I’m that mom who lays in bed praying to God for the strength to get up.
I’m that mom who finds out school is closed right after we get in the car.
I’m that mom who buys pre-made peanut butter and jellies. Who pretends that breakfast for dinner is exciting. Who doesn’t roll on the floor, who doesn’t follow a schedule, who almost never has a plan, and who shows up a few minutes late to most events and apologizes as I shuffle to the back.
I’m far from the perfect mom. I juggle a million different plates at once and so far the only thing that feels like it may be breaking is me.
I’m that mom who tells you every single night before you fall asleep something you did that I’m proud of. I’m that mom who sets an alarm for 2am to collect teeth for the tooth fairy. Who hasn’t shopped for herself in years because God knows my kids come first. I’m that mom who lets you in my bed, who buys Valentines for the whole class so that you can give one to the boy you like.
I’m that mom who talks you down, builds you up, and prays while you’re asleep.
I’m not the Pinterest mom, or the Instagram mom, or the omelettes before school mom.
But I’m the mom who will leave work at the first dial of a bellyache. I’m the mom who does her best, even on her worst days.
I’m that mom.