Happy Mother's Day

 This Mother’s Day, while re-doing my blog, I stumbled upon a post I had written when my daughter was 3 years old. 

I expected to skim through it, edit it and add it to my blog diaries. Instead, I sat there reading every line with a smile — and nostalgia slowly creeping in.

It wasn’t a milestone post or a big parenting moment. It was simply a detailed account of one completely ordinary day from the toddler years.

Back then, life revolved around snack times, storybooks, summer camp drop-offs, afternoon naps, laundry, bedtime routines, and trying to find tiny pockets of “me-time” between it all.

Those days felt exhausting. But reading it now, all I could see were the little moments hidden inside the chaos.

The tiny toothbrush obsession. (This obsession for tiny little things still exists by the way)
The lunch-time storytelling.
The cuddles before naps.
The evening walks.
The bedtime ritual of recounting her entire day before she slept.

Nothing extra-ordinary, just little rituals that we had created. Now, those are the memories that stay!

Today, I’m a working mom with an 11-year-old who is independent, thoughtful, funny, and growing up far too quickly. The routines are completely different now. 

Lunches are at school, dinners have conversations and quizzes.
Her hobbies and after-school activities have replaced the naps.
She sleeps by herself, with a huge pile of novels by her bedside.

She no longer needs me in the same physical way she once did. Yes, cuddles still exist, but it is definitely different. The dependence faded slowly, and so quietly that I never even noticed when those little years slipped away.

You don’t notice the last time they ask to be carried.
The last afternoon nap.
The last silly bedtime ritual.
The last time they need help with every tiny thing.

The phases that feel endless while we’re living inside them eventually become the moments we miss the most.

It all fades so gradually that you don’t even realise an entire phase of life has ended until years later, when you accidentally reopen an old blog post and suddenly find yourself missing the exhaustion you once complained about.

So this Mother’s Day, I’m sharing that old post not because it was special at the time — but because ordinary days often become the memories that stay with us forever.

To the mothers deep in the toddler years right now —
the ones surviving on cold coffee, interrupted sleep, constant mess, and endless repetition —
I know it probably feels never-ending some days.

But one day, years from now, something tiny will bring it all rushing back:
a small toothbrush,
a bedtime story,
a forgotten photograph,
or an old blog post buried deep in your drafts.

And you’ll realise those exhausting ordinary days quietly became some of the most beautiful memories of your life.

I’m sharing that old post below because I want to remember her exactly as she was in those years —
tiny, chatty, curious, exhausting, hilarious, completely dependent on us, and somehow making our entire world revolve around her without us even noticing.

https://www.themotherducksays.com/2026/05/day-in-life-of-sahm.html

Happy Mother’s Day ❤️

– The Mother Duck Says 🦆