Finding My Rhythm Again

I finally have a routine!

Again.

After about six months of never quite knowing what was coming next, a full house without much structure, and more chaos than I’ve endured in a long time, a new rhythm has finally emerged.

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

Now that Layla is back in school and both Alex and Eva have secured gainful employment with steady schedules, my house is no longer a constant revolving door.

And considering I work from home, you can imagine just how disruptive that revolving door can be!

My mornings begin at 6:25 a.m.

Archie, my grandpup, arrives around 6:45. And if I’m not up and ready to greet him, believe me, the entire neighborhood will hear about it!

He hangs out with me in the kitchen while I clean up the dishes that have magically appeared overnight.

I’m perpetually washing dishes.

Then we make coffee and prepare Layla’s breakfast: a toasted bagel topped with cream cheese, strawberries, honey, and chia seeds. I prep her lunches on Sundays, so those are easy to grab on the way out the door.

With my piping hot black coffee in hand, I head to my office and quietly begin my workday while the rest of the house starts to stir.

Eva is the first out the door around 7:30. She heads over to pick up Grace, and since they both work downtown, the girls get to ride to work together.

I absolutely love that for them!

Layla is next, getting picked up around 7:45, which is about the time Alex hits the shower. He’s typically out the door by 8:15.

And then?

Fifteen blissful minutes.

Fifteen glorious minutes to clean up after everyone.

And, naturally, wash more dishes.

Around 8:30, I take a little break from work, just as everyone else is settling into their own day.

My sister often comes over, and we head out for a walk together. On mornings when she doesn’t, I take myself and my Addy girl for a walk around the neighborhood.

A little fresh air, some movement, and either good conversation or a little quiet time with my own thoughts.

By 10 a.m., I’m usually knee-deep in work calls, and that carries me through most of the day.

And there you have it.

My morning routine.

I realize that, on the surface, none of this sounds particularly remarkable. Kids heading off to school and work. Coffee. Breakfast. Dogs. Dishes. So many dishes.

But to me, it’s so much more than a schedule.

It’s a sense of order after a season of uncertainty. It’s the comfort of knowing what comes next. It’s having enough breathing room to enjoy the little things instead of constantly reacting to whatever the day throws my way.

It’s creating space for the things that matter to me, even in the middle of all the ordinary responsibilities that come with a full house and a full life.

Because I’ve learned something about myself over the years.

I don’t need every day to be exciting. I don’t need every hour to be filled. And I certainly don’t need everything to go according to plan.

But I do need a little rhythm.

Without it, life starts to feel chaotic instead of intentional.

And an intentional life is exactly the kind of life I want to live.

One piping hot cup of coffee, one morning walk, and one sink full of dishes at a time.