A while back, Jake pulled me aside and (lovingly) pointed out that I’d been getting really agitated in the mornings. I was short with the kids, rushed, occasionally yelling. It wasn’t fun hearing that, but he was right. It was the nudge I needed to actually stop and look at why mornings felt so hard.
Here’s what occurred to me: I had never actually audited my day before.
I’d wager a guess that most of us don’t. We just power through the routinely hard parts, assuming that’s how it is and will be forever, and we white-knuckle our way along. But what if some of those friction points were actually fixable, with–dare I say–potentially pretty small changes?
Here’s what I did: I sat down when I was not in the middle of a chaotic moment (that part is key) and I mapped out the rough spots in our week. I wasn’t trying to sit down for a complain-fest, but rather just to take an honest inventory of the moments when I get most flustered.
For us, mornings were …mostly… fine, up until the last 20 minutes. That’s when everything always unravels. Brushing teeth and hair, getting backpacks, saying goodbyes to dad, it’s all a lot in a short amount of time. And then, inevitably, I realized this was the moment I started to get on edge: right as we walk out the door, one of the kids would want to run back upstairs to grab a toy for the car. (Every. Single. Morning.) Cue my we’re-gonna-be-late-to-school stress.
So… Guess what? I asked them to pick their toy the night before. They set it on the table. They know the rule is that they can bring it in the car the next morning on their ride to school. There will be no going upstairs to pick one out, milliseconds before our departure.
That’s it. That was the fix. And it’s genuinely been changing the energy of our mornings. So simple it’s almost silly to share, but I wonder how many people out there have little tweaks within reach that could become a game-changer for the family tone.
Another one: after school, we were having sibling arguments almost every day, the second we walked in the door. They’d walk in, spot a toy, and immediately start fighting over it.
Now we have a simple rule and we talk about it before we go inside: go potty, do your chores, then you can talk about or play with toys. It sounds small, but it has made a big difference.
Overall, I’d say it’s worth pausing to ask what’s working… and what’s not.
One more thing, and I think this might be the most underrated piece of advice I’ve ever received: silliness can solve a surprising amount of problems. Even when you aren’t in conflict, being silly can help keep life joyful and put things in perspective.
A friend told me that years ago, and it’s always floating around in my brain because it applies so well to both parenting and marriage.
Small example: Recently, Jake got home from a work trip (he’s responsible for ethics and compliance at his company) and I had AI generate an official-looking ethics and compliance memorandum that I hung on our front door for him to find.
Even though he’d had a long day of travel, it put a smile on his face as soon as he walked in.
Little moments like this can shift the whole mood of a home.
So here’s my challenge for you:
The next time you have margin, grab a blank piece of paper and ask yourself: where are the rough spots in our week? Then ask: could there be a small fix here that I haven’t considered before? Or even: What’s something silly I could do to lighten the mood?
I’d love to hear what you come up with.
Head over to my Substack and leave a comment. Have you done anything silly or creative that lightened the load or brought a smile? Changed a routine that was driving you crazy? I want to read about it.
In Progress,
Alyssa 💛
