When I became a mom, I didn’t suddenly turn into a new person. I was still me, just with a baby on my hip and a stroller to push through the streets of Itaim Bibi.
The challenge was learning how to care for Emilia without handing over my identity. Some days I do it beautifully.
Other days I drink cold coffee at 4 p.m. and wonder where my brain went.
What helps me stay grounded is not one big secret. It’s a set of small things I do every single day. These habits fit inside real life, which for us looks like a 7 a.m. family breakfast at the kitchen island, a stroller walk to drop Matias at work, a quick supermarket stop for dinner ingredients, and then work, play, naps, bath time, stories, and a tidy house by lights-out.
We live at full speed for now, and I’m ok with it. The season is temporary, the habits are portable.
Below are seven daily practices that keep me from losing myself, even when I’m juggling deadlines and diapers.
1. I anchor the day with two non-negotiables
Every morning I choose two things that must happen for me to feel like me. One is for my body, one is for my mind.
Most days that looks like a 15-minute movement session at home and a 20-minute writing block. On rough mornings, I shorten both to five minutes. The point is to keep the promise.
This creates a quiet confidence that spreads into everything else. I’m less reactive with Emilia, more focused at work, and more present with Matias in the evening.
As James Clear says, “Habits are the compound interest of self-improvement.” Small deposits, daily, change the account. I see it in my mood, my posture, and my patience.
If you’re overwhelmed, start tiny. Two minutes of stretching, two sentences in a journal. You can add more later. The win is in showing up.
2. I calendar my priorities before the world gets loud
By 7:30 a.m. our home is fully awake, so I take five minutes before that to sketch my day.
I write three priorities on a sticky note, then I block them on my calendar. The rest of the to-do list gets parked on a separate page.
I’ve learned that if it isn’t scheduled, it competes with everything else and loses.
This simple move protects my energy. It also makes decisions easier when surprises pop up, which happens a lot with a one-year-old. I can quickly see what can slide and what must stay. “What gets scheduled gets done,” as Michael Hyatt puts it.
I repeat that line when I’m tempted to wing it.
On especially packed days, I timebox chores too. Ten minutes to reset the kitchen, five to start laundry, twenty to batch-cook veggies. It sounds rigid, but it feels freeing because I’m not thinking about those tasks all day.
3. I curate my inputs so my mind stays clear
If I let my phone run my attention, I end the day feeling scattered. So I keep my inputs light and intentional.
No news before noon. No scrolling while I feed Emilia. I save long reads for her nap and open Instagram only after I’ve done something for my own brain.
This is not about pretending the world is quiet. It’s about choosing a signal over noise. I’d rather listen to one podcast that makes me think than swim through ten hot takes.
I’d rather read a few pages of a book than skim a hundred headlines. The result is more clarity and less anxiety, which means I’m kinder, more productive, and more fun to be around.
A small hack helps: I clean up my follows every month. Accounts that drain me go. Accounts that teach, delight, or ground me stay.
My attention is my responsibility, so I guard it.
4. I treat the home like a teammate, not a tyrant
A tidy space calms my nervous system. A perfectionistic home turns me into a cranky drill sergeant. I aim for the sweet spot. We do quick resets, not museum-level organizing.
While one of us handles bath and story, the other wipes surfaces, loads the dishwasher, and lays out clothes for tomorrow. It takes fifteen minutes and changes the whole evening.
This is where our capsule approach helps. I keep a tight wardrobe and a simple routine. Shoulder-length hair I can style fast, lash extensions so my face looks awake, a four-step skincare, short red nails.
I wear elegant flats instead of heels. It all saves time and mental load, which I reinvest in people and work.
I grew up with less, and I’ve spent time around people with more. The common thread I respect is discipline about the basics. Laundry done. Meals planned. Keys in one place. When the home supports you, you have more to give elsewhere.
5. I protect small pockets of presence with my family
We work hard. Help in São Paulo is just our nanny during business hours, which we’re very grateful for, and the deeper help comes when we’re in Santiago with grandparents.
Because our weekday hours are full, I refuse to let our together time get swallowed by multitasking.
Breakfast is phones-down. Our walk to Matias’s office is a check-in, not a rush. Evenings are for dinner, bath, story, bottle, sleep, then a quick cleanup so we can actually sit together.
These pockets are small but they compound. They make the house feel warm. They remind me that the point of productivity is presence.
I want Emilia to remember our rituals, not me constantly hustling past her. When we’re with family in Chile, we stretch those pockets into long, lazy afternoons and late conversations. It’s a luxury we treat with respect.
Quality attention is a daily habit, not a vacation setting. You can choose it in ten-minute slices.
6. I keep a personal identity list and do one thing from it
Motherhood stretches you, but it should not erase you. I keep a list on my phone titled “Ways I am me.”
It has items like write a paragraph, text a friend from Central Asia, test a new recipe, pick the week’s flowers, sew something by hand, learn a Portuguese phrase, research a craft idea, plan a date with Matias. Every day I tick one off.
This list is my anchor when life feels like rinse and repeat. It reminds me of the parts of me that existed before baby and will exist after the toddler years.
It also gives me quick options when time is tight. Five minutes to message a friend. Ten to plan a dinner spot for our weekly date. Fifteen to learn a tiny skill.
Identity doesn’t survive by accident, it survives by attention. One small act daily is enough to keep the thread.
7. I set clear boundaries and I honor them kindly
People ask for more than you can give. Kids test limits, friends plan last-minute gatherings, work expands to fill your nights if you let it.
I’ve learned to say a clear yes or a clear no, and to trust that the people who matter will respect it. “Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously,” writes Prentis Hemphill. That line lives in my Notes app.
Here’s what this looks like on an average Tuesday. I stop work at six unless there is a true emergency.
I won’t skip dinner with my family for a meeting. I protect bedtime with Emilia, and I protect an hour with Matias after she’s asleep.
If someone needs a reply, they’ll get it tomorrow morning. If I need help, I ask without apologizing. Boundaries are not walls, they’re pathways for respect.
When you honor your own limits, you model self-respect for your child. You also give others a clear way to love you well.
How these habits fit inside a real day
On weekdays we wake at 7, and I do my two non-negotiables before Emilia fully revs up. We eat together at the island, then the three of us walk to Matias’s office and trade plans for the day.
On the way back, I pick up ingredients for dinner. Lara arrives, I work from home while Emilia toddles around with the neighbor kids, and I keep my inputs calm so I can focus. At lunch I check my identity list and pick one small thing.
When Lara leaves around 7, we switch to family time. Dinner, bath, story, bottle, sleep. One of us resets the house while the other puts Emilia down, then we meet on the couch with tea or a glass of wine.
If it’s a date night, we head out and trust Lara, who knows the routine. On those nights, we talk about life, goals, and a second baby. We’re tired, but in the best way.
Weekends look looser, especially when we fly to Santiago. Grandparents create space for longer workouts, slow cooking, and grown-up conversations.
We treat that help like rain in a dry season. It feeds everything.
A few practical tips that make these habits stick
Keep tools visible. My mat lives next to the crib, and my journal stays on the kitchen counter.
Friction low, follow-through high.
Stack habits. I calendar priorities right after brushing my teeth, because the cue is already baked in. I pick my identity-list item while the coffee brews.
Use tiny rules. No phone before breakfast, no laptop after 9 p.m., shoes by the door. When a rule is clear, decisions are easy.
Speak your boundaries out loud. “I’d love to see you on Saturday afternoon.” “I can’t make tonight work.” “Let’s reschedule for next week.” Kind, direct, done.
Ask for help early. I used to wait until I was drowning. Now I ask when the water hits my ankles. It keeps the day humane.
Final thoughts
I don’t chase balance like it’s a static target. I build it in small, daily ways. Some days tilt toward work, some toward family, some toward me.
What matters is that the habits keep me connected to who I am while I care for the people I love.
You don’t need to overhaul your life to feel like yourself again. Pick two non-negotiables, schedule what matters, curate your inputs, keep the home simple, protect pockets of presence, choose one identity act, and hold your boundaries with kindness. Do that for a week and notice the difference in your energy.
Do it for a month and you’ll feel like the upgraded version of yourself, not the lost one.
I remind myself often: growth comes from honesty and small, consistent choices. How you do anything is how you do everything.
And that includes the way you treat yourself on an ordinary Tuesday.
