Most days don’t look dramatic.
They don’t come with milestones or breakthroughs or clear markers of progress. They’re made of small decisions, constant attunement, and noticing things most people never have to think about.
Caregiving, for us, looks like anticipating needs before they’re spoken. It looks like monitoring energy levels, sensory thresholds, and emotional cues. It looks like adjusting plans quietly, without announcement.
Some days are heavy.
Some days are surprisingly light.
Often, both exist at once.
There is joy here, but it’s not loud. It shows up in regulation after a hard moment. In laughter that comes unexpectedly. In being understood without explanation.
This life asks for presence more than productivity. Flexibility more than control. Listening more than fixing.
Nothing about an ordinary day looks remarkable from the outside.
But inside it, everything matters.
The Mom And The CaregiverHolding motherhood and caregiving in the same body ⭐
The Mom And The Caregiver 