I am a mother. I embrace the titles “Mom,” “Mommy,” and “Mama.” I even respond to the enthusiastic “MOMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEE!!!”
I often wear yoga pants, though my yoga routine is non-existent. Pairing them with running shoes is my go-to, despite my lack of running. A baseball cap conceals my hair, either due to my gray roots or simply because I haven’t found time to wash it—today or yesterday. My nail polish is chipped, my undergarments don’t match, and I’m sporting my daughter’s unicorn socks. That’s just my style.
On other occasions, I opt for jeans—not the dreaded “mom jeans,” as I have some standards. When I do dress up for date night with my husband, I still prefer the comfort of my favorite sweats while we lounge on our not-so-cozy couch, watching reruns of classic shows, knowing my kids are safe in their rooms just down the hall.
I find myself in the realm of middle-aged, middle-class, and comfortably ordinary. While I may not be the best housekeeper, my home is filled with love and laughter. Cooking isn’t my forte, and while I wish I could improve my culinary skills, I know I won’t anytime soon. My freezer is stocked with frozen waffles, and there’s white bread in the cupboard—please don’t judge me.
Currently, I’m facing six loads of laundry to tackle, five to fold, and four to put away. I’m the designated driver of our family minivan—fondly dubbed The Golden Bus—adorned with seven stick figure stickers (including the dog), a “my kid plays sports” magnet, and a floor littered with Goldfish crumbs and empty water bottles. It’s got 104K miles, and while it’s a sweet ride, the smell and noise from the backseat might be a deal-breaker for some.
I embrace my imperfections. I have my moments of frustration and the occasional slip of bad language. Sometimes, I need a time-out myself. I love to “pin” creative ideas, but the reality of crafting never quite measures up to the Pinterest standard. I’ve binge-watched entire seasons of shows like Gossip Girl and Breaking Bad, which may have taken precedence over quality time with my kids. Perhaps I should consider getting them each a puppy to make up for it.
My children are thoughtful, and my husband and I set an example that fills me with pride. I can be a bit inappropriate at times, finding humor in situations that might not warrant it. While I may not track the news closely, I stay attuned to my children’s lives—they are my world news.
At times, I battle guilt for not spending enough time with my kids, but there are also moments when I crave a break, and that’s perfectly acceptable. Some days, I might struggle to like them, but my love remains unwavering every minute of every day. I cherish the friendship I have with my children, and I hope it lasts forever.
I don’t demand perfection in grades, but I do expect them to give their best effort. If they try and stumble, they receive support rather than punishment. I believe that consequences should be appropriate. We don’t cry over spilled milk, but if someone intentionally hurts another’s feelings, tears are likely. (And please, clean up the milk yourself—I’m your mother, not your maid.)
I find myself mediating sibling squabbles daily, sometimes quietly rooting for one child more than the other. Respect is a two-way street; I respect my children, and they respect me—this is non-negotiable.
In my mid-30s, the desire to become a nurse called to me, but life took a different path. Nevertheless, my “magic kisses” and character Band-Aids work wonders on little scrapes. I could never be a teacher, but I have profound admiration for those who educate our children.
My schedule doesn’t permit me to coach sports, but I’ll always be their loudest supporter. I cheer just as hard for other kids too. Although I sometimes wish I were a stay-at-home mom, my daily office routine helps maintain my sanity.
I am a storyteller, a booger wiper, a spider exterminator, a toy locator, a party organizer, a peacemaker, a dream interpreter, a homework guide, and a psychologist. My payment comes in kisses, and it’s worth every moment! While my kids spend a bit too much time on their iPads, and I find myself glued to my phone, we all recognize the need for improvement in that area.
Sometimes, I am that mom. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine because we’ve all been that mom at one point or another—even if we don’t always realize it. I am thankful. I am fortunate. I am a mother.
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In summary, being a mother is a blend of gratitude, challenges, and unconditional love. We navigate imperfectly through parenting while embracing both the joys and frustrations that come with it.