There is a special kind of happiness that comes when my kids are all together in one room. It’s the simple joy of shared moments, the laughter, the chaos, and the connection that fills the space between us. For me, this is my happy place. It’s not about grand outings or extravagant vacations; it’s about having my children close, experiencing the world together, and being present for each other in the most intimate of settings—our home.
As a mother, I do not believe in leaving my child alone in a bed or crib for long stretches of time, unless it’s absolutely necessary. I know there are moments when a child needs rest, when their body or mind requires a break, but I find it deeply troubling when children are left isolated for long periods, separated from the world around them. There’s so much to experience and so much to offer, and I feel that every child deserves the opportunity to be part of the world, not tucked away in a room while life passes by.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned as a mother is understanding when my child truly needs time alone. It was never easy for me when my daughter, Cassie, had to stay in her crib for long periods due to agitation and neuro storming. She would become overwhelmed, her body and mind caught in a storm that I couldn’t always fix. It broke my heart on those days when I had to leave her in the quiet of our room, away from the rest of the family, when all I wanted was for her to be with us, feeling safe and surrounded by the love of her siblings.
But in those moments, I had to remind myself of the importance of giving her space to settle. The body and mind sometimes need time to recover, to reset. It’s a lesson in patience, not just for Cassie, but for me as well. I learned that respecting her need for quiet and solitude was just as important as the moments when we were all together. It didn’t make it any easier, but I realized it was necessary for her healing and for her well-being.
Even in the midst of those hard days, there is always a deep, unwavering desire in me to keep my children close. Nothing feels more right than having them all together, where they belong. There is an indescribable peace in the noise and the mess, in the shared meals, the stories, and even the disagreements. My heart is fullest when my kids are together, navigating life as a unit, learning from each other, comforting each other, and growing together.
There’s something deeply meaningful about the way children interact with one another, about how they form bonds and memories that will shape them forever. Watching them play together, supporting each other, and simply being in each other’s company is the greatest gift I could ask for as a mother. It reminds me of the strength and love that runs through our family, and it fills me with gratitude for the privilege of being their mother.
I know there will be moments when my children need to be apart, when they need space to grow or to heal, and I will respect those moments. But there’s no denying that my heart aches for the times when I have to leave one of them behind, especially when they need more than just physical rest. The challenge of balancing their needs with my desire to keep them close can be overwhelming, but it’s a balance that I’ve learned to navigate over the years. I trust that in those moments of separation, they are being cared for, and that the love we share will always bring them back together.
In the end, it’s the togetherness that brings me peace. The noise, the laughter, the mess—it’s all a beautiful reminder of how fortunate I am to have my children in my life, how blessed I am to be able to provide them with a home where they are loved and supported. And while I respect the times when each of them needs space to rest and heal, my heart will always find its truest joy when we are all together in one room, where we belong.
