Amalia Mendoza

Relearning the World Through My Children’s Eyes

I never knew that becoming a mother would completely change the way I experience life—not just in the big ways, like sleepless nights or constant laundry, but in how I now see the smallest things with new wonder. A snail on the sidewalk, a beam of light hitting a spoon just right, the texture of flour between tiny fingers—everything is new again when you live alongside curious young children.

Raising my two little ones has been less about teaching them and more about allowing them to teach me. They’ve slowed me down, peeled back my layers of urgency and perfectionism, and shown me how to be present. Truly present. And that, I’ve learned, is where the real learning happens—for both of us.

Finding Meaning in the Mess​

There were days when I tried to keep everything “in order”—neat schedules, toy rotation systems, meticulously planned learning activities. But children have a way of reminding you that life doesn’t always follow a script. Now, I value the chaos as part of the process. The mess on the table means they were creating something. The pile of leaves on the porch means we spent the afternoon outside.

Our rhythm isn’t perfect. But it’s ours. It ebbs and flows, some days faster, some slower. Some days I guide, some days I follow. But always, I observe. Because when I observe, I learn what they’re ready for, what excites them, and how to step back without disappearing.

Creative Parenting in a Visual World​

I’ve found great value in expressing and processing this parenting journey visually. Sometimes words aren’t enough, and I turn to images, sketches, and collages—little vignettes of life with young children. Documenting this journey has helped me not only reflect but also connect with others who are exploring similar paths.

One creative space that’s felt like a visual diary for me is https://www.deviantart.com/kukoomontessori. It’s where moments become more than memories—they become shared glimpses into everyday parenting, captured with care. I don’t go there for perfection or polish. I go to celebrate the beauty in the real, the rough drafts of our days.

Whether it’s a photo of a toddler tracing letters in flour or a sketch that came to me after a hard parenting moment, having a place to visually reflect has made me a more thoughtful and present parent. And sometimes, it helps me remember: even the hard days are worth remembering.

Learning Through Observation​

In our home, learning isn’t about worksheets or results—it’s about process. Watching my children explore a sensory tray, build a tower, or comfort each other after a disagreement teaches me more than any parenting book. They’re constantly building their emotional and cognitive muscles through play, repetition, and interaction.

I started curating these small learning moments and organizing them in ways that helped me notice patterns, progress, and passion points. This eventually led me to build a small portfolio of projects—a space that blends creativity and child development. One such place is https://www.behance.net/kukoomontessori, where I’ve shared visual reflections and playful learning inspirations based on our real-life routines.

I’m not a designer by trade, but in parenting, I’ve become something of a creative strategist—balancing needs, materials, energy levels, and interests to create meaningful moments. The visual format on platforms like Behance allows me to map out and share these discoveries in a way that’s helpful to me and, I hope, to others on a similar path.

The Power of Small, Repeated Things​

What’s struck me most on this journey is how powerful repetition is for children. Pouring water, stacking cups, opening and closing boxes—these aren’t just distractions. They’re practice. They’re mastery. They’re joy. When I stopped interrupting or “redirecting,” I started seeing what learning really looked like.

I’ve become more comfortable with quiet play, longer silences, and unscheduled afternoons. I’ve learned that boredom often precedes brilliance, that frustration builds resilience, and that children thrive not on constant instruction, but on safe, patient presence.

Community and Connection​

I’m not on this journey alone. While I spend most of my days at home with my kids, I’ve found community in creative spaces and parenting forums. Some days, a quiet scroll through posts from other reflective parents is enough to refill my cup. Other days, I need to step away and sit on the floor with my child as they dump a basket of blocks. Both are valid. Both are part of the rhythm.

The online spaces I engage with aren’t glossy. They’re soft, exploratory, and rooted in real life. I gravitate toward creators who value honesty, imperfection, and play. And I try to contribute in the same spirit—sharing not to impress, but to connect.

Looking Ahead​

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Maybe more spilled paint. Maybe another growth spurt. Maybe a breakthrough in a tantrum. But I do know that I’ll be there for it, trying to stay open, kind, and curious.

If this season of motherhood has taught me anything, it’s that nothing lasts—but everything teaches. I want to remember that as I go: to not rush the hard parts, to savor the small wins, and to keep noticing how much we’re all growing, together.

And if you’re somewhere in this journey too, figuring it out moment by moment—I’m glad you’re here.