I didn’t realize how much my daughters were paying attention.
But now I hear it in the way Harlem asks for quiet time or how Hunter speaks up without hesitation.
They care for themselves with a confidence I didn’t find until adulthood.
They set boundaries. They listen to their needs. They move through the world like they know they belong.
Every time I witness it, I feel a quiet kind of pride.
The healing I’ve been doing for myself is becoming their starting point. And that means everything.

Parenting pre-teens without a perfect script means showing up, messing up, and trying again. Some days I feel like I’ve got it all together. Other days, I’m raising my voice when I swore I wouldn’t or tapping out of a sister squabble with a quick, “Go ask your dad.” And of course, they just stand there, staring at me like I spoke another language. It’s not always graceful, but it’s honest, full of love, and sprinkled with laughter. We’re all figuring it out, one unfiltered moment at a time.

I remember the first time I saw my daughter, Harlem.
I was lying on an exam table in the radiology department, clutching the crinkly paper beneath me, staring at the monitor where her tiny heart flickered steadily across the screen. That little heartbeat, steady and strong, was the beginning of everything.

We talk about motherhood like it’s one thing, but it’s really a thousand little things, all happening at once. The Periodic Table of Motherhood is my way of naming those pieces: the love, the tears, the caffeine, the prayers, and everything in between. It’s not scientific, but it’s deeply real. And it just might remind you of how powerful you already are.