5. When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shines

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When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shineshttps://mysticalmomworld.com/i-will-find-time-for-self-care/

Sunday usually carry a certain charm – a mix of freedom and unfinished tasks waiting to be done. Last Sunday, I had everything planned in my head. I had a list, an idea, a mood – but life, as always, had a different plan.

I woke up thinking about how the day would go, but the universe had already decided something else for us. And in the end, I realized that even when things don’t go exactly as planned, they can still turn out beautifully – simple yet memorable.

When Plans Change, But the Day Still Shines

A Happy Start

The morning began on a cheerful note. We got up happily, with that Sunday calm in the air – no rush, no school, no deadlines. My kids were unusually cheerful, and the house felt light-hearted and peaceful.

Instead of our usual breakfast confusion, we decided to keep it simple and homely – dal chawal. Who would’ve thought dal chawal could make a perfect breakfast? But it did. It brought comfort, warmth, and a smile. There was something so soothing about that combination – a meal that felt like home in every bite.

As we sat together, talking and laughing, it felt like a slow-motion scene from an old family movie. Nothing grand, yet everything felt right.

Classes, Holidays, and Little Wins

Usually, our Sundays are jam-packed with dance class runs and errands. But since it was Dasara, there was a holiday for dance class. That tiny break gave us an unexpected pocket of free time – something rare these days.

My kids finished their online classes first thing in the morning. Watching them sit attentively in front of the laptop, balancing between curiosity and distraction, made me smile.

After class, I introduced them to something new – Canva. I wanted them to explore creativity in a different form, beyond notebooks and crayons. And to my surprise, they loved it!

They learned to design – small posters, colorful layouts, and even tried typing their names in stylish fonts.

For a moment, I saw that spark – the same one I felt the first time I learned something new. That curiosity, that sense of “Wow! I made this!” filled the room. I felt proud and peaceful, realizing that maybe these tiny learnings will someday shape their bigger dreams.

Groceries, Giggles, and Burgers

By late morning, we decided to step out for a while. The grocery list had been lying untouched for days, and this seemed like the right time.

The supermarket trip turned into an adventure – as it always does when kids are involved. From choosing chocolates ” just in case guests come” to arguing over which cereal box looked better, it was chaos blended with laughter.

And then, the hunger hit. Instead of our usual home lunch, we decided to indulge a bit – burgers! Sitting at a small corner table, munching on fries and laughing over ketchup spills, I realized how even a small meal can turn into a family memory.

It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t planned – but it was perfect. Sometimes, happiness really does taste like a bite of a warm burger shared with the people you love.

Back to the Comfort Zone

After getting back home, the lazy past afternoon began to set in. The kids sat down for homework, and surprisingly, there were no complaints or signs this time. Maybe the burgers did some magic!

While they worked, I began sorting out the groceries, folding clothes which is strangely therapeutic. The soft sound of stream and the sight of wrinkles disappearing gives a strange sense of order – like slowly ironing out the chaos of life itself.

Soon, homework was done, and the kids wanted to play. They laughed, ran around, and filled the house with their silly jokes. I sat for a while, just watching them – no phone, no rush, just being present. That simple act felt like a luxury.

Movie Time: Sky Force

Evening brought its own rhythm. The sun was setting, the lights were dim, and we decided to watch a movie – Shy Force.

There’s something magical about family movie nights – everyone curled up together, snacks in hand, eyes glued to the screen. The story of courage and passion caught our attention, and for those two hours, we were in another world.

The kids clapped at scenes that thrilled them, asked endless questions about the plot, and I couldn’t help but smile their innocent excitement reminded me that sometimes, joy really hides in the simplest moments – like watching a film together on a calm Sunday right.

Dinner, DIY, and Watching Down

After the movie, we had a quick dinner – simple, light, and comforting. By then, the  day had slowed down.

But before heading to bed, we decided to do something creative – a DIY activity. My kids had seen some ideas online, and they were eager to try. We gathered paper, glue, colors, and a bit of imagination. Within minutes, our table turned into a tiny art studio!

There was paint on hands, glitter on the floor, and laughter echoing all around. It was messy – but it was the kind of mess I didn’t mind. The kind that holds happiness.

Once done, we admired our small creation – imperfect but made with love. It was the perfect way to end the day.

A Simple Day, A Quite Lesson

As we finally went to bed, the day replayed in my mind. It hadn’t gone as planned – I didn’t do what I thought I would. But maybe that’s what made it beautiful.

Life often surprises us when we let go of our plans. What mattered wasn’t ticking off a to-do list – it was the laughter, the small learnings, the unplanned joy, and the calm at the end of the day.

This Sunday reminded me the peace isn’t found in perfection – it’s found in presence. When we live each moment as it comes, even the simplest day becomes special.

Takeaway:

Sometimes, when plans change, they don’t necessarily fail – they evolve. They teach us to slow down, to notice the small things, to laugh more, and to live with a lighter heart.

Because at the end of the day, what truly matters is not how “perfect” our Sunday looked  – but how “peaceful” it felt.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/finding-purpose

4. When Sweetness Turns Sinister: A Mother’s Battle With Betrayal and Survival

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When Sweetness Turns Sinister: A Mother’s Battle With Betrayal and Survivalhttps://mysticalmomworld.com/the-power-of-saying-sorry/

When Sweetness Turns Sinister

 

When Sweetness Turns Sinister: A Mother’s Battle With Betrayal and Survival…From the outside, my life looked like the busy, slightly chaotic, but fulfilling life of a small business owner and mother. I ran my own service shop-a place that was supposed to be filled with smiles, satisfied clients, and the hum of everyday work. Inside, I juggled motherhood, business, and personal challenges with the determination only a mother can know. But what unfolded in less than a year shook me to the core and left me alone in my workplace – working, cleaning, and mothering under the same roof.

The Helper Who Seemed Too Good to Be True

It began with a woman who entered my life at a time when I desperately needed an extra pair of hands. She was over caring, advising good things, over sweet, and used to offer favors without asking. In a life where every minute counts, a helper like her felt like a blessing. She was giving a vibe of elder family member. She smiled easily, spoke only those words which used to be in our favor only let it be any matter. Seemed genuinely interested in making my life easier. What else anybody wants from a helper.

Yet, beneath that kindness were little things that felt “off”. She asked for my home address repeatedly, each time with a different excuse: “I’ll drop something for the kids,” “I want to visit for a festival,” “I’ll bring you home-cooked food.” The first time, it sounded thoughtful. The second time, it was odd. By the fourth or fifth time, it became unsettling.

Mothers often sense danger before it shows itself. But, here my husband had a really bad intuitions when the topic of her raised every time. He kept saying, don’t let that lady come home, “I don’t get good vibes from her.” Deep inside me, a voice whispered: Something isn’t right.

The helper lady used to speak like “I saw something at the entrance of the shop today, that people use in black magic. I feel somebody has done something.” One day she rang me almost 17 times while I was on my way to the shop. She was waiting outside, once I got down from my vehicle, she pulled me with her hands, took me to my shop entrance, I saw a featherless bird just at my shop entrance, the bird was dead. I told her to remove that and clean, but before I could finish my sentence she said “somebody has done some black magic to harm your business and kill you and your family”. I got bit worried and continued with my work. Since then, I noticed that lady every now and then used to ask for my sarees or other clothes. She became irregular towards coming to work, used take everything for granted.

The Day I Had To Say Goodbye

The situation reached a point where I could no longer ignore my gut feeling. One day, after noticing behaviour I can only describe as “really unusual” – actions that didn’t fit the role of a helper at all – I gathered my courage and told her not to come back. I was polite but firm.

Her expression changed. The sweetness vanished in a fraction of second, she told me to pay her 6 months amount. I told her that’s not possible, she then showed me her real face. She went out of the shop, stood there, started shouting, using vulgar and really bad terms. There is mentioned, “I will make sure you don’t survive here, I will make sure you are ruined”. For that moment, I felt really embarrassed, but I felt relieved, thinking I had protected my home and business. Little did I know, my trials were only beginning.

 

The Slow Unravelling

The next day early morning itself my elder daughter had fell off her school private van, fractured nasal septum, broken anterior, lacerated cheek and lips. Within days of her departure, small cracks started to appear in my business. Clients who had been regular for years suddenly stopped showing up. Walk-ins, which had been my bread and butter, dried up. The shop, once buzzing with activity, became eerily quite.

On the rare days someone did enter, they would request heavy, expensive services and then leave without paying – something that had never happened before. Each incident felt like a punch to the gut, not just financially but emotionally. I started questioning myself: Was I doing something wrong? Was my quality slipping?

But my work hadn’t changed. My dedication hadn’t changed. Only my reality had.

Alone in the Shop

Day by day my staff started leaving too. First one, then another, until finally, it was only me left in the shop. I was the one cleaning the floors, wiping counters, handling appointments, and offering services. At the same time, I was managing my kids right there in the workplace-because I had no one at home to care for them

The weight was crushing. Some days, after closing the shop, I would sit on the floor in silence, my children playing beside me, and wonder how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.

It was more than just business loss; it felt like someone had cast a shadow over my life. The helper’s face would come to mind – her sweet smile, her repeated requests for my home address, the unusual things she had done. A chilling thought arose: Was this intentional? Was this….something beyond my imagination.

However, I kept giving my best all the time. There came a day when every thing changed – my patience had finally run out. I wanted to give up. I was terribly broken. Then, I called one of my clients who works for a Ganesha temple, asked her if she knew anyone who could find out what exactly was happening with me and my shop. She shared a persons contact number and said he  could tell if there were any issues with me.

I called him immediately. He asked for my birth details and hung up, saying he would call back after sometime. . About three hours later, he called back saying everything was fine with my horoscope  but asked me to answer a few questions before he concluded anything. Finally, he said, “it’s VAMACHARA. Some lady has done this to destroy you.”

I had always brushed off such ideas as superstition. But when your entire livelihood crumbles without explanation, you start searching for answers anywhere you can. And I must say, the man explained everything in simple language – and somehow, it actually made sense.

Motherhood in the Midst of Crisis

Running a business as a mother is already a balancing act, but when betrayal and financial loss are added to the equation, it becomes a tightrope walk without a safety net. I found myself wearing every hat – cleaner, receptionist, service provider, caretaker, teacher, cook, and mother.

My children, too young to understand, would watch me rush from one task to another. Sometimes they would ask why the shop was empty, or why I seemed so tired. I’d smile and say, “It’s just a slow day,” even when my heart was breaking.

Lessons From the Darkness

It’s easy to tell someone, “Be careful who you trust,” but living through betrayal is another story. I’ve learned that boundaries are not rude – they’re essential. I’ve learned that sometimes, the cost of keeping someone in your life is far greater than the benefit they seem to bring.

Most importantly, I’ve learned about my own strength. Even when the walls closed in, I didn’t shut down the shop. I kept going, for my children, for my livelihood, and for my self-respect. Each day I unlock that door, clean that floor, light that lamp, and greet whoever walks in with a genuine smile, I am reclaiming a little bit of my power.

Moving Forward

I don’t know if what happened to me was simply bad luck, manipulation, or something more sinister. What I do know is that I am rebuilding. I’m learning new ways to protect my space, both physically and energetically. I’m finding small rituals of strength – lighting a diya in the morning, chanting mantras for positive energy, keeping my intentions pure.

Clients are slowly returning. My children are still by my side, and though it’s hard, I’m grateful they’re learning what resilience looks like in rea life. I’m not just surviving; I’m transforming.

Closing Thoughts

This story isn’t about a helper who betrayed my trust. It’s about the silent battles so many mothers fighting behind the scenes – balancing business, children, and the fallout of bad decisions. It’s about how quickly life can shift from stability to struggle, and how we can still rise from it,

If you’re reading this and you’ve been through something similar, know this: you’re not alone. Your pain is valid. Your struggle is real. And your strength is far greater than you realize.

I still believe kindness is a virtue. But now I pair it with discernment. I still open my doors each morning. But now I do it with intention, with prayer, and with the fierce determination of a mother who refuses to let betrayal define her future.

A detailed article on how betrayal trauma affects mental and emotional health and what steps can help in recovery. Betrayal Trauma: Signs and How to Start Healing (Healthline)

3. When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillness

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When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillnesshttps://mysticalmomworld.com/dividing-house-chores-changed-my-peace-parenting-and-practice/

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillness…Festivals in India are not just about rituals; they are about togetherness, laughter, and creating memories that stay with us for a lifetime. Among them, Dasara (Navratri) holds a special place. The lights, the prayers, the decorated streets, the temple bells, and the joy of children running around in new clothes-this is the heartbeat of the season.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly

But this year, as the world outside danced in the spirit of Navratri, our home stood still. Not because we didn’t want to celebrate, but because life had other plans for us.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Dreams That Couldn’t Take Flight

For weeks before Dasara, I had been making plans in my heart. I wanted to take my kids out for at least two days of pure joy-let them see the beautifully decorated temples, play in the pandals, maybe even enjoy the cultural programs that brighten ourcity during this season.

I had one more dream: I wanted to attend events where I could explore my potential as an artist. It’s something that brings me joy, creativity, and a chance to connect with children and families. Festivals are the perfect time for such small ventures, and I had been looking forward to being part of the festive crowds with my paints and brushes.

But when the time came, my body simply said no. My health issues grew severe, and I found myself confined to bed, watching my dreams slip away like sand through my fingers.

A Father’s Silent Sacrifice

As if that wasn’t enough, my husband too is dealing with his own storm-living with a broken femur neck. For him every step is a challenge. He couldn’t jump around with kids, couldn’t carry them on his shoulders to show them the glowing lights, couldn’t run behind them at temple fairs.

But he didn’t give up. With the strength he could muster, he took the children to the temple in the morning, and in the evening, he took them outside to play in the sand. It may sound small compared to grand celebrations, but in that moment, it was everything.

For my children, it was their little slice of Dasara-tiny hands digging castles in the sand, giggles echoing in the evening breeze, and the temple bells ringing softly in the background.

My Children’s Innocence

I had feared that my children would feel the absence of celebration. After all, festivals are about fun for them-new clothes, outings, sweets, and cultural programs. They saw other children heading out in glittering dresses, families posting festival photos, and the roads lighting up with joy.

I worried they would ask me, “Why not us?” But children have an innocence that shields them from bitterness. My little ones adapted. They filled their day with cartoons, games at home, painted themselves along with the walls and laughter on the bed beside me. They even visited a neighbour’s house for kanjak pooja. They never once complained about not going out, not getting new dresses.

Instead, they gave me strength. They became my little festival, bringing joy in the smallest ways-even if it was just through their silly jokes or tight hugs when I felt like crying.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: The Festival That Didn’t Look Like One

When I looked around my home, I realized something painful-there was no sign of the festival at all. No colorful rangoli at the door, no fragrance of flowers, no sounds of laughter from relatives visiting.

Dasara was happening everywhere, but inside my four walls, it was just another day. A mother lying in bed, a father struggling with his pain, and two little children making the best of what they had.

It hurt. It hurt deeply to see the festival go by while we stayed behind. To know that I couldn’t give my children what every parent dreams of-happy memories to cherish. To accept that my body didn’t allow me to attend even a single event, not even the art venture I had been so excited about.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Lessons From The Goddess Herself

And yet, in the middle of this silence, I felt the presence of Goddess Durga. She didn’t come in the form of grand celebrations or temple visits. She came in the form of quite strength.

Dasara is about the victory of good over evil, strength over weakness, and hope over despair. This year, my “demons” were not mythical monsters but my own health struggles, my husband’s injury, and the sadness of unfilled plans. And yet, even in this battle, I found moments of victory.

Victory was in my husband’s determination to take the kids to the temple despite his broken leg. Victory was in my children’s laughter, proving that joy doesn’t always need grandness. Victory was in my ability to endure my pain while still being present with my family.

What This Dasara Taught Me

This year, I learned that festivals don’t always come wrapped in bright colors. Sometimes, they come in shades of gray, testing our patience, our strength, and our love for one another.

Yes, I missed the crowd, the music, the lights, and the energy of celebration. Yes, my heart still aches that I couldn’t watch my children run with other kids in festive outfits, couldn’t give them the joy I had envisioned.

But maybe, just maybe, this Dasara gave me something else-an understanding that love and togetherness matter more than decorations and outings. That strength is not in being able to do everything, but in enduring when you can do very little.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Looking Ahead With Hope

I close this Dasara with a prayer. A prayer that next year, life will be kinder. That my body will allow me to take my kids out in the bright lights of Navratri. That my husband’s strength will be restored, and he can walk beside them without pain. That I can set up my art venture, adding colors to children’s smiles, and feel like I truly belong in the festival crowd.

But even if life tests us again, I know this much-the spirit of Dasara lives in our hearts. As long as we hold on to love, faith, and resilience, no festival can ever pass us by completely.

Closing Thought

Not every festival is meant to be grand. Some festivals remind us of our limitations, while also teaching us about hidden strengths. This Dasara, I didn’t see the processions, didn’t hear the drums up so close, and didn’t light my home with decorations. Yet, I saw something deeper-I saw the strength of my husband, the innocence of my children, and the quite presence of the Goddess in our little world.

This Dasara wasn’t about what we couldn’t do. It was about what we still managed to hold on to-faith, family, and love.

https://www.kidsmentalhealthfoundation.org/mental-health-resources/stress/handling-holiday-stress

2. When Everything Feels Messed Up: A Mother’s Symphony

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When Everything Feels Messed Up: A Mother’s Symphonyhttps://mysticalmomworld.com/explaining-isnt-nagging/

When Everything Feels Messed Up: A Mother’s Symphony. Life doesn’t always flow the way we imagine. Somedays it feels like the universe is throwing every test at once – clients not paying on time, online orders disappearing into thin air, toddlers screaming at every “no”, older child unknowingly pressing emotional buttons, health troubles that drain energy, and a partner who doesn’t seem to step up when you need him the most.

When Everything Feels Messed Up

 

I had one such week. And if you are a mother reading this, maybe you’ve felt it too-the weight of carrying family, work, emotions, and health all at once .

When Work Drains More Than It Gives

One of the biggest stress triggers is when clients delay payments. You’ve done your part, invested your time, delivered the work, but the money doesn’t come back on time. Every gentle reminder feels like begging, and yet you stay polite because professionalism matters.

I’ve learned a few things from these situations:

Always set clear payment terms upfront.

Ask for advance or milestone payments wherever possible.

Follow up politely but firmly, without guilt.

It doesn’t remove the stress entirely, but it at least keeps boundaries clear.

When Online Orders Become Headaches

Sometimes it’s not just clients-small things like an online order with no tracking can become surprisingly big triggers. In isolation, it’s minor. But when combined with financial stress and family chaos, even one missing parcel feels like the world is against you.

I remind myself: if it’s non-refundable, it’s actually ant in pants. So in future, I will make sure to order only COD or refundable items. Packages don’t deserve my peace sacrifice.

Toddler Tears Over Every “No” 

My toddler is at the age where every denial feels like the end of the world. If I say “no” to chocolates, there are tears. If I say “no” to more screen time, there’s screaming. Sometimes, when i raise my voice, the crying worsens and even leads to health set backs like colds.

What helps?

Redirection: Instead of a flat “no”, I try: “Not now, but after lunch we can.” (My husband told me this trick)

Distraction: Music, toys, bubbles, or coloring work wonders.

Pick your battles; Some things aren’t worth the meltdown.

Yes, it’s exhausting, but it’s also part of their little world of learning boundaries.

The 7-Year-Old Who Breaks Me Without KnowingWhile the toddler throws tantrums, my 7-year-old daughter does something different-she unknowingly breaks me with words and actions. Her endless questions test my patience, her stubbornness about giving up on things, and sometimes, her innocence feels like rejection of all the effort I put in.

But I pause and remind myself: she’s not trying to hurt me. She’s just learning, just growing, just being enthusiastic towards what comes across. My role is to guide her through those struggles, even when my heart feels heavy.

For the Dasara holidays, I’ve been looking for ways to channel her energy.

DIY crafts like paper flowers and lanterns

Simple dance lessons from YouTube

Helping me in the kitchen with easy tasks

Reading bedtime stories together

These small activities give her attention, and give me a moment of calm too.

When Husband Doesn’t Step Up

This part is the hardest to write. Because while the children’s chaos is expected, what hurts most is when your partner doesn’t rise to the occasion. I’ve had days when my health is falling, energy is low, yet my husband doesn’t take charge of situations the way I silently hope he would.

It leaves me feeling alone in a house full of people.

I don’t have perfect advice for this-every marriage is different. But I’ve realized.

Express clearly, not silently. Me often miss hints.

Divide tasks openly. A simple list sometimes works better than silent resentment.

Self-care anyway. Even if no one else steps up, carve out 10 minutes for yourself.

Strength Hidden in Struggles

Mothers are not just superheroes in shiny costumes-they are warriors in daily life, juggling roles silently. Every time you calm your toddler after a tantrum, every time you smile through your exhaustion for your child, every time you handle work pressures despite being drained-you are building strength that even you may not notice.

Strength is not always about big victories; sometimes it’s just about making it through the day without giving up.

Finding Calm in the Chaos

So where does that leave me, when everything is messed up?

I breathe.

I journal.

I write blogs like this.

Because even in the noise of toddlers, the rebellion of 7-tear-old, the silence of a partner, and the uncertainty of money-there is a rhythm. A messy, imperfect, painful rhythm. But it is mine.

And maybe that’s what motherhood is. Not perfection, not balance, but a symphony of chaos and strength, where we keep fighting, even when we want to fall apart.

Finding Small Anchors

When everything feels messed up, what helps most are small anchors

Breathing spaces –  a 5-minute pause with tea, deep breaths, or even silence.

Letting go of perfection – children don’t need perfect parents, they need present ones.

Asking for help – strength is not doing everything alone, it’s knowing when to share the load.

Celebrating small wins – the tantrum that ended in a hug, the sibling smile after a fight, or even finishing your day’s chores deserves recognition.

Closing Note

If you are reading this and nodding along, know this: you are not alone. Every mother has her version of a symphony, filled with tantrums, laughter, tears, and little victories.

Chaos will never completely leave a mother’s life. There will always be noise, tears, broken schedules, and unexpected struggles. Life will not always flow smoothly. But your resilience-the quite way you handle work stress, comfort your toddler, entertain your 7-year-old. But when seen from another lens, this chaos isn’t just disorder-it is rhythm. It is the messy music of motherhood, where love and patience play alongside frustration and exhaustion.

And in that music, a mother creates something extraordinary: a symphony of strength that echoes louder than the challenges she faces.

So, the next time everything feels messed up, remember- you’re not breaking. You’re composing.

https://www.healthline.com/health/parenting/working-from-home-and-parenting

 

 

1. A Mother’s Sunday Symphony: Juggling Tantrums…

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A Mother’s Sunday Symphony: Juggling Tantrums…https://mysticalmomworld.com/dividing-house-chores-changed-my-peace-parenting-and-practice/

A Mother’s Sunday Symphony: Juggling Tantrums…Sunday. The world itself sounds like a promise of rest, a pause from the hectic rhythm of the week. But for  mother of two – one 7 years old and full of energy, and another 2 years old and brimming with curiosity – Sunday is less of a pause and more of a symphony of responsibilities, love, and chaos.

This is the story of one such Sunday.

  • Morning: The Menu of Love

The day begins early. The little one tugs at my  saree, chanting her favourite demand; “Amma, take me, I don’t want food!”

A Mother’s Sunday Symphony: Juggling Tantrums…

 

Meanwhile, my 7 years old insists that Sundays must mean something special – not the regular breakfast.

So, I become not just a mother, but also a master chef of wishes. Within minutes, the kitchen is filled with the aroma of crispy dosas, coconut chutney, and hot milk. For the elder one, i secretly add an extra treat – chocolate pancakes.

But cooking with two kids isn’t always picture-perfect. The toddler throws tantrums if I ask her to eat, runs around, cries, restless and demanding at the moment. If I raise my voice even slightly, she bursts into tears – and those tears aren’t simple. They often end with her nose blocked, coughing, and catching a cold that lingers for 15 to 20 days. Every word I speak has to be measured, every correction has to be soft.

The elder one doesn’t quite understand these delicate pauses. When I stop midway to calm her sister, she gets irritated. She asks endless questions – sometimes innocent, sometimes downright silly. And when I don’t answer, she repeats them louder, more annoyingly, until I sigh in exhaustion. Yes, I know these “annoying questions” are her way of seeking my time, my attention.

Still, the first bite of dosa and pancake brings smiles, that’s all the morning magic I need to keep going.

  • Afternoon Adventure: 21 kilometers of Commitment

If motherhood is a test of patience, then long-distance weekend classes are the exam paper. My elder one has odissi dance class on Sundays, 21 kilometers away. The younger one is also thrilled about the destination as the dance gurukul is a piece of art, a scent of divine and gives a warm goan feeling.

With a snack bag packed, a water bottle filled, and my toddler’s favorite toy in hand, we start the ride. On the way the elder one rehearses her dance steps in the car, her eyes shining with excitement. The younger one grumbles, throws mini tantrums, cries for attention, and finally dozes off on my lap – giving me a few minutes of peace.

It’s not just a car ride. It’s a moving classroom of love and endurance. One child learns discipline through dance, while the other tests patience with restlessness. And me? I learn resilience – again and again.

By the time we reach the class, I’m both tired and proud. Watching my daughter’s tiny feet match rhythm to taala (beats), I feel the exhaustion of 21 kilometers vanish in the serene music.

  • Afternoon Strength: Physical Training and the Cycling Battle

On the way back home, we stop for a session of outdoor physical activity and cycling in nature away from the city. Our day is still far from over. My husband and I believe in keeping the kids physically active by running, stretching, and simple sports.

But the real battle is cycling. My 7-year-old wants to give up. Pedaling feels like a mountain to her, balancing seems impossible, and every small fall feels like the end of the world. She says “Amma, I don’t want to cycle anymore”.

And yet, I insist. Not because I want to force her, but I know the day she finally pedals without falling will be the day she discovers her strength. Her sister, meanwhile, copies her – running with tiny steps, clapping when we cheer, making sad face when she falls, laughing at her own mistakes.

Two children, two worlds. One afraid of falling, another too little to even know what failure means.

I manage to responsibly handle the characters of spectator, referee, cheerleader and a coach at the same time. The sun is warm, the grass is green and the red soil ground making the surroundings fil the air with so much of love. I realise how precious this is – not just training the body, but also training the heart to stay joyful, even when life feels hard.

  • Evening: The Smile Hour

Evening is my favourite time. In our home we call it “Chai time”.

It’s not about gadgets or TV. It’s about board games, storytelling, drawing silly cartoons, sharing jokes, dancing our heart out and doing bhajan that don’t always make sense but always end in laughter and a smile from the core of our heart.

My elder daughter tells me about a new dance step, while my little one scribbles on the wall – her own version of art. I sigh, then laugh, because someday these scribbles will stop, but the memory will remain etched in my heart.

This smile hour is where all the day’s tiredness melts into giggles.

  • Night Finale: India vs. Pakistan
  •                          

Just when I think the day is winding down, the India-Pakistan cricket match begins.

I am a person who can stay hungry for such match. My elder one is trying to understand the match rules and players, meanwhile, younger one doesn’t actually understand cricket, but she claps every time we cheer. Me and my husband discussing the overs, sixes, fours, and wickets.

I am again having lots of roles to perform at the same time here. A cricket fan who doesn’t want to miss out on any ball, a mother who doesn’t want her kids to starve or let them sleep empty stomach. My juggle between making food, refilling water, and sneaking glances at the screen.

The living room turns out to be a  mini stadium. Every six hit by opposite team gave us a mini heart attack, every wicket debated, and every laugh shared.

And as the clock ticks past midnight, I look around at my family. Elder one is dozed of counting on wickets, meanwhile, the younger one wants to lay on me for a good sleep while I am wide awake with sparkling eyes.  Tired me, yes, but also glowing with the fullness of this Sunday.

  • Reflection of a Mother’s  Sunday

To the world, it may look like chaos – cooking multiple menus, managing tantrums, driving 2 kilometers, enduring silly questions, cheering while handling cycling battles, laughing in the evening, and staying up late for cricket.

But to me, it’s a symphony of love. Every demand met, every tear wiped, every mile driven, every giggle shared is a note in the melody of motherhood.

Sunday’s don’t give me rest. But they give me something more valuable – memories that will last a lifetime.

Because one day, my children will grow. Dance classes will end, silly questions will fade, tantrums will disappear, and dosa demands will turn into cafe outings.

But I will always remember these Sundays – the little chaos, the long drives, the tears the smiles, the questions, the failures, and the victories.

And that, I believe is the real win – bigger than any cricket match.

If you are a mother reading this, tired from cooking different meals, answering endless questions, handling tantrums, or trying to balance work, home, and your own dreams – know this: you are not alone.

Our children may not remember every dosa we made, every ride we drove, or every time we sacrificed our rest. But they will remember the feeling of being lived, protected, and heard.

Motherhood is not about perfection. It’s about patience when we are exhausted, laughter in the middle of chaos, and strength when we feel like giving up.

So, the next time your toddler cries over nothing, or your 7-year-olx refuses to cycle, or your Sunday feels like a marathon – remind yourself: this is love in action. Messy, noisy, tiring…but unforgettable.

And one day, when the house is quite, you will look back at these Sundays and smile – because you created not just routines, bur memories that shaped your children’s world.

“Creative activities like singing with your child not only strengthen emotional bonds but also improve overall well-being—a perspective supported by studies on music and motherhood.”https://www.rcm.ac.uk/research/projects/musicandmotherhood