Before I had kids, I would begin my day with a few minutes of meditation. It was nothing very formal or prolonged, just a simple greeting the day by looking out the window to the world outside, then sitting down in a quiet place and checking in with myself.

I would sit quietly and listen to my body: was there anything it was trying to tell me? Did it have any discomforts or pains? Did it need to move more? Were there places that felt tight or stuck? Did my body feel flexible and strong? Then I would listen to my mind: what thoughts were pressing? What feelings were present? How did I want to approach the day? It was peaceful and beautiful, it only took a few minutes, and I thought I would do it daily for the rest of my life.

Then, I had children. Now don’t get me wrong, I adore my two boys. They bring so much joy to my life and to my heart. But my mornings no longer start in the same peaceful matter.

Right now, instead of waking up once my body is rested, I wake up – often still feeling rather exhausted – when my toddler starts to fuss and get restless. Sometimes I can convince him to nurse a little bit and then fall back asleep for a few more blissful minutes of rest. But generally, once he starts to move around, we get up. And for the last few months this awakening has been in the neighborhood of 5am.

There is no time to begin my day with a time of peaceful meditation. My life as a mama begins immediately.

Thankfully, my 6-year-old frequently sleeps a bit later than my toddler. But soon he hears his brother playing and making noise, and he too is ready to begin the day. Many mornings our day is in full swing: music playing, kids dancing, toys strewn all over the living room, and me cooking breakfast all by 6:30am.

After waking in a ready-to-go state morning after morning, year-after-year, I frequently found myself beginning my day at in already frazzled state-of-mind. The sitting and setting a calm intention for the day wasn’t happening nearly often enough.

And then, my 6-year-old asked to sit in my lap and I felt something soften inside of me. He makes this request most mornings. He wakes up, and he wants a few minutes of snuggle time before he begins his day. And as long as my toddler isn’t nursing, I stop whatever I am doing to make this happen. (If my toddler is nursing, I make sure that the 6-year-old can snuggle beside me, and I hug him close with my one free arm.)

On that morning of softening, it occurred to me that instead of spending these few minutes of my child sitting in my lap attempting to figure out what needs to happen next and planning for the day, those precious minutes can be my new meditation. I can use that time of calm and snuggles – and, truly, there are few things as precious as having one or two boys snuggled in your lap as the sun rises – to engage in my morning reflection.

As our bodies are collectively filled with love and touch and togetherness, I can turn inward and check in with my own body and mind. Then I can approach the day from a more-centered and peaceful place. In addition, this is the perfect time for me to check in with my boys, and reflect on where they seem to be, and what their needs and feelings are at this time.

My meditation practice may not be the same as it was prior to children, but I’m finding small ways to bring myself back to mindfulness and back to my center even in the midst of the frequent chaos that is life with two young boys.

How do you begin your day in order to foster a calm and centered outlook?