IsaiahDonovan

Raising Two Little Souls: My Honest Motherhood Journey​

Before I had children, I thought I understood what patience meant. I thought I knew what love was. But nothing prepares you for the reality of raising two little ones, each with their own bright spirit, wild energy, and tender heart. Being a mother of two has been the most humbling, heart-expanding journey I’ve ever walked.


My days often begin before the sun rises, with one child asking for breakfast and the other still clinging to sleep. From there, it’s a whirlwind—of snacks and spills, books and boo-boos, giggles and tears. It’s a balancing act between giving each child the attention they need, while also not losing myself completely in the process.


One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned while raising two children is that no two children are alike—not even siblings raised under the same roof. My firstborn is observant and methodical, the kind of child who loves building block towers and organizing crayons by color. My younger one is a whirlwind of emotion and motion, full of curiosity and stubbornness. Parenting them requires flexibility, not formulas. What worked with one rarely works with the other. And so, every day, I learn to adapt, to listen more than I speak, and to meet them where they are.


In trying to create a home that nurtures both of them, I began to care deeply about the kind of environment we live in. I wanted spaces that invite creativity, calm, and connection—not clutter or noise. I slowly replaced battery-operated toys with open-ended materials that allow for imaginative play. And I looked for images, inspiration, and educational resources that reflect the kind of childhood I hope to create.


That’s how I found myself spending a lot of time browsing platforms like Pixabay, where I discovered an incredible library of free, beautiful visuals that helped me plan activities, design calming learning corners, and even create homemade flashcards. I’ve found illustrations for storytelling, photos that help explain nature to my kids, and peaceful images that inspire our art time. It might seem like a small thing, but having visual tools has made a big difference in how I connect with my children—especially when words fail or big emotions take over.


Motherhood has also taught me to slow down. I used to think every moment had to be productive—structured play, educational tasks, sensory bins every day. But now, I cherish the slow afternoons when we lie on the rug and watch the light change through the curtains. I’ve learned that a walk around the block can be just as rich as a trip to the museum. That presence matters more than plans.


Of course, it’s not always peaceful. Some days I raise my voice more than I’d like. Some nights I collapse into bed wondering if I was too distracted, too impatient, too tired. But I’ve learned that part of being a good mother is owning my imperfections. Saying sorry. Trying again tomorrow. My children don’t need me to be flawless—they need me to be honest and loving and human.


And in the midst of it all, they teach me. Every day. They teach me how to find wonder in the ordinary. How to forgive quickly. How to live fully in the moment. Watching them grow is like watching a mirror slowly fill with color—I see reflections of myself, both the tender parts and the ones still learning.


I don’t have all the answers, and I’ve stopped searching for a perfect method. But I do know this: motherhood is not about mastering a routine. It’s about building a relationship. And in raising two children, I’ve found a deeper version of myself—one who is softer, braver, and more present than I ever thought I could be.