Embracing the season you are in

By Mareli Mosca

There was a time I could wear white. A time when mornings were quiet and unhurried, when I could sip a hot cup of rooibos in bed and hear myself think. When my handbag didn’t carry biscuits, wet wipes, and plasters.

These days? Well, I haven’t worn white or any light coloured tops, really ,in years. My coffee is cold by the time I get to it, if I even remember where I left it. My days are filled with sticky fingers, noise, crumbs, emotions, and love… so much love.

This is not the “I have it all together” phase of life. This is my messy middle. The everything everywhere all at once season. But it’s also the heartbeat of my motherhood story.

I used to fight it. I used to mourn the version of me who was always on top of things, who had time for adult ballet classes, who wore mascara that didn’t smudge. I’d grumble as I swept up cereal, mutter under my breath when another plan unravelled thanks to a nappy explosion or a missed nap, and count the hours to bedtime as if that’s when life could begin again.

And I’ll be honest, there were moments I’d glance at my husband, heading off to work with both hands free, or going for a run without first negotiating world peace over the last cookie and I’d feel the resentment bubble up. Not because I begrudged him joy or freedom, but because I missed mine.

But here’s the truth that softened me: he’s not the enemy. He’s not at fault. It’s the season I’m in. Or rather, it’s my expectation that we should both be experiencing it the same way. The demands on me look different right now, but it doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way forever. And holding on to bitterness only keeps me from experiencing the beauty in front of me.

And then one day, at one of these beautiful beaches where we live, I saw the sweetest beach café .... and it clicked. Life right now is like running a beachfront café in peak December. It’s wild. It’s noisy. Sand is everywhere. Nothing runs exactly on schedule. But if I lean into it instead of resisting it, I’ll catch the magic. The ocean breeze. The happy chaos. The messy, glorious aliveness of it all.

Here’s what helped me shift from that tired “poor me” victim mindset into joyful ownership of this season:

1. Stop benchmarking against a version of yourself that didn’t have your current responsibilities. She wasn’t better, just different. And she would’ve been in awe of what you’re juggling now.

2. Rewrite the narrative. Instead of saying “I have to do this,” try “I get to.” I get to hold this child who won’t sleep. I get to shape a life. I get to show up, imperfect but present.

3. Laugh. Often. Humour and laughter and finding the fun has become my survival tool. Because let’s be honest, when you’ve just used your last wet wipe to clean up a spill and the youngest has done his business before you could get a fresh nappy on, what else is there to do?

4. Let go of the ‘perfect day’ myth. Perfection is not the goal. Presence is. Progress is. Eye contact, deep breaths, and knowing that this mess is sacred ground.

5. Give grace, to him, and to yourself, you are both doing your best. You’re both tired. And sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let each other be, without keeping score.

So no, this isn’t the season of white clothes and lazy Saturday lie-ins and romantic date nights out on a whim. It’s the season of fingerprints on glass and toys everywhere.

It’s the sticky kisses and exhausted giggles chapter. And while it may not be graceful, it is real. And real is beautiful.

One day, the house will be quiet again. I might even wear white. But I have a feeling I’ll miss the noise. The stickiness. The chaos.

Because this phase? It’s mine. And I’ve finally stopped trying to fast-forward through it, and just embrace it.