Cookies for Breakfast: Permission to Pause

2026 Update: Written 2013 during a season of loud houses, busy weekends, and endless to-do lists. I hated gardening then. I really did. I see it differently now — but this moment still makes me smile.

I had coffee and cookies for breakfast.

You know why because I wanted to!

The house was finally empty after a busy, loud house full this weekend.

The Mr. and I got the dreaded yard work done.

Mowing, trimming, sweeping, tidying the barrage of toys and sports equipment etc left around from the children, balls and pool noodles on the trampoline…

and gardening, Uggg.

I hate gardening!

Yes, I know it’s a strong word, that’s what I tell my children when they use it, don’t use the word hate unless you really mean it, well I DO!

I have no idea how people think gardening is ‘relaxing or leisurely!’

Seriously?

Snuggling on a couch (I should have went with writing sofa Mrs instead of writings of a Mrs!) reading a book is relaxing or sitting by the fire with a drink and friends is relaxing.

Gardening is not.

Even with gardening gloves, I get poked by the rose bushes, run into random bugs and worms Ewww, trip over rakes, I STILL get dirt under my nails even with gloves, I try to pull out the dreaded new little trees that seem to pop up everywhere and fall over while doing it, Alex throws dirt from his area of the garden on to my flip flopped toes (and I see his little smirk afterwards….) ruining my pedicure…

So I will say it again, I hate gardening.  There are so many things that I have to do in life that I really dislike but I do it anyway like a good wife and Mother but when the house is empty on Monday mornings, I have my coffee and COOKIES for breakfast and take a moment for me…

Oh and just for the record we had a fire that night after gardening when the little’s were in bed with the yard looking pristine, so…I’m glad we did it…

*END RANT*

Looking Back

What makes me laugh now is how much things change.

I still don’t love dirt under my nails but they are pretty short now. Years later, I appreciate what gardening gives back. The quiet. The patience. Watching new life. The sense of tending something slowly over time. Back then, I was in the thick of it. Loud houses. Busy weekends. A blended family of 8. Monday mornings that felt like the only breath I got.

The cookies weren’t really about breakfast.
They were about permission.

Permission to pause.
Permission to do something a little naughty.
Permission to enjoy something small.
Permission to admit I didn’t love every part of motherhood — and still loved my life dearly.

Things have changed now. The nest is empty. When I buy cookies, they’re still there when I finally want one. But I’d trade a quiet morning with coffee and cookies for a few more days of that weekend chaos in a heartbeat.

And still — I think cookies for breakfast are sometimes exactly the right choice.