The Small Wins That Change Everything: Rainy day parenting reflections from the couch with a cup of tea in hand.

Niki Paige
Jun 9
3 min read

It’s a rainy afternoon—the kind the kind that makes the house feel soft around the edges, the kind that slows everything down. Everything feels just a little quieter. The sky is gray, the windows are streaked with soft lines of water, and the whole house seems to exhale.

Upstairs, my youngest is sketching stars and daydreams in her notebook. Down the hall, her sister is piecing together yet another homemade board game, complete with hand-cut tokens and rules still under debate.

And here’s what I notice: No one has asked to watch TV. No one is begging for a screen. Instead, they are absorbed in their own worlds—creating, imagining, building something out of nothing.

That alone feels like a win. A quiet, sneaky little win. The kind of win that would be easy to miss unless you were paying attention.

So I make a cup of tea and curl up with my book. And for a few brief, sacred minutes, the house is filled with the hum of imagination instead of background noise. My body softens. My nervous system sighs. It’s not flashy or Instagram-worthy, but I’m winning in this moment.

Not because everything is perfect. (It’s not. There’s laundry in the dryer and dirty dishes in the sink.) But because everyone is okay. Content. Creating. Engaged in their own quiet world.

But it’s not just about the silence or the lack of bickering or the absence of glowing screens. It’s about what’s present instead: imagination, peace, inward stillness. It’s about the choice—perhaps even the instinct—to create instead of consume. To listen to our own thoughts instead of someone else’s highlight reel. To be with ourselves. To let boredom give birth to something meaningful.

And I have a moment to breathe. To read. Maybe even to write.

These are the moments I want more of. Not hours of uninterrupted bliss (though wouldn’t that be nice?). But these—these quiet, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it victories.

The small shift from consuming to creating. From noise to stillness.From autopilot to presence.

And I know it won’t always be like this. We’ll have the messy, overstimulating days. The screen-heavy, sugar-high, emotionally-explosive moments (because, kids). But in the cracks between all of that, we can find these tiny glimmers of something different. Something nourishing.

These are the small shifts I live for. The ones that go unnoticed in the daily storm of parenting but matter more than we know.

And here’s what I’ve learned:We don’t need big, sweeping changes.We just need to notice the small wins.To name them. To hold them up to the light.

Maybe your win today was different. Maybe it was a peaceful breakfast. Or one deep breath instead of a yell. Or simply making it through the day without crumbling.

That counts. It all counts.

So here’s your reminder, from one parent to another: The work you’re doing matters. The small shifts matter. The quiet moments matter.

Let’s stretch them. Let’s linger in them.Let’s litter our summer with a whole cacophony of these small, sacred wins.

Because the truth is, the magic isn’t in doing it all right. It’s in noticing when something feels right—and letting yourself soak it in.

We don’t need perfection. We need presence.

The joy. The peace. The freedom. The creation.

All hiding in plain sight—waiting for us to notice in the simplest of moments. Like a rainy afternoon. A cup of tea. And two kids creating quietly in the room next door.

A gentle reflection for you, if you want it: