How I’m Romanticizing Motherhood Without Losing My Mind

Lately, I’ve been on a mission: romanticize the heck out of this season of life… while still being realistic about the fact that I probably haven’t washed my hair in four days and my toddler thinks sleep is optional.

We all see the dreamy reels: sunlit mornings, babies in linen overalls, sourdough rising in the background while Mom sips a coffee and journals. 

And listen, I love the vibe. 

But I also live in real life, where I’m soggy puffs off the walls and saying “not in your mouth” 47 times before 9 AM.

Still, I’ve found ways to bring that magic into my actual day-to-day life. 

Here’s how I’m doing it.

Starting the Day with One Beautiful Moment

I used to think I needed a whole slow morning routine to feel calm. But with a one-year-old? That “relaxing” routine very quickly became impossible!

Now, I just pick one thing that makes the morning feel special.

Sometimes it’s opening the blinds and letting the sunshine pour into the living room while I make breakfast.

Sometimes it’s putting on a feel-good playlist while Wyatt plays in the morning. Even if it’s chaos, it feels like a little party.

And sometimes, it’s taking five extra seconds in the mirror to put on mascara and some earrings.

Looking for Beauty in the Mess

There’s something weirdly poetic about a living room covered in toy trucks and cracker crumbs. Like, this is the good stuff. This is life.

So instead of waiting for my house to be clean to feel happy, I snap mental photos (or actual ones) of the chaos. Wyatt curled up with his monster trucks sitting in his chair? Core memory. A sink full of snack containers and a sleepy smile from my baby? Still beautiful.

We don’t need perfection to feel present.

Letting Go of Guilt

You know what kills the romantic vibes faster than anything? Guilt. Guilt for screen time. Guilt for not being “productive.” Guilt for needing space.

I’m learning that romanticizing motherhood doesn’t mean pretending it’s perfect. It means embracing it all — the magic and the meltdowns.

It means allowing myself joy without guilt, softness without shame, and breaks without explanation.

That’s the vibe I want Wyatt to grow up around. A mom who shows up, mess and all, and still finds wonder in the ordinary.

Curating My Own Soundtrack

This one’s silly but it works. I’ve got a “Main Character Mom” playlist and I blast it when we’re cleaning, dancing in the kitchen, or driving with the windows down.

It makes everything feel more cinematic. Even Target runs.

Slowing Down (When I Can)

Motherhood has taught me that not every moment has to be optimized. Not every second needs structure. Sometimes the most romantic thing I can do is nothing.

Laying on the floor while Wyatt climbs over me like a jungle gym? Watching clouds instead of checking my to-do list? That’s the magic. That’s the core memory I want to remember.

Final Thoughts

Romanticizing motherhood isn’t about aesthetic perfection.

It’s about choosing to see the beauty, the softness, and the enoughness in your actual, real life. It’s about catching the golden hour light on your baby’s cheeks even if you’re covered in applesauce and drool.

So here’s your permission slip: romanticize your messy, beautiful, real life. Even if you’re doing it with unbrushed hair and cold coffee.