My Maternity Leave Personal Curriculum
If you know me, you know I have approximately zero chill.
I love a challenge. I love a project. I love a checklist with little boxes waiting to be marked off. My brain is happiest when it has something to chew on.
One of the hardest parts of maternity leave with my first son wasn’t the sleepless nights or the endless laundry (although there was certainly plenty of both). It was that my mind suddenly went from running at full speed to…not having much to do. I loved caring for my baby, but I also missed feeling more mentally engaged. I found myself reaching for something to think about beyond the next feeding or nap.
So before this maternity leave began, I decided to give myself a little curriculum. I wasn’t looking to optimize maternity leave or squeeze productivity out of every nap. In fact, I wanted the opposite. I wanted something playful. Something that would gently nudge me toward the things that make me feel like me without becoming another obligation.
This year, my word is attune—paying closer attention to the things that have always been there but are easy to overlook in the rush of everyday life. It felt like the perfect lens for this season.
Instead of goals, I made categories:
Family adventures. Reading and personal growth. Photography. Home and lifestyle. Faith and spiritual formation. Nature and beauty.
Each category is filled with tiny ideas rather than big accomplishments. Visit a new playground. Read a classic. Print Instax photos. Memorize Scripture. Watch a sunrise. Notice wildflowers. Organize one drawer. Take one photo every week that tells the story of this season.
None of them are urgent. None of them are required. They’re simply invitations.
An invitation to notice.
An invitation to keep learning.
An invitation to create.
An invitation to be fully present during a season that I know will pass far too quickly.
The best part is that there’s absolutely no pressure to finish it. If the days get full of spit-up, contact naps, and keeping two little boys fed and loved on, that’s okay. This isn’t a race to the finish line. It’s just a collection of gentle reminders for the moments when I have a little margin.
We’re about five weeks into maternity leave now, and I’ve loved it so far. Not because I’m crossing everything off, but because it’s helping me stay connected to the things that fill me up alongside motherhood.
I’m also collecting little pieces of this season in a small album—photos, favorite quotes, scripture, gratitude lists, funny moments, things the boys do that I never want to forget. A tangible reminder of what this maternity leave actually felt like.
I’ve always loved creating little bucket lists for different seasons of life. Not because I think every moment needs to be productive, but because I know myself well enough to know that intentionality helps me slow down and pay attention.
And I think that’s exactly what Attune was always asking me to do.
Welcome, Wesley!
Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.
Wesley joined us at the end of June and we could not be more in love.
Welcome to the world, little man!
Mini Book – St. Louis Adventures
After several days of adventures in St. Louis with Kevin’s grandma, I wanted to give her something she could hold onto. Not just photos buried in a camera roll, but a little book she could flip through whenever she wanted to remember those days.
Every time we travel or spend meaningful time with friends or family, I try to make one of these mini books. They’re simple, but they’re one of my favorite ways to preserve memories.
I always include photos, of course, but I also make sure to add the little details—the places we went, the things we laughed about, the words we said, and how the moments felt. Those are the parts that fade first, and they’re often the parts that matter most.
There’s something about turning pages that a phone just can’t replace.
In a world where thousands of photos live on screens we’ll probably never scroll back to, I think tangible memories matter. They invite us to slow down. To revisit a moment instead of just remembering that it happened.
And I love giving these books away because they’re really about more than the memories themselves. They’re a way of saying: “We noticed.” Thank you for planning the adventures. Thank you for making time for us. Thank you for creating memories worth keeping.
Time, effort, and intentionality are gifts. This is just my favorite way of honoring them.
Mother’s Day
Feeling all the emotions this Mother’s Day as we prepare to welcome our second little dude into this world. I can tell my body is starting to crave the slow down in this season, which is the perfect time for me to be more present and truly feel these last weeks. ❤️
The Year of Attune
I started thinking about my word of the year back in November when I realized nothing had really come to mind yet. Some years the word feels obvious and steady by fall, and other years it doesn’t fully surface until I’m goal setting in December. I’ve learned not to rush it. The right word has always found me when it’s ready.
This year felt different though. I was newly pregnant, and I knew that would shape whatever word emerged. I didn’t want to force something sentimental just because of the season, but I also didn’t want to ignore how much this year already feels like a threshold.
So I did something I’ve never done before — I asked ChatGPT for suggestions. I shared my past words (Joy, Rooted, Adventure, Nourish, Thrive, Connect, Rest, Open, Delight, Engage, Experiment, Whole, Play) and asked if there were patterns. Seeing them all laid out reminded me how cyclical my choosing has been — expansion, grounding, delight, connection — a rhythm between outward adventure and inward anchoring.
I initially thought maybe my word would lean into pregnancy in an obvious way: something like Bloom, Nurture, or Wonder. Those were beautiful, but they didn’t feel quite settled.
Then I realized I was craving something slower. Less performance, more presence. I kept coming back to words like slow, savor, space, enough. I’ve been deeply impacted by the idea that life isn’t waiting for me in some bigger, better version of my circumstances. The life I want is already here. I don’t need more space, more time, more readiness — I need gentleness with what is.
“Enough” almost became my word. I loved what it represented: contentment over striving. Gratitude instead of “if only.” But it still felt slightly static.
When the word attune surfaced, something clicked.
Attune felt alive. It held slowness without stagnation. It held gratitude without forcing positivity. It felt like listening instead of proving. Like tuning an instrument before playing — aligning first, acting second.
Attune means paying attention — to my body (especially now), to my children, to my intuition, to the subtle cues in my home and relationships. It means moving at the pace of this season instead of the pace of pressure. It means trusting what I sense. It means responding instead of reacting.
After a year of Play — spontaneity, adventure, “why not?” — Attune feels like the exhale.
Not smaller.
Just deeper.
This year, I don’t want more noise. I want more noticing.
More listening.
More presence.
More trust.
More enoughness.
2026 will be the year of attunement.
🌿 Attune Definition
To adjust or bring something (or oneself) into harmony, accord, or a sympathetic relationship, often involving becoming more aware or responsive to something like sounds, needs, or trends, essentially meaning to get in tune or acclimatize. It can refer to musical tuning or, more commonly, to a figurative sense of fitting in or understanding a situation deeply.
Key meanings:
- To Harmonize: To bring into agreement or balance, like tuning a musical instrument or aligning feelings.
- To Adjust/Accustom: To adapt or acclimatize a person or thing to a new environment or situation.
- To Make Aware/Responsive: To become sensitive or receptive to something, such as needs, signals, or nuances.
🌿 2026 Intentions — Attune
1. I will attune to my body and trust what it tells me. I listen without judgment, honor my limits, and respond with care rather than pressure.
2. I will attune to this season, not rush past it. I release the urge to hurry toward what’s next and stay present with what is unfolding now.
3. I will attune to my children with patience and curiosity. I respond to cues instead of reacting to noise, trusting connection over control.
4. I will attune to joy, noticing it in small, ordinary moments. I slow down enough to savor what’s already here.
5. I will attune to gratitude by practicing enoughness. I resist the pull of “if only” and choose contentment in the life I have.
6. I will attune to my energy and move at a reasonable pace. Rest is not earned — it is essential, and I welcome it without guilt.
7. I will attune to my intuition and let it guide my decisions. I trust my inner knowing, especially when the path feels quiet or subtle.
8. I will attune to what truly matters and let the rest fall away. I make space for what nourishes me and gently release what distracts or depletes.
🌿 My 2026 Mantra
“I attune to the rhythms of my body and my life, moving at the pace of this season. I choose presence, gratitude, and enough—letting them shape who I am becoming.”
🌿 My Vision Board
Cheers to a whole new year and all kinds of new adventures. ❤️