with rouge (on top of yesterday’s rouge).

I would come home from shopping trips as a little girl, so anxious to show her my purchases.

I’d emerge from the foyer in a faux fur vest from Limited Too and walk the catwalk over to her perch where she’d sit with her hands folded in her lap and her purse quite literally hanging around her neck.

She’d purse her lips and nod, bringing her thumb to her pointer finger and with a little gestural oomph would mutter, “now that, has style”.

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Tiny but mighty, we often lost her in the clothing racks of Macys. But we could usually find her in the men’s section clutching a pack of white undershirts. “Herb needs more”.

I think Herb passed away with no less than 6 unopened packs of Hanes in his drawer.

If we weren’t shopping we were sitting around the kitchen table.

Wrinkled hands shuffling 52 Bicycles, jumbo print. Her diamond banging on the black marble without a care in the world.

She would laugh and laugh and laugh as I took my turn. Beaming with pride at the 6-year-old card shark she had created.

She wasn’t girly. She was feminine.

And of a different generation. Not our parents, not our grandparents. But a generation of women that exuded femininity before it became a Pinterest board.

I don’t have many spring goals this year. I may do some decluttering, and I’d love to read a book or two.

But what’s really on my mind this season: The Feminine Takeback.

Reclaiming the refined.

Because the feminine icon finds endless ways to weave grace into her daily life.

In the kitchen

Indulge in natural sugars and fresh bread. Be generous with butter.

Burn your toast if you like it that way.

Always have two dish towels in circulation at at time. It’s okay if they’re worn with love.

Sip from clear glassware and oversized ceramic mugs. Use your great-grandmother’s silver daily.

Make dark chocolate and runny yolks part of your daily diet and let the fizz from sparkling water tickle your nose.

Always lay out placemats for dinner. Set out forks. Fold napkins. Even if they’re Bounty.

Buy yourself flowers and trim the ends with care so they perkily perch in their simple vase.

Save room for a goodie after dinner. Danish butter cookies. A hefty piece of fudge. A well salted bowl of popcorn.

In the flesh

Wear simple undergarments. Patterns are for picnics. Choose lace occasionally, and tastefully.

Own multiple bathrobes for multiple purposes.

Aim to stay current, but classic.

Be wary of needles to the face. Remember the beauty in aging gracefully.

Maintain simple and clean nails. Mostly nude, but bright red on occasion.

Invest in under eye patches. Thin slices of chilled cucumber work just as well.

Discover a skincare routine that stands the test of time. Nothing flashy, just what works for you.

Stay soft, supple, hydrated. A bit of lip mask before bed goes a long way.

Take rest days. Plural.

Show up to the breakfast table with graceful bedhead. It’s okay you snoozed your alarm.

Wear loungewear with purpose. And purchase cashmere with intention.

Love mornings. If that’s your thing.

Find love for soft circumferences. The feminine icon doesn’t pride herself on deprivation or definition.

In relations

Be an amazing gift giver. Always thoughtful. Just what they needed and carefully wrapped.

Laugh easily because it’s free.

Be kind, but not at the expense of your conviction.

Bring security to friendships and romances. Exude confidence not only in yourself, but also in others.

Understand that a simple nod and a closed-mouth smile speak volumes. Not all agreement has to be verbal.

And remember you’re a woman not a baby deer. You can be feisty when it’s fun.

In time and space

There’s no Medal of Honor for undue strength. Feel your emotions.

Let yourself weep when needed. Allow yourself to grieve. Breakups. Deaths. A prior version of yourself. The end of The Notebook.

Don’t take anything too seriously. Stress will make you ugly long before it will kill you.

Permit spontaneity. And welcome it. Life isn’t always on the calendar.

Seek satisfaction. Through the foods you consume, through how you spend your time, and through the home you curate.

Minimize states of greed. You already have everything you need.

Know when to leave things unfinished. Don’t carry a sense of urgency in your purse.

And have faith. In something, in anything. And devotion. To something, to anything.

And I miss her every day.

Well that’s sort of how this week felt.

But I leaned heavily on self care levers to carry me through, and as we close out the week, I’m feeling better, good even. Physically, but also mentally.

An underrated wellness hack? Honesty.

Both with others, and with yourself.

I’ve had a number of hard conversations this week. With friends, with my boss, with myself.

And I can tell you - after every single one of them: I felt significantly lighter.

We are not meant to internalize everything. And hiding our true feelings will only leave us feeling isolated and resentful.

You don’t need to be a full heart on your sleeve kind of person. But I do advise that you quit bottling things up in the name of people pleasing.

I gave up trying to be everything for everyone all at once. And it leaves a hell of a lot more energy in the tank to just be myself.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 3:17 AM: Not regretting yesterday’s relaxation.

If you caught last week’s post, you may remember that I chose to spend Sunday very much not “getting ready” for the week ahead.

So as a result here I am at 3 a.m. shredding chicken for my son’s lunch.

Last week was a bit of a dumpster fire.

Yes, I leaned on my non-negotiables - nutrition, movement, time outside.

But did I feel optimal? No.

This week isn’t shaping up to look any “less busy”. But wellness wise, I can do a bit better. Starting with the things that I tend to let slide.

My tweaks for the week:

• 5 minutes of midday breathwork. We will be setting an alarm to remind us!

• Prioritizing sleep. This means taking our supplements (hello, apigenin) and not letting middle of the night brain interfere.

• Overnight castor oil packs. I have been feeling incredibly inflamed recently (hello work stress and first postpartum period all in one week!) so we seriously need something to move the needle on this water retention.

The goal isn’t necessarily to feel “better”. But rather just a tiny bit more like me.

Tuesday | 3:52 AM: A rain or shine family.

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There was no green juice or meditation and I very much did not get 8 hours of sleep every night.

This week was simply about keeping the lights on.

I’m slammed at work right now, which doesn’t leave much time in the margins.

And I am all too guilty of also letting some healthy habits slide when it feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day.

But I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my morning non-negotiables.

The things I do no matter how many emails are marked as high-importance:

• I sit down while I eat breakfast. I refuse to be a that girl standing at the kitchen sink shoving a banana down my throat.

• I move my body. Weights. Pilates. Yoga. Stretching. Anything.

• I get outside. I always say that my day doesn’t really start until I’ve gotten my dose of fresh air.

These are simple things, yes.

But they serve a purpose.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 2:43 AM: I’m sick of telling myself I don’t have time.

The Monday morning after spring forward Sunday seems like the perfect time for some hard truths - if you want to do it badly enough, you’ll make time for it.

In 2023, I crushed through books. Goodreads hated to see me coming. This continued into the greater part of 2024 - until 1st trimester hit me like a ton of bricks and I gladly traded in pre-bed reading for another 30 minutes of sleep.

Since then, I’ve read maybe…4 books. Total. Not nothing, but close to nothing. And I’ve been hardcore on the excuses train about it.

I don’t have time.

I’m too tired.

I have things to do on my phone at night. (What does that even mean???)

So I’m giving myself some tough love and I’m making the time.

Fact: I am very tired at night, so I don’t really feel like reading.

Also fact: every morning I sit in bed with my red light mask for 10 minutes.

DING DING DING. Routine swap incoming.

This morning, instead of spending 10 minutes doing my Duolingo and NYT puzzles, I set a timer for 10 minutes and picked up my book instead.

I can struggle through the Connections while I’m waiting for my boss to join our zoom call.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about how to maximize the clock, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all about doing the best you can, with the time that you have.

So some Monday tough love for you. What are you telling yourself you don’t have time for?

Tuesday | 3:01 AM: Prizefighter

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It feels like there are a million things we should be doing to “prepare” for spring, and I’ve been beating myself up a bit for not having the time.

I’d love to bake lemon poppyseed everything and have a perfectly aesthetic home with every item of clutter appropriately placed in it’s respective donation bin. I’d love to place clear vases of appropriately trimmed florals in every corner of the house. I’d love to go to the farmers market once a week and read for 20 minutes a day and get lymphatic detox massages and do pilates on our patio.

Maybe I’ll do some of those things, and maybe I won’t.

Because I’ve realized that obsessing over spring preparations is entirely missing the point of the season.

Spring isn’t fast and flowers don’t go from buds to blooms overnight.

It’s not about overhauling your entire life in a weekend. It’s about intentional, sustainable, and subtle shifts.

• Baking with berries instead of cacao

• Filling weekends with simple plans. Nothing overly taxing. Nothing with an undertone of “I’d rather not”.

• Opening up the blinds to let in lingering afternoon light.

• Rediscovering some of my parent’s vintage ceramics. No need to buy anything new.

• Putting honey + vinegar in flower water to make them last longer!

And lastly, my words for March: grounded, growing, grateful.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

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Monday | 3:47 AM: From the bed, to the couch.

I’ve never been a huge March person. Maybe it’s because we spring forward, and call me crazy but I’m not a huge fan of that shift.

It’s sort of Spring, but it’s also very very much not spring. Especially considering I think we still have over 2 feet of snow on the ground.

Anyways,

March wellness goals:

• Sit on the couch for 5 minutes every morning. I can still catch up on emails and sip my matcha, but doing it from “the bunker” in our oversized performance velvet couch partially stained with breast milk, feels luxurious.

• Wash my hair more than once a week (a stretch goal).

• Crawl out of my sweatsuit cave and start preparing my closet for spring. I found this post from to be particularly inspiring, especially if it’s very much still winter where you are.

Tuesday | 3:23 AM: A slow season

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And lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my morning staples. The things that really make me feel like wow this was a perfect morning.

• Waking up before my alarm (within reason)

• Completing the connections (with no mistakes) while I red light mask

• Getting a pot of soup simmering before I sit down with my matcha

• An empty inbox, giving me time to read Substack instead of emails

• Baking something fun for baby’s breakfast. Specifically, something apple-y to make the kitchen smell intoxicating.

• And the icing on the cake - something I’ve been meaning to do.

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Some mornings are more hurried than others, and it’s not all sunshine and rainbows over here at 3am. (In fact, it’s no sunshine, and all 10,000 lux lamp).

But regardless of how my days start, I’m always grateful that they do.

The gift of an ordinary morning? Talk dirty to me.

And with that, welcome to Mostly Mornings.

Monday | 3:33 AM: Sheets and sourdough.

I am here to tell you: Sundays don’t have to mean chores. They don’t have to mean laundry and meal prep and cleaning.

Mine definitely used to, but I found that ever since I started allocating life’s demands across the workweek, my weekends have become infinitely more enjoyable. I’m able to actually relax and enjoy time with my baby boy. And I’m not running around like a crazy person during his nap times trying to fold towels or clean a toilet.

This Monday’s items: sheets in the wash, and sourdough starter(s) get fed. We’re also currently in the middle of yet another blizzard, so perfect excuse to crank the heat and get these babies bubbling. Breakfast soup is also on the docket.

Tuesday | 2:49AM: If you online shop before the sun is up, does it even count?

Not going to lie, I’ve been sort of beating myself up for essentially wearing the same pants everyday. I live in these. They’re perfect, wonderful, cannot say enough good things, etc. etc. But would I like some variety? Maybe. Should I fix what isn’t broken? Would I be a type A woman if I didn’t try?

Anyways, this morning’s readings to potentially inspire a bit of change in my wardrobe:

• the activewear brands you’ve never heard of

• The Art of LOUNGE

And because I’m always sort of shopping for a vacation that hasn’t been booked yet, I especially loved Holiday! by .

Okay my moms, what are we wearing these days?

Wednesday | 3:45 AM: I am unwell.

A year ago, I walked into the hospital, 35 weeks and 3 days, thinking I was having Braxton hicks. They told me I was 7cm dilated, and I pushed out my son an hour later.

5 weeks early. No breathing tubes. No lung support. He was in our room that night.

We spent a week in the hospital because he was so small, a product of an unfortunate growth restriction diagnosis (stupid placenta). He came into this world less than the 1st percentile, and is now tipping the scale at the 63rd.

Reflections on my 1st year of motherhood:

• Labor is the coolest thing I will ever do. Talk about primal.

• Beware of 2am Reddit. But if it keeps you awake for midnight feedings, that’s okay too.

• Don’t sleep when baby sleeps. Self care when baby sleeps.

• Full-time moming is also full-time cardio.

• Eat lots of butter, wash your hair once a week, and invest in loungewear that makes you feel good.

• The snuggle me lounger was a game changer for us the first few months. And Roar Roar Lion was a game changer for us the last few months.

• Don’t beat yourself up for literally anything, you’re already doing the most.

Thursday | 3:09 AM: A little bit of dinner prep

Cabbage is an underrated vegetable, and not just for slaws and summer bbqs. Recently we’ve been loving slow cooked cabbage in the oven. Tender, caramelized, a little umami, a little sweet. Our current favorite winter veg side.

To prep cabbage, cut lengthwise (once or twice), wash well and let dry thoroughly. Preheat oven to 375F. Disperse cabbage leaves (or hunks) onto a parchment lined baking sheet, and spritz liberally with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt + pepper + garlic powder. Flip leaves and repeat dressing. Bake for 25-30 minutes. Flip (remove leaves that already look super charred) and bake for another 15-20 minutes depending on doneness preference. Enjoy.

Friday | 3:24 AM: Shined my great-grandmother’s silver.

If I had a running list of things I find incredibly chic, at the top would be nice silver. Not just having it, but using it. Daily. I know Tita is smiling down, watching me polish her spoons while I sip my morning caffeine.

Here’s a super simple way to clean silver:

Line a bowl, pot, or rimmed tray with aluminum foil (shiny side up). Arrange silver on top of foil and sprinkle liberally with baking soda (add a touch of salt for an extra boost). Pour hot or boiling water all over the silverware, enough to fully submerge it. Let soak for 5-10 minutes, and gently massage the tarnish away with a cloth or paper towel. Voila. All clean.

Saturday | 3:53 AM: Snow day self care.

Is it just me, or do weekends with a one-year old feel like cardio? Gone are the days of relaxing everything showers. My son is in a fun phase where his naps are barely long enough for me to shave my legs. So we’re sneaking in little bits of self care when we can.

We woke up to a beautiful blanket of snow Saturday morning. It felt like a good day for a fun cozy breakfast, so I made sheet pan blueberry pancakes while my face mask fermented. Once baby was awake, we attempted to venture out for a sunrise walk. We didn’t make it on the full loop, but it’s the effort that counts (and the natural sunlight. I’m looking at you, ).

Sunday | 2:57 AM: Soup preparation.

Sundays are for soup, and a little bit of reflection. One question I like to ask myself when looking at the week ahead - what would make this week feel successful? I keep a running list in my notes app of quick bullets that serve as anchors for my intentions. I jot anything top of mind, big or little, silly or serious,

Sometimes it’s a to do list, sometimes it’s a to be list. Either way, it guides me through the next 7 days of organized chaos.

Do something for yourself. Plan something to look forward to. And eat good food.

May your week ahead be filled with as much morning as possible.

XOXO, Natalie

Looking for more?

Check out recent newsletters below for some inspiration on how to level up your wellness:

• February Beverages for Health and Happiness

• Better, Not Perfect

• Thirty Minute Mornings

• Recent Routine Upgrades

• My Evening Routine Starts at 2:00 P.M.