Hi, I’m Zara — a full-time working mom, part-time home chef, bedtime story narrator, and proud mama to a spirited three-year-old boy who recently decided that the alphabet song is the national anthem of our household.
If you’re reading this, you’re probably juggling a million things at once too: work deadlines, dinner plans, and potty training — all while trying to sneak in some “educational play” so your little one doesn’t start kindergarten thinking “Q” is just a fancy “O.” Sound familiar? You’re not alone.
In this article, I’m going to walk you through how we’ve turned learning the alphabet into a daily adventure — not a chore. I’ll share the messy, real-life side of making time for early learning, some of our favorite games, how I balance everything (barely), and remind you that yes, you are doing enough.
The Morning Juggle: Time Management That Actually Works (Sort Of)
Let’s start with the elephant in the room — time. I used to think I had none. Then I had a toddler, and suddenly I realized I really had none. Between Zoom meetings, meal prep, and all the other chaos, carving out even ten minutes for ABC games felt impossible.
But here’s the trick: micro-moments matter.
Here’s how we make it work:
- During breakfast: We play “Alphabet I Spy.” I’ll say, “I spy something that starts with B,” and he’ll point to the banana.
- In the car: We sing the alphabet song with silly voices — robot voice, dinosaur roar, you name it.
- While folding laundry: I’ll hold up a shirt and say, “Shirt starts with S. What else starts with S?” It becomes a spontaneous scavenger hunt.
I learned that I didn’t need to block off an hour to teach my son the alphabet. I just needed to weave learning into our routine, like thread into a favorite old quilt.
Fun & Easy Alphabet Learning Games We Love
I used to get overwhelmed by Pinterest-perfect learning activities — laminated flashcards, themed playdough trays, alphabet obstacle courses. But I’ve found that the simplest games are often the best.
1. Sticky Note Letter Hunt
I write letters on sticky notes and hide them around the house. Then, my son races around finding them and shouting the letters as he finds them. Sometimes we match them to his alphabet puzzle or sing the song as we stick them in order.
2. Alphabet Soup (No Cooking Required)
We fill a bowl with foam letters (you can grab them cheap online) and he fishes them out with a spoon or small strainer. For every letter he gets, he has to name something that starts with that letter. Great for bath time too!
3. ABC Jump Game
I chalk letters on the sidewalk and call out a letter — he jumps on it. It’s like hopscotch meets phonics. On rainy days, we tape paper letters to the floor inside.
4. Letter of the Day
We pick one letter each day and talk about it whenever we can — while getting dressed (“P is for pants!”), at snack time (“Pretzels start with P!”), or while reading books.
These games aren’t just about learning letters — they’re about bonding, giggling, and sometimes collapsing in a pile of foam alphabet chaos on the living room rug.
The Guilt Game: Learning to Let It Go
I used to feel a knot in my stomach every time I dropped my son off at daycare, knowing I wouldn’t be there to see him learn his ABCs. That mom guilt? It’s real. Crushing, even.
But then I started noticing how he lit up when we played together in the evenings. How he remembered a silly rhyme I made up in the car. How he proudly pointed out the letter “M” at the grocery store and yelled, “M for Mommy!”
That’s when it hit me: It’s not about doing everything. It’s about being present when you can.
There are still days I forget it. Days when I’m short-tempered or too tired to play. But I remind myself — and I hope you do too — that our love and attention matter far more than any structured lesson ever could.
Carving Out Self-Care: Because Burnt-Out Moms Can’t Teach the Alphabet
I’ll be honest — I used to roll my eyes at the phrase “self-care.” Who has time for bubble baths when the kitchen looks like a spaghetti bomb exploded?
But when I started showing signs of burnout — snapping more, sleeping less, feeling resentful of everything — I knew something had to change.
Here’s what’s helped me:
- Early morning me-time: Just 15 quiet minutes with my coffee and a journal before the chaos begins.
- Screen-free walks: I take my son outside for a walk and leave my phone behind. Fresh air + no distractions = a reset for us both.
- Saying no: I’ve stopped overcommitting. If I need to order pizza or skip an event, I do it guilt-free.
Self-care isn’t selfish. It’s survival. And the more I take care of myself, the more patient and present I can be for my son — even when he asks me to sing the ABCs for the 93rd time that day.
Work-Life Balance: More Like a See-Saw Than a Scale
Balancing work and parenting isn’t about getting it perfect — it’s about staying flexible. Some days I feel like Supermom. Other days I’m hiding in the bathroom, Googling “how to stay calm when your toddler throws applesauce at the cat.”
My go-to strategies:
- Use tech to your advantage: I set reminders for little learning bursts during the day or quick activities we can do together.
- Ask for help: Whether it’s your partner, parents, or a babysitter — lean on your village.
- Celebrate the small wins: If we sang the alphabet song and played one quick game today, that’s a win.
I also make peace with the fact that some days won’t go to plan. And that’s okay.
Empowering Takeaway: Mama, You’re Doing Amazing
If you’ve made it this far, here’s what I want you to hear loud and clear: You’re doing a great job.
Your toddler won’t remember whether you used flashcards or finger paint. They’ll remember how you made learning fun. They’ll remember your voice singing the ABCs. They’ll remember the sticky notes and sidewalk chalk and laughter.
So if today’s alphabet game was just singing the song in the car — celebrate that. If you skipped it entirely and cuddled during a cartoon instead — celebrate that too.
Because at the end of the day, learning is everywhere, and love is the best teacher of all.
You’ve got this, mama.
Let’s raise curious, happy little learners — one letter at a time.