There’s something about this season that stirs the heart—maybe it’s the sunlight stretching into the evening, or the way milestones seem to bloom all at once in springtime. Or maybe it’s just that I find myself standing at the edge of a brand new chapter in parenthood, holding a full heart and a thousand memories.
Parenting is a journey of phases—each one filled with challenge, beauty, magic, and transformation. I remember the beginning so vividly: the mystery of getting a tiny newborn to latch, the anxiety of trimming impossibly small fingernails, the exhaustion that lived in my bones, and the awe that filled my soul. Then came that very first giggle—a sound so pure it stopped time.
Soon, we were living in the whirlwind of toddlerhood. A little tornado of energy taking everything apart just to understand how the world works. And yet, in between the messes and tantrums, there was dancing in the kitchen, story time snuggles, and laughter that bounced off the walls. Each phase asked more of me than I thought I had to give—and then gave back more joy than I thought I could hold.
As she grew, so did I.
The school years brought their own rhythm: spelling words and science projects, new friendships and heartbreaks, independence blooming slowly, quietly, beautifully. Every new skill she gained was one more step away from needing me like she used to—and that, too, was its own kind of ache. And its own kind of wonder.
And now, here we are. My daughter is about to graduate high school. I can hardly write that without tears. She is a radiant, thoughtful, fiercely capable young woman. She has accomplished so much and is stepping into her future with courage and fire. I am beyond proud. I am also, in ways I can’t quite articulate, heartbroken. Not in a bad way—but in the deeply human, mother-way that understands what it means for your child to begin to fly.
This is a new phase. A new kind of letting go. A new kind of love—one that cheers from the sidelines and whispers from afar. And though it is bittersweet, it is also thrilling. She is exactly who she is meant to be, and I am so honored—so incredibly honored—to be her mom.
To all the parents out there riding the waves of your own phases, I see you. Every chapter matters. Every moment, messy or magical, is shaping a life. And every phase—every single one—is a love story.
by Kim Goyette
This week’s 23-minute Hatha Yoga Class, Yoga for Cultivating Love, is all about recognizing the people you surround yourself with and acknowledging if they fill your cup with love. Through heart and hip opener postures like a dolphin and low lunge, we will magnetize the highest vibrational energy of love into our being. Yoga with Meditation Mutha is for everyBODY. Please join me in this opportunity to intentionally cultivate love in your life. Enjoy!
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