Finding the Hidden Joys
Parenting is not something to get through.
There’s something about that moment when you first open your eyes in the morning. Before your feet even hit the floor, everything rushes in at once—the dishes, getting the kids ready for school, the laundry that somehow never ends, remembering to eat the right breakfast, take the vitamins, drink the water, work out, show up well for work, be successful, be present. And that’s on a normal day. Add in the unpredictability—kids getting sick, school being canceled, snow days, long summer days that need filling, homeschooling, toddlerhood, newborn life where sleep is scarce, and caffeine feels essential, and suddenly the weight feels overwhelming.
Parenting can feel so heavy. I am just as guilty as anyone of looking at it all and thinking, How am I ever going to get through this? How do I raise my children well, educate them, care for them when they’re sick, and still stay on top of the house, the meals, and the responsibilities? But here’s what I’m slowly realizing: parenting is not something to get through. It’s not something we endure until we reach a finish line where life suddenly feels lighter or easier. This season, whatever version of it you’re living in is not a placeholder for real life. It is real life.
Parenting is not something to get through. It’s not something we endure until we reach a finish line where life suddenly feels lighter or easier.
Yes, it’s hard. But it’s also filled with quiet, unbelievable, often-overlooked joy. We live in a culture that benefits when parents feel burdened, when we believe we’re doing it wrong unless we buy the product, take the course, or scroll for the solution. We’re encouraged toward comparison instead of presence, connection through screens instead of community. But there is no simple fix for parenting, and there is no magic pill that turns us into Mary Poppins overnight.
What does exist are small, sacred moments, hidden joys, that remind us why this work matters at all. The first time your baby says “mama.” When a little hand slips into yours without being asked. Tiny eyelashes resting against your chest during a contact nap. The pride on your child’s face when they write their name for the first time. The moment reading clicks, and suddenly they want to read everything. Watching your child accomplish something new and realizing you helped them get there. Or the quieter victories: waking up five minutes early and feeling steady, getting the workout in you’ve been putting off, meeting a deadline, balancing it all just for today. These moments don’t make parenting easy, but they make it meaningful.
If you’re having a hard time finding a hidden joy today, start small, almost unreasonably small.
Look for something living. Step outside and notice something green or growing. A tree that’s been there longer than your worries. A plant pushing through the dirt. Life continues quietly, without your help.
Create something simple. Stand in your kitchen and make something you love—or something someone you love enjoys eating. A warm drink. A familiar meal. Nourishing bodies, including your own, still matter on hard days.
Move your body, just a little. Go for a walk. Stretch. Step outside for fresh air. If you want to change a thought, move a muscle. Movement has a way of loosening what feels stuck.
Do something kind for someone else. If you have the capacity, send a note, a text, hold the door, or make someone smile. Sometimes joy finds us sideways, through another person.
And if you’re struggling to find joy in this parenting season at all, remember this: a season is just a season. It has a beginning and an end. It will shift and change and move forward. Your child will grow and develop, even on the days when it feels like time is standing still. This stage may be hard right now, but it will not be hard forever.
These small joys won’t fix parenting, and they won’t make every day easy. But they remind us that even here, especially here, there is goodness. That we don’t have to rush through this life to get to something better. And that sometimes the joy isn’t missing at all. It’s just hidden, waiting to be noticed.
If this resonated with you, I’d love for you to share it with someone who might need it today. And if you feel like sticking around, you’re always welcome to subscribe and receive more reflections like this in your inbox. I’d also love to hear from you. Feel free to reply and share a hidden joy you’re noticing in your own parenting!