Motherhood as a Second Childhood

Motherhood has this funny way of making you feel like a kid again.

Suddenly, the world that once felt so routine and ordinary becomes magical. All because you’re seeing it through the eyes of someone discovering it for the first time.

A butterfly landing on a flower? To them, it’s a miracle. A puddle after the rain? An invitation to splash and laugh like the world is brand new. You find yourself slowing down, noticing the details you once ignored—the colour of the sky at sunset, the way the leaves crunch underfoot. It’s like the universe presses pause, just for a moment, and says, “Look. Remember.”

Before motherhood, life was a rush. You moved through it with a sense of urgency, always onto the next thing, always checking something off a list. Now, your child becomes the unexpected teacher, pulling you back into the moment. They stop you in your tracks, demanding you take notice of the wonders they see every day. The magic isn’t in far-off places anymore.

It’s right here, in the tiny miracles you’d long forgotten.

You start to see it in everything. The way their eyes light up when they see bubbles for the first time. The way they giggle uncontrollably at the sound of rustling leaves. It’s more than just observing them, it's living it with them. Their joy becomes your joy, their discoveries become yours. You’re not just watching them experience the world for the first time, you’re re-experiencing it right alongside them.

In these moments, you begin to realize that childhood never truly leaves us. It’s buried under the weight of responsibilities and routines but it’s still there, waiting to be unearthed by the laughter of a child. There’s something so pure, so innocent, about the way children see the world. They approach everything with a sense of wonder, without cynicism or fear. As you walk with them, you feel that same sense of wonder creeping back into your own heart.

You find yourself slowing down, truly slowing down, to match their pace. What used to be mundane errands are now adventures. Kmart aisles become race tracks, laundry becomes a game of hide-and-seek, and a walk to the park turns into a treasure hunt for the most beautiful rock or the brightest leaf. You begin to notice things you hadn’t paid attention to in years. The way sunlight filters through the trees, the sound of birds chirping at dawn, the smell of fresh rain. It’s as if your senses have been reawakened, thanks to the little hand holding yours.

Motherhood, it turns out, is not just about teaching your child. It’s about letting your child teach you, too. They teach you how to wonder again, how to be present, how to let go of the need to always be somewhere else. They remind you that life is not just about the big milestones, but about the beauty in the small, everyday moments. That joy can be found in the most unexpected places if you’re willing to stop and look for it.

There’s something almost spiritual about rediscovering the world through your child’s eyes. It’s as if they hold the key to a door you’d closed long ago, and with each passing day, that door opens a little wider. You start to feel connected to the child you once were—the one who found magic in a dandelion, who danced in the rain without a second thought, who believed anything was possible.

It’s not always easy. There are days when you feel the weight of adulthood pulling you back into its routines and responsibilities, when it’s hard to slow down and be present. Then all of a sudden, your child will tug on your sleeve, pointing at something that seems insignificant and the world comes into focus again. They remind you to breathe, to laugh, to let go of the pressures you carry.

That’s the beautiful paradox of motherhood—it’s a second childhood wrapped in the responsibilities of adulthood. You’re tasked with guiding and nurturing your child, but in return, they guide you back to parts of yourself you’d forgotten. They strip away the layers of adulthood that have hardened you, and in their place, they plant seeds of curiosity, joy, and wonder.

So, as much as you’re teaching them, they’re teaching you, too. They’re showing you how to see the world again, how to embrace the magic in the mundane, how to rediscover a sense of wonder you thought was long lost. In the process, they’re teaching you to be present for your own life in a way you haven’t been for years.

Motherhood isn’t just about raising children. It’s about allowing yourself to return to a place of wonder, one step at a time, hand in hand with the little soul who sees beauty everywhere. In their eyes, you find the world is not just new to them.

It’s new to you, too.

Payton x