Cold Coffee and Motherhood
My mom asked me the other day, “Are you used to drinking cold coffee now?” I answered, “Yeah.” But in my head, I was thinking, yes, since I became a mom.
Because the truth is, once you have a kid, hot coffee becomes a rare event. You pour a cup, thinking you’ll finally get five quiet minutes. But then someone needs a snack, can’t find their shoe, spills something, starts fighting with their sibling, or melts down because the internet stopped working.
You set the mug down, thinking you’ll come back to it in a minute. An hour later, it’s still sitting there. Cold. Half full. Forgotten.
The Interrupted Cup
I used to reheat it. Once. Then again. Then a third time, depending on how the day was going. Eventually, I gave up. The coffee was never hot by the time I actually had a chance to drink it. It became something I sipped while sitting at my desk, trying to work, answering what’s for dinner, or figuring out how to respond to questions I didn’t even understand.
I stopped expecting it to be hot. I started drinking it as-is. Whatever temperature it was when I got back to it, that’s what I drank.
It didn’t bother me like it used to. At first, it felt like one of those sacrifices no one talks about. One of those invisible adjustments you make in mom life that only makes sense to the people living it. But over time, I started to see it for what it was.
A Quiet Reminder
Drinking cold coffee is not about giving up on hot drinks. It’s about what comes in between. All the small things that fill your day before you return to the mug. All the moments where you’re needed and pulled in five directions. The math homework. The shoes that don’t fit. The crumbs you step on. The questions you answer on autopilot.
It becomes a quiet reminder that your energy is going somewhere important, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.
No one gives you a gold star for surviving the mornings. There’s no prize for staying calm while all three kids are crying at once. You just get through it and move on to the next thing. Sometimes with a lukewarm coffee in hand.
Resisting the Pressure to "Enjoy It All"
There’s this pressure to enjoy every moment. I’ve heard it a thousand times. “These days go by so fast.” “You’ll miss this one day.” And sure, I get the sentiment. But it’s hard to soak it all in when you haven’t had a real meal or a hot drink in two days.
Cold coffee doesn’t feel like a dreamy motherhood memory. It feels like one of those things you tolerate. Not something you scrapbook or post about with a smile. It’s part of the mess, part of the change, and part of that quiet shift where your comfort starts to take a backseat.
But here’s what I’ve come to realize: it’s also a sign that I’m doing the work. I’m present. I’m showing up. I may not get to drink my coffee hot, but I am here. Fully. Often tired. Sometimes overwhelmed. But still here.
It’s Not About the Coffee
Coffee gets cold fast when you’re deep in motherhood. It’s not really about the drink. It’s about all the half-finished things. The diaper changes, the snack requests, the “Mama?” every three minutes. You pour a cup and the next thing you know, it’s been an hour and you’re reheating it again.
When my mom asked me that question, she probably didn’t expect it to stick with me. But it did. It made me pause and realize how many things I’ve adjusted without thinking. How many routines I’ve reshaped to fit around everyone else. How many small pieces of my day I’ve let go of in order to keep everything else running?
And somehow, that mug of cold coffee on the kitchen counter sums it all up.
Making Peace with the Season
There will be a time when I get to sit down with a hot drink and finish it without interruption. I know that. There will be a time when no one needs me in that moment, when my thoughts don’t come in short bursts between requests and questions.
But that time is not now. Right now, I have kids who still call me for help with socks and snack bags. I have mornings that start too early and nights that end too late. I have coffee that rarely stays warm but always manages to get finished eventually. Usually, while wiping counters or answering emails. And weirdly, I’ve made peace with that.
I still like hot coffee. I still try to drink it warm when I can. But I don’t feel bad about the half-finished mugs or the reheated cups. They’re not a failure. They’re a snapshot. A quiet marker of a season where I’m giving a lot, living in motion, and learning that some things can wait.
Coffee can be one of them.
You’ll Finish It Eventually...
Some days you’ll take three sips before the baby wakes up. Some days you’ll pour it and forget it exists until the late afternoon. And some days, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to sit for a whole five minutes and enjoy it while it’s still warm.
But even when it’s cold. Even when it’s reheated for the third time. It still counts.
Because you’re still doing it. You’re still showing up. Still holding it together with one hand on your mug, the other on your mouse, trying to finish whatever work got interrupted. And that matters more than how warm the coffee is.
Mommy Ces
Mom of three, figuring things out one day at a time. I write about the real parts of motherhood, the messy days, the little wins, and all the in-betweens that don’t always make it to Instagram. This space is a mix of stories, reflections, and reminders that you're not alone.
