Doubt has been a companion of mine for as long as I can remember. It sneaks in before I step on stage. It shows up when I sit down to write. It whispers when I wonder if I’m doing enough as a mom. Doubt is loud, but I’ve learned how to quiet it.
I want to share a few things that help me, in case you need them too. Because if you’ve faced doubt—and I know you have—you’re not alone. And you don’t have to let it run the show.
Name it
The first step for me is recognizing when doubt shows up. Instead of letting it swirl around, I call it what it is. “This is doubt. It’s not truth.” Naming it keeps it from controlling me.
Remember past victories
When doubt tells me I can’t, I remind myself of the times I already did. Every finished song. Every show I thought I couldn’t get through but did anyway. Every tough day I survived as a mom. Those victories are proof that doubt is lying.
Take small steps
Doubt loves to overwhelm. It says, “You’ll never finish. You’ll never make it.” So I break things down. I write one verse instead of a whole song. I take one deep breath before the stage lights hit. Each small step silences doubt just a little more.
Surround yourself with truth-tellers
We need people who remind us who we are. I lean on friends, fellow moms, and other musicians who speak encouragement when I forget my worth. They don’t sugarcoat things; they remind me of my strength. That kind of community is priceless.
Turn to what grounds you
For me, music is grounding. It’s also faith, journaling, and quiet moments with my kids. When doubt tries to spin me in circles, these things pull me back to center. Find the practices that anchor you, and hold them close.
Take action anyway
One of the best ways I’ve learned to beat doubt is to act in spite of it. Play the song. Share the words. Say yes even when your voice shakes. Doubt doesn’t disappear before action—it usually disappears because of action.
I won’t pretend doubt is gone from my life. It still pops up, sometimes louder than I want. But I know it doesn’t get the final say. Not when I choose truth over lies. Not when I keep moving forward.
So if doubt is creeping into your world, know this: you are stronger than you think. You’ve already come through so much. And just like me, you can take the next step—even if doubt tags along.
And maybe that’s the real secret. Doubt doesn’t disappear overnight. But when you keep showing up anyway, you prove to yourself that you’re more powerful than any whisper in your head.
When I think about what I want to pass on to my kids, it’s not a list of rules or achievements. It’s the lessons that shape who they are as people. The values that will carry them through joy, heartbreak, challenges, and celebrations. The truths that give their lives rhythm and meaning.
As a music mom, I view life like a song. Every choice, every relationship, every word we speak becomes part of the melody. My hope is that my kids write a song that’s strong, kind, and true. And for that, these are the lessons I want them to learn most.
Be Kind
Kindness is power. It’s not weakness. I want my kids to see people, not just walk past them. To help when they can. To use their voices when someone else can’t. The world always needs more kindness, and it starts close to home.
Stay Curious
Curiosity makes life richer. When we ask questions, we grow. When we try new things, we discover parts of ourselves we didn’t know existed. I want my kids to stay curious about the world, about others, and about themselves. Curiosity keeps life exciting and keeps us moving forward.
Work Hard
Nothing worth having comes easy. I want them to know that effort matters as much as talent. Hard work builds resilience. It shapes character. It teaches patience. Just like music, the best results come from practice, persistence, and passion.
Be Honest
Truth matters. I tell my kids that mistakes will happen, but honesty gives you a way to heal and rebuild. Lies only make the cracks wider. Honesty, even when it’s hard, creates trust. And trust is the foundation of every relationship that matters.
Take Care of Yourself
Rest is not laziness. Taking care of your mind, your body, and your soul is essential. I want my kids to know that their well-being matters. Because when they care for themselves, they’re stronger and more able to love others well.
Don’t Fear Failure
Failure isn’t the end; it’s the beginning of growth. Every wrong note teaches you how to play the right one. I want them to embrace failure as a step toward learning. To keep trying, even when it’s messy.
Be Grateful
Gratitude changes everything. It turns what we have into enough. I hope they notice the small things: a kind word, a shared laugh, a meal together. Gratitude softens the edges of life and creates joy even in hard seasons.
At the end of the day, these lessons mean more to me than any accomplishment. If my kids grow into kind, curious, grateful humans who work hard, care for themselves, and live with honesty, I’ll know I’ve done something right.
Because those are the lessons that build a life worth remembering.
Every August, I feel the same mix of excitement and hope. The start of a new school year feels like a fresh notebook: blank pages waiting to be filled with lessons, laughter, and maybe a few unexpected adventures.
As a music mom, I can’t help but think of it like the first notes of a song. The tempo hasn’t been set yet. The melody is still finding its way. We get to help our kids decide how the tune will play out. For me, the best place to start is with gratitude and curiosity.
Gratitude is a quiet superpower. It reminds us to see what’s good, even when mornings feel rushed or homework piles up. I’ve learned that when I model gratitude—thanking teachers for their hard work, appreciating my kids for their effort, even on the small stuff—it changes the tone of our home. It’s like turning up the warmth in a song. You can feel it everywhere.
Curiosity is the other piece of the puzzle. Kids who feel free to ask questions, try new things, and explore ideas tend to light up in and out of the classroom. I’ve noticed it with my own kids—when they’re curious, learning becomes an adventure, not a chore. As parents, we can feed that spark. Ask them what they learned that surprised them. Encourage them to try something unfamiliar. Remind them that “I don’t know” is just the first step to finding out.
Of course, every year brings challenges. There will be days when backpacks feel too heavy and attitudes a little too grumpy. But when we approach the year with open hearts and a sense of wonder, we teach our kids that learning is more than grades and schedules—it’s a lifelong rhythm.
I hope this school year is full of small victories and big moments of discovery for all our families. I hope our kids meet friends who lift them up and teachers who inspire them. I hope we find ways to celebrate progress as much as achievements. And I hope we all keep listening, to each other, to our kids, and to the music that plays quietly in the background when gratitude and curiosity lead the way.
Here’s to a year of learning, growing, and remembering that every day holds a little something worth noticing. Like the perfect harmony in a song, gratitude and curiosity can blend to create something beautiful, one school day at a time.
Every time I step on stage, I feel the same mix of nerves and excitement. No matter how many shows I play, there’s something magical about performing live. It’s unpredictable, raw, and full of energy you can’t get anywhere else. As a music mom, every show feels like a gift. Like a chance to share not only my songs but also the heart behind them.
Here are five things I love most about performing live and why I’m so grateful for the people who make it all possible.
1. Meeting the folks who have embraced my music
This is my favorite part by far. After shows, I get to chat with the people who’ve been listening, sharing, and connecting with my songs. Hearing how a lyric helped them through a hard time or reminded them of someone they love. It means everything. These conversations remind me why I write music in the first place. The hugs, the smiles, the stories—they’re the moments I carry with me long after the lights go down.
2. Feeling the energy of the crowd
There’s nothing like the connection that happens during a live show. The crowd sings back, claps along, and shares the moment with me. I can feel the energy rising with every song. That exchange of emotion is electric. It’s not just me performing; it’s all of us creating something together.
3. Sharing stories behind the songs
In the studio, songs live in a polished world. But on stage, I get to tell the stories behind them. I love explaining where a song came from, what inspired it, and why it matters to me. Seeing the audience react, nod, or even tear up—it makes the music feel alive in a whole new way.
4. Watching my kids see me do what I love
As a mom, my kids are my biggest audience—even if they’re just in the wings or in the crowd. They see me nervous before a show, they watch me step into my element, and they see me connect with others through music. I hope it shows them the importance of following their own passions.
5. Leaving it all on the stage
Performing live gives me the chance to pour every emotion into the moment. There’s no re-recording, no editing. It’s just me and the music. When I step off stage knowing I gave everything I had, I feel both exhausted and renewed. It really is the best kind of tired.
Live music is a conversation. It’s me offering my heart and the audience responding with theirs. Every show reminds me how lucky I am to have people who embrace not just the music, but the journey behind it.
To everyone who has come to a show, sung along, or simply listened, I have one message: thank you. You’re the reason I keep doing what I do. You make every note worth playing.
Life as a mom is noisy. Beautiful, yes, but loud. Between school happenings, sibling spats, endless snacks, and laundry mountains, it can feel like every minute is spoken for. But I’ve learned something powerful over the years: I need quiet to function well. I don’t just want it; I need it. And I bet you do too.
Quiet time has become my reset button. I used to think I had to fill every moment with activity or conversation, that silence meant I wasn’t being productive. But I’ve discovered that silence is sacred. It’s where I hear myself think. It’s where my creativity wakes up, where my heart softens, and where my peace returns.
Solitude doesn’t mean escaping from the people I love. It means coming back to them better.
Sometimes my quiet time looks like a walk alone with nothing but the sound of my footsteps and the wind. Sometimes it’s five minutes in my car before going inside. Other days, it’s a quiet morning with coffee before anyone wakes up. I used to feel guilty for taking those moments. But now I see them for what they are: essential.
When I step back and unplug, I notice things I miss in the rush. I see how the light hits the trees in the morning. I hear lyrics in a song I never caught before. I think about what I actually feel instead of what I’m supposed to feel. That’s when I remember who I am beyond the to-do list.
I also notice that when I honor my need for solitude, I have more to give. I listen more patiently. I laugh more easily. I don’t react as quickly or harshly. My family doesn’t need a perfect mom. They need a present one. And quiet helps me stay present.
If you haven’t had real silence in a while, start small. Step outside for five minutes and leave your phone inside. Sit in your favorite chair with a cup of tea. Breathe. Don’t try to figure anything out. Just be.
Give yourself permission to turn the volume down on the world so you can hear the melody of your own soul again.
I’ve learned that I don’t have to earn rest. I don’t have to justify needing quiet. It’s not selfish. It’s survival. And it’s one of the kindest things I can do for myself—and for everyone I love.
As fireworks begin to light up the sky this Fourth of July, I’ve been thinking a lot about freedom—the kind we celebrate as a country and the kind we can create within ourselves. Because let’s be honest: it’s not always easy to feel free when you’re juggling family, emotions, and the weight of the world.
But I’ve learned that independence doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. It can start small. And those small steps can lead to a deeper sense of peace, self-worth, and confidence.
Here are a few things I’ve been trying lately to grow my own inner freedom. I hope they’ll help you too.
Learn Something New
You don’t need to go back to school or master a complicated skill. But learning something—anything—builds self-trust. I sharpened my gardening skills last summer. Watching things grow under my care reminded me that I’m still capable of new beginnings.
Spend Time Alone on Purpose
For a long time, being alone felt uncomfortable. But now I treasure solo walks, coffee dates with myself, or even driving without music (yes, that one’s hard for a music mom like me!). Alone time clears the noise and helps me remember what I actually think and feel.
Create Before You Consume
It’s easy to scroll and get swept away in other people’s voices. But making something—writing a few lines, humming a melody, even doodling with your kids—lets your own voice rise up. Start your morning with creation instead of consumption. You’ll feel stronger.
Make a Decision Without Asking for Permission
Whether it’s picking the dinner spot or saying no to something you used to always say yes to—making your own calls builds trust in yourself. Independence grows when we stop outsourcing our choices.
Celebrate Your Strengths
We’re so quick to notice our flaws. But what if you made a list of things you’re good at? Kindness counts. So does listening, keeping a family running, or showing up on hard days. Don’t wait for someone else to recognize your strength—claim it.
Set One Small Boundary
Boundaries can feel scary, especially if you’re used to being a yes-person. But saying no—or “not right now”—is an act of self-respect. Even if it’s just carving out 30 minutes a day for quiet, setting a boundary gives you back some space to breathe.
Ask for Help Without Shame
Independence isn’t about doing everything alone. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to say, “I need support.” That takes courage. And community. And a whole lot of honesty. But it’s worth it.
As moms, we teach our kids a lot by how we live. This Independence Day, I want mine to see that freedom starts on the inside. That strength can be soft. That self-worth doesn’t come from doing it all; it comes from knowing we’re enough, even when we don’t.
So let’s light a spark—inside ourselves. One small step at a time.
Summer often feels like a whirlwind. Between family trips, late-night bedtimes, and the hum of everyday life, it’s easy to forget about our own mental well-being. As a mom, I tend to put everyone else’s needs first. But this summer, I’m choosing to do things a little differently.
I’m making a mental health summer bucket list—and I’m checking things off, one simple step at a time.
Take a morning walk—alone.
Not to walk the dog. Not to chase after a kid on a scooter. Just me and the sound of birds, wind, and maybe a quiet playlist in my ears. Twenty minutes of fresh air can shift my whole day.
Unplug for an entire afternoon.
No phone. No scrolling. Just me, the kids, and maybe a stack of sidewalk chalk or a picnic blanket. It’s not always easy, but I never regret the stillness.
Write it out.
I bought a simple journal and I’m giving myself permission to write whatever comes out. A list of things I’m grateful for. A vent session. A dream I had last night. No rules—just release.
Listen to music that lifts me up.
Summer is the perfect season for feel-good playlists. I’ve made one just for this purpose. It’s full of sunshine songs that make me smile, dance, cry, or breathe a little deeper.
Say “no” without guilt.
I don’t have to go to every cookout or RSVP to every event. Protecting my peace sometimes means staying home with popcorn and my favorite people. And that’s more than OK.
Schedule one solo outing.
Even if it’s just a canoe ride or a solo power hike, I want at least one outing this summer that’s just for me. No errands. No obligations. Just a small adventure.
Soak in some water.
Lake, pool, hose, or bath—I don’t care. There’s something about water that grounds me. I want to float, splash, or just sit with my feet in something cool. It’s good for the soul.
Create something.
I might write a song, paint with the kids, or start a photo book. Creativity reminds me that I’m more than a to-do list. Making something, no matter how small, helps me feel whole again.
Reconnect with a friend.
There’s someone I’ve been meaning to call. Maybe more than one. This summer, I’ll make the call, send the text, or meet for ice cream. A little connection can go a long way.
Celebrate small wins.
Whether it’s drinking more water, taking a nap, or laughing until I cry, I want to notice the good. This summer isn’t about doing it all. It’s about doing what matters—and that includes caring for me.
If you’re feeling the weight of everything, I see you. And I hope this bucket list helps you find space to breathe again. Summer’s not just for memories. It’s for healing, too.
Some days feel heavier than others. The news scrolls by, full of heartbreak. The world feels too loud, too broken, too much. And in the middle of it all, there we are—moms trying to raise kind kids, hold it all together, and still believe that better days are coming.
I’ve had moments where hope felt like a stranger. Moments when I questioned whether anything I was doing really made a difference. But I’ve learned a few things along the way—lessons that have helped me hold on when everything in me wanted to let go.
Start small.
When the world feels out of control, I turn my attention to what I can control. I water the plants. I write a note to someone I love. I press play on a song that makes me feel something good. Small things are big when they carry intention.
Look around you.
We weren’t made to do life alone. I’ve found that community—real, imperfect, present community—is one of the strongest cures for hopelessness. Whether it’s talking with another mom over coffee or hanging out in the kitchen with my kids, those moments remind me I’m not walking this path by myself.
Let the music speak.
Music has always been my bridge back to hope. A melody can lift what words alone can’t. Whether it’s gospel, classic country, or 80s pop, the right song has a way of reaching places that no pep talk ever could. Music reminds me that others have felt what I’m feeling—and made it through.
Love harder.
When I feel powerless, I remind myself that loving my people well is a form of resistance. It’s not naive to lead with love. It’s brave. Every bedtime story, every lunch packed, every hug offered—it all matters more than we know.
Let yourself rest.
Hope doesn’t grow in burned-out soil. When I’m running on fumes, I’m more likely to give in to despair. So I give myself permission to pause. To breathe. To feel whatever I’m feeling without rushing through it.
Remember the long view.
Hard seasons come, but they also pass. I look back at other hard moments and remind myself that I made it through them. That I’m stronger now. That hope doesn’t always feel like fireworks—sometimes it’s just a quiet whisper saying, “Try again tomorrow.”
Point your kids toward light.
As moms, we carry so much influence. I don’t have to have all the answers. I just have to model the values I want them to grow into—kindness, resilience, and a belief that light still wins. That’s the legacy I want to leave.
Hope doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s a hum, a heartbeat, a harmony in the background reminding us that even in the madness, beauty still exists. We just have to keep looking and listening for it.
And when we can’t hear it ourselves, we can sing it for someone else—until they find it again too.
There’s something magical about the start of summer. School’s out, days stretch longer, and the air carries that sweet scent of sunscreen, cookouts, and fresh-cut grass. For moms like us, it’s a mix of chaos and joy—a time when the house is louder, the fridge emptier, and the calendar fuller. But before the schedules take over, I like to reset my mindset with one of the best mood boosters I know: a good playlist.
Music helps me shift gears. It signals to my brain and body that it’s time to loosen up and embrace what’s coming. Whether it’s a pool day, a road trip, or just a dance party in the kitchen while I fold laundry, these songs bring sunshine into my soul—and hopefully yours too.
Here are 15 songs that get me ready for summer. Pop them on, roll down the windows, and let the season begin.
“Walking on Sunshine” – Katrina and the Waves
It’s impossible not to smile when this plays. Pure energy, pure joy.
“Suddenly I See” – KT Tunstall
This one always makes me feel like the lead in a summer movie montage. Empowering and bright.
“Soak Up the Sun” – Sheryl Crow
A chill reminder to lighten up and take in the good stuff.
“Vacation” – The Go-Go’s
Whether you’re actually traveling or just dreaming of it, this song sets the mood.
“Cruel Summer” – Bananarama
A little retro drama never hurts. It’s the soundtrack for those hot, sticky days when everything feels just a little intense.
“Here Comes the Sun” – The Beatles
A gentle classic. Feels like that first warm day after a long winter.
“American Girl” – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
For driving fast with the windows down and nowhere to be.
“Edge of Seventeen” – Stevie Nicks
A little mystical, a little wild. It’s that feeling of being on the edge of something fun.
“I’m Coming Out” – Diana Ross
A celebration of identity, freedom, and joy. What summer is all about.
“Girls Just Want to Have Fun” – Cyndi Lauper
This is the anthem. Blast it and sing at the top of your lungs with your daughters.
“Dancing in the Street” – Martha and the Vandellas
A classic that reminds us summer is for movement and music.
“Love Shack” – The B-52’s
Silly, strange, and impossible not to dance to.
“Heat Wave” – Linda Ronstadt
This Motown remake packs vocal power and sizzle—perfect for steamy summer nights.
“Under the Boardwalk” – The Drifters (covered by Bette Midler)
Romantic, breezy, and nostalgic. It feels like a walk on the sand with the tide rolling in.
“Rockin’ with the Rhythm of the Rain” – The Judds
A front-porch favorite with a beat that turns any summer storm into a celebration.
So if you’re feeling overwhelmed already by the thought of sunscreen applications and snack duty, pause for a moment. Turn up the volume. Let the music remind you of the magic this season holds—for you and your family.
Let’s make it a summer worth dancing through.
Memorial Day isn’t just the unofficial start of summer. It’s more than backyard cookouts, mattress sales, and pool openings. At its heart, it’s a day to pause. To remember the people who gave their lives in service to our country. It’s a reminder that freedom has a cost—and that gratitude should never be out of season.
As a mom, I’ve started thinking more about how we mark this day as a family. Yes, we still grill. We still gather. But I want our kids to understand why they have the freedom to play in the yard while burgers sizzle on the grill. I want them to feel something deeper.
Because Memorial Day teaches us something powerful—not just about sacrifice, but about what it means to live with purpose, compassion, and responsibility. These are lessons our kids need more than ever.
1. Service matters.
Whether it’s military service or showing up for your community, Memorial Day reminds us that real strength comes from helping others. I want my kids to grow up knowing that being a good citizen isn’t just about voting—it’s about pitching in, lending a hand, and putting others before yourself when it counts.
2. Gratitude shouldn’t be quiet.
It’s easy to say “thank you” and move on. But I want my kids to stop and really think about who they’re thanking. To understand that the rights they have weren’t handed to them—they were earned by others who gave everything. I want them to honor that, not just once a year, but in how they live.
3. Respect is powerful.
On Memorial Day, we lower flags and speak in hushed tones at ceremonies. We honor lives with silence. That kind of respect—humble, deep, and quiet—is something I want my children to learn. Not just for veterans, but for all people. For teachers, for workers, for neighbors. Everyone deserves dignity.
4. Remembering matters.
In a fast-moving world, it’s easy to forget the past. But Memorial Day pulls us back. It asks us to remember people we never met. It asks us to care anyway. That’s the kind of heart I want to raise in my home. A heart that remembers and honors, even when it’s inconvenient.
5. Freedom comes with responsibility.
Our kids have so much. So many choices. So much opportunity. And while I want them to enjoy that, I also want them to feel responsible for it. To protect it, to use it well, and to make space for others to have it too.
So this Memorial Day, we’ll take time to remember. We’ll talk about sacrifice. We’ll thank those who gave everything. And we’ll talk about how to live in a way that honors them—not just with flags and flowers, but with actions.
Because raising good citizens starts at home. It starts with little conversations and everyday choices. And it grows when we connect the dots between the freedoms we have and the people who made them possible.
Graduation season is here. For those of us with kids crossing the stage—whether it’s high school, college, or something else entirely—it’s a season of big feelings. We’re proud, sentimental, a little weepy, and wondering how time moved so fast. Seriously, how did it go so fast?
As music moms, we often turn to songs when we can’t find the right words. And this time of year calls for a playlist that captures it all: the pride, the nostalgia, the hope, and the ache of letting go. These songs aren’t just for the graduates. They’re also for the parents.
Here are 10 songs that hit all the right notes as we watch our kids step into the next stage of life.
1. “Landslide” – Fleetwood Mac
This one gets me every time. It’s a song about change, growth, and time slipping through our fingers. It’s soft, reflective, and perfect for the moment you realize they’re not little anymore.
2. “My Wish” – Rascal Flatts
This is every parent’s love letter to their child. The lyrics speak to all our hopes and dreams for them. It’s a song I can’t hear without tearing up.
3. “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” – Green Day
Simple, timeless, and honest. This one has been a graduation favorite for decades for a reason. It reminds us that life moves fast, and every chapter matters.
4. “The Climb” – Miley Cyrus
The journey matters more than the destination. This song is full of heart and captures the message we all want to pass on: keep going, even when it’s hard.
5. “Forever Young” – Rod Stewart
A blessing in song form. It’s hopeful, proud, and full of love. A great reminder that while they’ll grow older, they’ll always be our babies.
6. “I Hope You Dance” – Lee Ann Womack
A wish and a reminder rolled into one. This one encourages courage, kindness, and wonder—everything we want our kids to carry with them.
7. “You’re Gonna Miss This” – Trace Adkins
Sometimes, it’s not just about them moving forward—it’s about us learning to let go. This song speaks to the beauty of each phase, even when it’s hard to say goodbye.
8. “Unwritten” – Natasha Bedingfield
The future is wide open. This one feels like a fresh start, full of possibilities. It’s a great song to play when you’re ready to celebrate what comes next.
9. “Vienna” – Billy Joel
One of my personal favorites. It’s a quiet reminder to slow down and savor life. A beautiful message for any young adult feeling pressure to figure it all out too fast.
10. “Learning to Fly” – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
A beautiful, reflective rock anthem about taking off into the unknown. It’s a metaphor for growing up, stepping out, and finding your wings.
So cue up this playlist, grab a tissue (or five), and let the music help you say what your heart’s been holding. Graduation is a milestone—for them, yes—but also for us. Let’s celebrate it with a soundtrack worthy of the moment.
Motherhood is the most unforgettable song I’ve ever known. It’s not always polished. Sometimes it’s off-key, a little messy, and full of surprises. But it’s also beautiful, raw, and full of soul. As a music mom, I can’t help but see how being a mother is a lot like writing—and living—a great song.
Mother’s Day gives me space to sit with that thought. To reflect on how every day with my kids feels like a melody unfolding in real time. No two verses are the same. Some are sweet and soft, others loud and wild. But together, they tell a story I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Like a memorable song, motherhood has rhythm. Some days flow easily. Others trip over themselves. There are moments when everything clicks—when the harmonies are just right, the timing perfect. And then there are days when I feel completely out of sync, like I’m playing an instrument I’ve never held before. But the rhythm keeps going. And I keep showing up.
Motherhood also has its quiet rests. The pauses. The breaths between the big notes. Those slow, still moments when I watch my child sleep, or sit with them after a long day. They’re not flashy. But they hold so much weight. Just like in a song, the quiet parts matter just as much as the loud ones.
Every child brings their own melody to the mix. I hear it in their laughter, their questions, their made-up songs in the back seat. As a mom, I get to be their harmony for a while. Supporting their sound. Shaping it. Letting it grow louder with time.
There’s also improvisation. Lots of it. No one hands you a perfect chart for raising kids. You make it up as you go. You trust your instincts. You listen more than you speak. And when you hit the wrong note, you try again. That’s what makes it honest. That’s what gives it heart.
And let’s not forget the bridge. The tough spots. The changing keys. The parts of motherhood that stretch you—late nights, hard conversations, growing pains. They may feel dissonant in the moment. But later, you realize how they brought the whole song together.
Now that it’s Mother’s Day, I think about the legacy of this song. Not the career. Not the playlists. But the quiet, steady music of showing up. Of loving hard. Of making something lasting.
Motherhood isn’t always pretty. But it’s powerful. And like all the best songs, it stays with you long after it ends.
So to every music mom out there—whether your house is full of lullabies, guitar chords, or just the beat of little (or big) feet on hardwood floors—know this: you’re writing something beautiful. One note at a time.
And this Mother’s Day, I hope you hear your own melody. And I hope you know just how magical it really is.
The Music Mom: Eileen Carey 