I stopped trying to optimize my mornings. Here's what they actually look like now.
A realistic look at what mornings look like when you stop over-planning them.
For the past few years, my youngest (who’d always been my best sleeper) was waking up four or five times a night. 🥵 I was probably more exhausted during that stretch than when my kids were newborns, because at least then I was getting a few hours at a time. During the regression, she was getting me up roughly every hour.
So mornings stopped being something I optimized for productivity. They became something I optimized for sleep. Any last bit of rest I could get so that I was able to function through our minimum viable morning routine became what mattered most.
That’s not what the internet tells you to do with your mornings. The internet tells you to protect them. Prioritize the quiet. Get up before your family. Make it non-negotiable.
And I used to do that. When I was teaching full-time and coming home to be the primary caregiver, finding time for myself was virtually impossible. So I started setting my alarm for 5, sometimes 5:30, and using that window before the house woke up to do whatever felt meaningful that day. Sometimes it was a workout. Sometimes it was just sitting in the dark with a cup of tea and my own thoughts. I didn’t structure it. But it was mine & that really mattered during that season of life.
And at the time, it really worked for me—because it had a purpose. I needed that time in order to get lunches packed, breakfast made, kids clothed, and everyone out the door by 6:45. The early wake-up wasn’t aspirational—it was functional. And because it was driven by something real, it actually felt good. Even motivating.
But when I stopped teaching five years ago, I kept doing it—not because I needed to, but because it was what I had always done. And what I found was that I started dreading it. I kept putting it off, and then I felt guilty—or something closer to shame — because I wasn’t making it happen. The thing that used to feel like freedom had become another obligation.
What finally broke the cycle was a simple recognition: just because I’ve always done something one way doesn’t mean I have to keep doing it that way.
What made getting up early work for me was never the hour on the clock. It was that it was on my terms and it had purpose. Now my kids are at school every day and I’m at home. I can meditate when I want, fit in a workout, sit in silence. The things that matter to me naturally fit into other parts of my day. So forcing them into 5 AM stopped making sense.
I think that’s actually been the through line all along. I’ve always optimized my mornings for what I need. Not for a bunch of shoulds. I don’t drink the lemon water. I don’t always get outside just to get sunlight on my eyes. I don’t skip meditation and I don’t skip movement—but I find places to fit them into my day where they actually feel supportive rather than obligatory.
Now that my youngest is sleeping better, I’m coming back to a season where bringing a little more attention to my mornings feels important. But only because I’m working on making my nervous system more resilient—and one of the things I’m learning is how much it matters to get natural light for ten minutes when I first wake up.
I’m not going to sit here and say I make it happen every morning. I’m not going to say I always enjoy it. But because it’s driven by something that actually matters to me right now—wanting to be less reactive, wanting to not snap at my kids when they’re being loud and having fun playing together just because my body can’t tolerate it—I find myself doing it anyway.
Regardless of what season I’ve been in, I really believe in choosing a way of moving through your morning that is truly minimum viable. For me, that means identifying the absolute non-negotiables—the things that have to happen in order for my family to be set up for the day. And that list is honestly very short.
Part of that is because my kids are more independent now. They are responsible for their own minimum viable: getting up on time, getting dressed, brushing their teeth, brushing their hair, making sure their bags are packed. That’s it.
I’ve found that the more I expect of them, the more I have to manage. My 11-year-old has finally internalized the routine—get up, get dressed, brush teeth, do hair. I don’t have to prompt them anymore. But it took us almost 12 years to get here. My 9-year-old still needs prompting for most of it. Brushing hair, wiping their face after breakfast, brushing teeth, taking medicine. And the more I expect of them at this stage, the more I’m standing right next to them directing traffic. Which turns into frustration when they’re inevitably distracted. Which turns into this cycle of me repeating myself and losing patience that I don’t have time for and can’t afford—because there are other things I’m responsible for in that same window of time.
So by letting go of the ideal version of what my kids should be doing independently by this age, I’ve freed up so much of my own capacity. And it helps them feel more successful too, because they don’t have a mom who’s constantly pointing out what they’re doing wrong.
For my own minimum viable, it comes down to giving myself enough time to actually take care of myself. I’ve been through seasons where that looked like throwing on a fresh pair of sweatpants and walking out the door after brushing my teeth. That has genuinely been my absolute bare minimum.
Right now, I’m in a place where it feels really good to put on an outfit I feel good in. Not fancy. Not super styled. But I’ve been figuring out what kinds of outfit formulas are my go-tos, so I can lean into them without thinking much and still feel like myself at school drop-off. I make time to get dressed. I do a little bit of makeup after skincare, but we’re talking fast—five minutes. I shower at night so I don’t have to deal with it in the morning. I do a thorough skincare routine at night, so in the morning I’m just rinsing my face and putting on products.
If anyone wants to hear more about what that five-minute makeup routine actually looks like, or what my go-to outfits are—the ones that keep it to the bare minimum while still letting me pour a little back into myself—let me know in the comments. I’d be happy to share.
I also don’t take sole responsibility for the small stuff. If the kids are up and they’re free, I ask them to feed the dog or let him out. That’s a shared job in our house. I know some families work better with everyone having assigned roles. But in my family, keeping it loose is what works.
And I’ve gotten better at asking my husband for help. He’s had a career change and is home in the mornings now, which I’m really lucky to have. He is not one to necessarily take initiative when it comes to running the family. But I have no problems asking. And he is genuinely good at noticing when the dishes need doing and just doing it without me asking.
That’s not anything we formally agreed to. It’s about recognizing where help is needed and being comfortable asking for it. Not demanding it. Not expecting it. Not feeling resentful if it doesn’t get done. It’s more of a natural give and take. Where’s your capacity today? Is he in the middle of something? Is he free? How much do each of us have to give right now?
I’ve found that by not having a really structured morning routine—no long checklist of things that must get done—it’s allowed for a sense of ease. And I’m not going to say it’s perfect. But I am less stressed. The kids have a lot less back and forth with me. There’s a lot less time pressure. And time pressure is one of those things that really agitates me. So by lowering the expectations, I’ve naturally lowered the pressure, because there’s less we’re trying to cram into the same window.
My minimum viable for the kids in terms of food: make sure they have breakfast, pack a lunch and a snack, fill a water bottle. That’s it.
I don’t worry about the state of my kitchen. I put food away so it doesn’t go bad. But otherwise, the kitchen waits.
I don’t have a multi-step routine because it doesn’t work for my family. If there’s a day where I need more sleep and I sleep in, I need to know that everything can be done in 30 minutes or less—from the time I get out of bed to the time I’m in the car. Sometimes even faster.
And I’ve gotten so comfortable with this that if I’m pressed for time, my kids are not getting a gourmet lunch. Most days, yes—they get something fresh, whole foods, a variety. But if I’m pressed for time, I am not above grabbing a peanut butter and jelly from the freezer and tossing it in a lunchbox. My kids are fed. They won’t go hungry. That is fine with me. I have no guilt in that.
Same with breakfast. I try to give them something well-rounded, but if we all needed to prioritize sleep, a bowl of cereal fills the hole. It gives them some nutrition. It gets them out the door. And in Colorado, the kids can grab breakfast at school through the subsidized program—a piece of fruit, some juice, whatever’s available. So I try to really relieve myself of that pressure to make everything a 10 out of 10 every single morning. And be practical on the mornings where I have to be practical.
One last thing. I highly recommend a calm morning playlist on the kitchen speaker. I’ve been doing this for the past few months. As much as I love peace and quiet, I notice it keeps everyone moving. It keeps me feeling calm. It gives me something to focus on so I’m not reaching for my phone—which used to slow me down a lot. I set my phone to the side, don’t look at it, and the music kind of satisfies that part of my brain that’s looking for input.
The mornings that work best in my house are the ones where I’ve stopped trying to make them impressive.
They’re not optimized. They’re not aesthetic. They’re just honest about what we actually need to get through the door—and loose enough that when something goes sideways, we absorb it instead of falling apart.
Talk soon,
Erin
PS—If the idea of leaning into approaches that may not be what ‘everyone else does’ but are what are feeling right for you then you might enjoy these two posts from the archives…
