Motherhood lives in the everyday. In sunlit corners, slow mornings, and the quiet rhythm of home.
Photographed by families within our community, Made for Mothers is a collection that authentically captures the moments between. A reminder that home is not a place, but the arms we return to.
We caught up with some mothers from our community to hear some of their reflections on Motherhood.
Reflections from Rose Keddell
I do not take for granted how much time I spend with my girls and I do try to appreciate the magic in the mundane. I've had lots of lovely people comment to me as they walk past how special these days are and that they'd love to go back & honestly I love it. It's a reminder that it's not forever and to savor it as much as I can. It is a very full life, constantly meeting the needs of others and really not giving much thought to yourself. I mean that though in a really positive way. I found it so refreshing after 30 years of focusing mostly on my own life, to put all of my energy into somebody else's. A fresh purpose which is totally rewarding.
Reflections from Hannah Beaden
I’m a mum of four, originally from California, now raising my kids with my husband Sam on the Sunshine Coast in Australia. We have three boys and one girl, aged 6, 4, 2, and a newborn. I hope they remember their childhood as magical, welcoming, and full of friends and family, I didn’t expect to have four kids, but this season feels fuller, busier, and more special than I ever imagined.
Reflections from Annika Hanne
And I hope you remember how we licked cream from a spoon each time we opened a new bottle of milk
A great big fanfare for some ordinary dairy
How we danced in the kitchen nearly every morning
And you helped each other pull on your boots at sunrise
Waited in the laundry because of the red dirt caked to your soles while I made tea to drink outside
How the sun hit our faces at different points of the day as we found the light and drowned our skin
How we got outside every chance we had but how we rarely made it anywhere before 10am
How we were serious and stoic in our protection of slow rhythms and rituals and reading
And how the pile of shoes at the backdoor only ever really made me smile
Little markers of mess imperative to the way your bodies became each moment
How so much of our day was centred around the orbit of the kitchen
A masterpiece we constructed from flour and sizzle and momentum
Things spilt on counter tops as your hands pressed down the crumble, salted the meat
Your face alight as you watched apples bubble in the oven
Bread rise, cream turn to butter—all senses firing, laughter layered into the dough
How you sat and ate cherries on the bench while I made lunch, three sets of lips stained red and perfect
How you set the table outside for breakfast on a sunny Thursday while I made pancakes and we picked blackberries for jam
How we made milkshakes at 5pm leaning against the brick of the fireplace while we waited for food that was probably still hours away
Back to front dinner you all declared, delighted!
How we romanticised it all, lit the candle, sang the songs
How I would watch you at your art table through the kitchen window as you’d draw and paint and create
How we played rock music way too loud in the car, our own private party that people crossing the road would stop to smile at
How I wrote less, but probably remembered more
How we weaved magic into Mondays and all the other days and how I could say that it was me who strived to orchestrate that but in reality it was you
All three of you composing the creation, I just had to find comfort in the still waters to let us float
How I hope one day when you speak of your childhood you use words like joy and comfort and freedom
How love washed our whole house with its grace and power
And how really it’s me who hopes to remember.
Shop the mother's capsule