Friends, have you ever had a day where you woke up and it felt like Eeyore was your spirit animal? Been there. Done that. In fact, I’ve been there a handful of times the past two months. Our two little boys, my hubby, and I passed cold after cold to each other, and then I topped it all off with my first (and hopefully last) bought of mastitis. It was six long weeks of being out of our regular routine, and it threw me for a loop.
It's such a relief to start the day on my own terms. When I wake up with the kids, i.e. to a crying baby or jabbering toddler, my heart rate immediately skyrockets and I start the day in a whirlwind. Now, with my 4:30am (yes, you read that right!) wake up, I get to start the day intentionally. And wow, does that put me in a good headspace and place emotionally to love my boys and myself well.
How I’m establishing not a morning routine but a morning ritual. I love that distinction. A ritual is something sacred. A ritual is something you don’t compromise on. A ritual is done the same way time, and time, and time again.