When I was growing up, much of what my mom accomplished seemed to happen through the night. It was Mom Magic. Immaculate snacks for elementary birthday treats. Hand-sewn Halloween costumes. Puffy painted T-shirts that commanded admiration in the 1991 elementary fashion scene. Somehow, after moderating the squabbles of five kids for eighteen hours, my mom could rally rather than get ready for bed herself. Only as I matured and became a mom have I come to appreciate all of her after-hours extras—and even more so, how her creativity shone when the sun went down.

My mom’s knack for night-shift crafting was a trait I happily inherited in the genetic raffle—or maybe it was a learned behavior I picked up. Either way, it’s a seemingly necessary characteristic for motherhood. I feel blessed to carry this part of her with me—the confidence to start a late-night project and pull it off by morning feels like a superpower. Procrastination? Maybe. A demonstration of efficiency for a woman with almost no time for herself? Absolutely. The daily schedule of a mom necessitates these night moves.

Moms’ brains are chock-full of every little detail—the precise location of soccer socks in the laundry, the pediatrician’s phone number, the family calendar, where you last saw the good sippy cup that doesn’t leak. Carrying this mental load, it’s easy to see why many moms feel mental burnout and seek creativity as a respite from the motherload of things we oversee. Being free to create loosens the beloved but stagnant buildup in our brains.

My creative focus is flowers. Flowers teach us much about motherhood, so these facets of my life marry well. The seasonality of their enjoyment mimics the stages of toddlerhood that I found to be so sweet and precious. When that season ended, I realized how much beauty the next season could bring without me even knowing it. The notion that God knows better and guides my work for the season I’m in and the season I’m preparing for brings me peace. In the last few years, my children have grown into the dependable perennials that no longer require the care that dahlias and new babies demand. Their hardiness allows for new growth.  In flowers and in motherhood, I find balance between nurturing and allowing nature to take its course—trusting that I’ve provided the necessary nutrients to foster success in the long haul, but still fussing and worrying over each tender bloom.

Designing weddings has become a creative outlet for me to appreciate flowers while satisfying deeply rooted facets of my personality outside motherhood. I love to create beautiful things. I love having the expertise that this job requires. I adore growing the specialty elements of a bouquet that set my work apart from others. I love handing off a stunning bouquet to a beautiful bride, knowing the precious future that awaits her. I love working on a deadline and finding the stamina after the day is done to meticulously create something delicate and worthy of admiration. 

Creating wedding florals for couples has become a blessing to me as a creative and as a mother, and it is inevitably a nod to my mom, whose creative midnight magic made me feel confident in my ability to make magic happen in just a few hours after bedtime. Moonlighting as a designer has also given me a small business that can wax or wane based on my family’s needs. In high-demand seasons of life, I could choose only those weddings that were a perfect fit. I’ve taken on bigger, more challenging work in less demanding seasons. I’ve had the opportunity to “flower” for family, my good friends, former students, and new friends. I’m proud that my children have grown up seeing me do creative work, knowing they are always my number one priority and the greatest things I’ve ever grown.