The Wake-Up Call That Changed My Whole Day

This morning didn’t go how I planned.
But if I’m being honest, most of them don’t anymore.

Lillian went to bed super early last night — one of those crash-hard, no-nap days. I knew the moment her little eyes closed that the trade-off was coming. And like clockwork, she popped up at 4 a.m. this morning. Eyes wide. Full of energy. Zero regard for my REM cycle.

We played, we snacked, we snuggled.
And then she crashed again mid-morning — way earlier than usual.

Which meant:
No shared nap.
No afternoon rest for me.
No cozy quiet hour where I get to recharge before the second half of my day begins.

Instead, I found myself staring at the ceiling, already dreading the hours ahead.
She’s going to be up forever.
I’m already tired.
I still have work to do.
I won’t have help until my husband comes home tonight.

I was frustrated.
Not because of her — but because of the way the day was slipping out of my control.
Because I didn’t get that tiny window of pause I thought I needed.

But then…

She woke up.
Rubbed her eyes.
Crawled over to me.

And whispered:
“I love you so much, Mommy.”

That was it.
That one little sentence.
It hit like lightning in my chest.

Suddenly the to-do list didn’t matter.
The overwhelm melted just a bit.
The tiredness was still there — but it wasn’t the focus anymore.

What was?

That I get to do this.
That I don’t have to leave her every morning for a commute or a 9–5 I hate.
That I do get to be there for all the messy, beautiful, exhausting moments.

Because for years, that wasn’t my reality.

There was a version of me who cried in the car before clocking in.
Who would give anything for one extra hour with her baby.
Who dreamed of building a life that revolved around family, not deadlines.

And now that I’m here — in the life I once prayed for — I owe it to that version of me to see it clearly.
To honor the chaos and the sweetness.
To let gratitude take up more space than frustration.

So today?

We’re painting until we’re both covered in it.
We’re chasing the dogs in the backyard
We’re playing with the labubus until the sun goes down.

I’ll catch up on work when she sleeps.
I’ll refill my cup tomorrow.

Because today, I get to live the life I used to dream about.
And even on the hard days — that’s the most sacred thing I’ve ever built.

Love you always,
Angeon