This is the final post in my Happy Mother’s Day to Me series—written by yours truly. I have been inspired, humbled and and motivated by the many mamas who have contributed their stories and messages to themselves. Check out all the posts in the series, and don’t forget to wish your mom a happy Mother’s Day!
Dear Me,
Happy Mother’s Day! You will be hearing this greeting from all corners—family, relatives, friends. But I wanted to tell you again. After all, I see every moment you spend with your kids—the good ones and the ones you wish you could take back. And I’m here to say, you are a good mother.
I am that voice in your head. Not the one that whispers, “You are messing this up,” “Why can’t you get it together?” or “What’s wrong with you?” That voice if full of shit.
I may be quieter, but I am honest. I am true. I am the one you should listen to.
I am the cheerleader who is rooting for you especially on the days you think you just can’t for one more minute. I am the one giving you high fives for getting both kids out of the house before 9am, or for that killer read-aloud voice, or for simply making sure everyone is fed. I am the one telling you that you are enough.
How would I know?
Well, I see you. I see you when you persuade your overtired preschooler to brush her teeth. I see you when you catch your baby’s spit-up in your cupped hands. I see you when you kneel down to let your preschooler twist the paper dress she’s crafting around your waist. I see you when you wash the latest pooplosion off your littlest. (Seriously, how does poop get in a baby’s ear?)
I see you in the beautiful moments. You listen—really listen—to your preschooler. You delay whatever it was you were going to do just to make your baby giggle a little longer. You ignore paint splatters and grass stains and a dusting of dirt in pigtails because messiness is a sure sign of fun.
I see you in the moments you’re glad no one else is around to witness. You cried yourself hoarse but still retied shoes and kissed downy heads and wiped tushies clean. You nearly lost your mind when the dog rolled in something dead on your hike, but you didn’t let that stop you from bringing the whole gang out to the trail the next time. You sang to your screaming toddler as she got her blood drawn, and you only took a few sips of the milkshake you gave her for being brave. (You deserved a reward, too, by the way.)
I, then, am the best qualified to wish you a happy Mother’s Day.
The next time you wonder if you’re screwing up your beautiful daughters, or how you can make it through the next five minutes, tune out that judgy, cruel voice. Listen to me instead.
I am always here. I will always tell you the truth. That truth is that you are doing a good job. And I will tell you this every day of the year, not just on Mother’s Day.
So keep up the good work, Mama.
Love, Me
