The Beauty of Slow Days: Why I'm Letting Go Of Perfection.

As I sip a cup of herbal tea while my son naps in the other room, I find that these quiet moments are when I’m able to truly sit and reflect. Time moves slowly in the moment, yet when you look back at a week, a month, a year, it can feel like a flash.
How is he two next month?

These daily reflections have helped me slow down and take everything in, whenever I can. I remember feeling like I had to make sure our days were always filled with activities and plans. I still fall into that sometimes (my son is a Gemini, after all, he needs plenty of stimulation!), but I now make a point of embracing the slow moments too.

A chilled morning, letting my son decide how he wants to move through the day.
A relaxed afternoon, cuddled on the sofa or playing in the garden.

There was a time, from around six months onwards, when I was afraid to be without a plan. I felt like if I didn’t have everything perfectly in place, I wasn’t showing up properly. I wanted to be the mum who had her shit together: hair washed, house clean, doing all the baby groups, nailing baby-led weaning and everything in between.

But eventually, something had to give.

That unnecessary pressure I’d placed on myself? It was part of what broke me. Social media didn’t help. And being a Virgo, I’ve always had a weird obsession with perfectionism.
You can tell me it doesn’t exist until you’re blue in the face, and I’ll still try to aim for it.

But in motherhood?
There is no perfect way to be a mummy.

Once I started letting go of the idea that every day had to be perfectly planned, something wonderful happened. I became far more present with my son. I watched as he started using his imagination more, creating random games with pillows or boxes, beaming with joy when I joined in. We didn’t need to be at a structured toddler class. We could just be in the bedroom, playing on the floor, being our wholesome selves.

We could just be.

Over time, I began to loosen up even more. I noticed myself becoming more playful, more childlike, and it felt wonderful. I started thinking outside the box and inventing new games. The imaginative play wasn’t just helping my son’s development; it was inspiring me.

Our bond has only grown deeper through slowing down.
There’s no rush. No urgency.
Only love and fun.