Children Give the Best Gifts.
Today, my son gave me the biggest gift.
And I’m so thankful to have raised such a kind-hearted child.
These last few months have been a struggle. I haven’t felt like the best mother. And that’s not something I take lightly. Parenting is the most important job in the world to me. I believe it’s the greatest gift God could have given us—the ability to love someone so deeply, to feel so connected to a human being who came from your flesh... it’s the most rewarding and heart-filling experience I will ever have in this life.
So when my son said to me:
“I’m so lucky to have a mom like you. You’re fun. You play with me. You love me.”
—I felt myself come back.
Back to the version of me who shows love effortlessly. Who leads with patience. Who communicates in a way that helps her child feel safe, seen, and encouraged to express whatever is on his mind.
It didn’t matter that he said this from the toilet, while I was in the next room folding laundry. The moment those words came out of his mouth, I felt like I was floating—lifted by his love and approval.
This summer was the worst I’ve ever felt mentally. Anxiety and depression had me in a chokehold. I had to lean heavily on my friends and family for support. I wasn’t showing up for my son in the ways he was used to—because I couldn’t. I was just trying to get through each day, barely holding my sanity together. I was running a business. Taking care of animals. Going through a move. Sorting out paperwork and negotiations for a divorce.
It felt like I was balancing teacups—if one toppled, they’d all come crashing down and burn me.
Being an amazing, fun, loving mother is my top priority. My son’s happiness and mental health come before anything else. But this summer, we fought a lot. And I hated how we were interacting. There were still good days… but there were also days where I couldn’t seem to connect with him at all.
And honestly?
Summer break is hard for moms. Period.
Entertaining your child 24/7, trying to keep them off screens, fighting the daily battle over video games and YouTube—it’s draining. And for me, adding relentless, crippling anxiety into that mix made things feel nearly impossible.
My son knows I love him more than anything. I say it to him constantly. And maybe I’ve been beating myself up too much over things that are probably normal for someone in my life stage. But normal doesn’t feel good enough for Nico. He is an extraordinary child with a heart of gold. He doesn’t deserve subpar. He deserves a parent who truly sees him—and today, he showed me that he sees what I’m trying to do.
Recently, I visited a friend’s house and realized my home wasn’t kid-friendly enough. I’d spent so much energy making it look beautiful—decor-wise—but I hadn’t created a space that encouraged fun or felt warm and playful. Her home was full of opportunities for her son to thrive. Seeing Nico so happy in that environment was eye-opening. I knew it was time for a change.
So I started making small but meaningful adjustments. I let Nico guide me. I asked what he wanted. I searched Facebook Marketplace and Amazon for fun, engaging toys. I stopped obsessively cleaning—stopped making the house feel like it needed to be market-ready at any moment. Letting the house be “lived in” has brought a sense of comfort.
Most importantly, I started playing with my son again. Really playing. And every time I do, the most amazing side of him comes out. He’s open, kind, loving, and free. The words he says during these moments are pure magic.
After building a Lego Lamborghini together, he looked at me and said,
“This has been a really great morning. I feel warm inside.”
That moment was my reward. And honestly? I felt the same.
I’ve shifted my focus—from tasks and productivity to presence and play. I’m learning to slow down. To stop rushing. To put the checklist down and pick up the laser guns. I’ve made his nightly “spa baths” with candles and music a ritual—because he loves them, and his joy fills me to the brim.
And what’s happened as a result?
We’re bonding. We’re growing. We’re rebuilding trust.
There’s less whining. Less fighting. Fewer meltdowns. And when I do have to parent him—when I set boundaries or say something he doesn’t want to hear—I no longer feel guilt for losing my temper or apologizing for behavior I regret.
Instead, I feel proud.
Because I’m parenting from love, not survival. With kindness, not chaos.
This shift in focus has been transformative. And I owe that to three major influences I’ve brought into my life.
My new therapist. She specializes in PTSD, trauma, anxiety, and depression—and she’s been a game changer. Her guidance has helped me feel calmer, more grounded, and more present.
God.
Jesus.
(Though not in that order of importance.)
I’ve put intention and energy into reconnecting with my faith and allowing the Holy Spirit to guide me—and it’s completely changed how I show up in the world.
I am so much happier than I was even a month ago.
I’m hopeful. I’m looking forward. I’ve stopped focusing on the past and how it hurt me. I’m now focused on the life I’m building—for myself and for Nico.
I’m so proud of him. And I’m working hard to become a mother he can be proud of. Someone he can always count on. I want him to look back and know, without a doubt, how fiercely I loved him—how he was always the center of my world.
I’m excited for this next chapter.
Excited for me.
Excited for Nico.
And I hope he keeps giving me these little reminders of reassurance along the way.