Find Your Window. Protect It Like a Meeting You Can't Move.

That didn't happen by accident. And honestly, it didn't happen until I was burnt out enough to finally do something about it.

Last year was a lot. We were selling a house, building another, navigating aging parents, and somewhere in the middle of all of it I was pregnant with twins while my husband was working out of town for sixteen weeks. Sixteen weeks. I was running everything at home, running a marketing department remotely, and running completely on empty.

I had spent years going straight from the school dropoff line to my desk, and from my desk straight into making dinner, running kids to activities, managing the house, and collapsing into bed somewhere around 11pm (if I was lucky). I was never choosing myself. I was always choosing everyone else.

Something had to change.

So I found my window.

Some mornings that looks like getting to my desk early and knocking out a project before my coworkers are even at it. Sometimes it's paying bills, doing laundry, or giving the dog a bath. (Glamorous, I know.) I still want to find my way back to working out more regularly too, but this is a season of life and I'm working on it in real time. Some days the win is simply a few intentional minutes of doing something for me before the world needs something from me.

But this morning? I grabbed my Folgers black, headed down to the garden, pulled some weeds, and watered my fruit and vegetable garden. When we built our current home I knew I needed a garden on the back half of our rolling acre lot. No buildings, no obstructions, just a breathtaking view, beautiful sunsets, and the sounds of nature. It is one of my favorite places on earth and it is ten steps from my back door.

And then I watched Raeleigh lose her mind in the tall grass.

Raeleigh is my 10-year-old black lab and our second baby, long before the younger four ever came along. She is the gentlest soul, the kind of dog who lets toddlers tug and pull and climb without ever flinching, a huge mama's girl who has been by my side through every season of this life. She is aging gracefully and beautifully.

But this morning? She was a brand new puppy again. Nose down, tail up, chasing the scent of rabbits through grass so tall you could barely see her little head poking through the top.

I stood there with my coffee and just watched her and smiled.

It wasn't productive in the traditional sense. It was better than that.

It was quiet. It was grounding. It was mine.

By 8:30 a.m. I'm back at my desk. Zoom meetings, coordination, editing, researching, digging in until around 5:30 p.m. when the kids and Chris come home and the whole beautiful flurry starts again. Activities, dinner, baths, bedtime. Chris and I joke that we don't sit down until 10 p.m. most nights. The twins go down by 7:30, then it's the middles with storytime and lights out by 8:30... except for Harleigh, our resident night owl, who will absolutely not go to sleep until she physically collapses. Every single night. 😄

That hour in the morning? That's what makes all of the rest of it work.

I haven't always protected this time. I'm still not perfect at it. But I'm learning that choosing yourself isn't selfish, it's how you show up better for everyone else.

Find your window. Protect it like a meeting you can't move.

What does your grounding morning routine look like? Are you in a season where you're protecting that time or one where you're still trying to find it?