Dear Mom,
I see you. I see you juggling the chaos of motherhood, whether it’s haggling with your kids in the grocery store, zoning out at the park, or showing up at drop-off in yesterday’s sweats. I’ve witnessed the moments when you plead with your little ones, offer them bribes, or even threaten them. I’ve seen you engage in heated discussions with your partner, your mother, or even a bewildered police officer directing traffic.
I’ve watched you run around, getting your hands dirty, and sometimes letting out a curse when you stub your toe. I’ve noticed you sharing a milkshake with a spirited four-year-old, wiping your child’s nose with your hand, and then using your jeans as a makeshift tissue. I’ve seen you chase after a rolling ball, your toddler draped over your arm.
I know the frustration in your eyes when your child refuses to practice piano or soccer, and I’ve seen you take deep breaths when a gallon of milk spills in your trunk. I’ve even caught you crying into the sink while scrubbing crayon marks off a beloved purse, or pacing anxiously in front of your house.
I recognize your tired and worried demeanor in hospital waiting rooms and pharmacy lines. You are a familiar sight.
I don’t know if you always envisioned being a mom or if it came as a surprise. Perhaps you had dreams of motherhood, or maybe it was a path you stumbled upon. I wonder if motherhood has met your expectations or if, in those early days, you feared you’d never feel what you imagined “motherly love” to be. I don’t know if you faced challenges like infertility or pregnancy loss, or if you welcomed your child into your life in a joyful way.
But here’s what I do know: you didn’t receive everything you envisioned. Instead, you were gifted with countless surprises you never anticipated. I can see that you often doubt your abilities, thinking you could always do better, but the truth is you are doing better than you realize.
When you gaze at your children, you see reflections of yourself, and yet, at times, you feel like a stranger to them, wondering why the little things from your childhood seem burdensome to them.
I know there are moments when you wish to hurl a lamp at your teenager, or sometimes even consider tossing your three-year-old out the window.
At night, when the house is finally quiet, you might curl up in bed and cry, or you might hold it together, even when you’re emotionally drained and expectations feel heavy. Some days, you wish they would just end, but then bedtime comes, and your kids shower you with love, making you wish the day could stretch on forever.
Yet, the day always concludes, bringing a new dawn filled with fresh trials: fevers, heartbreaks, art projects, new friendships, new pets, and the inevitable disagreements. And through it all, you handle your responsibilities. You cook meals, tackle work tasks, dig in the garden, or strap the baby onto your back to vacuum.
You’ll drop everything to resolve disputes over marker usage, to comfort a scraped knee, or to discuss the important matters of what color lipstick a cartoon character wears.
You share tickle fights in blanket forts and have memorized the words to countless picture books. I’ve heard you dance like there’s no tomorrow when it’s just you and your children. You embrace silly moments, crafting goofy songs about peas and potatoes with no shame.
I know that sometimes, even an hour past bedtime, you’ll pause to trim your child’s fingernails when they insist it’s the reason they can’t sleep. You’ll abandon the dishes for an impromptu tea party. And yes, I know you fed your kids peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for days when you were feeling under the weather.
You probably didn’t expect any of this: the overwhelming love, the self-image struggles post-baby, the exhaustion, or the unexpected version of yourself that has emerged as a mother. You thought you had it all figured out, or perhaps you were simply terrified and blind to the path ahead.
You may have hired the perfect nanny, or perhaps you chose to stay home and mastered the art of assembling baby furniture. You sometimes feel like nothing has changed since those carefree days of your pre-parent life, and you might look back at your choices like an imposter has taken over your identity.
You are not a perfect mother. No matter your efforts, perfection will elude you. And maybe that haunts you; maybe you’ve made peace with it, or maybe it was never a concern for you at all.
Regardless of how much you accomplish, there will always be more to do. But remember, even on your worst days, your children feel loved. They still gaze at you with admiration, believing you possess the magic to mend nearly everything. No matter what challenges arise at work, school, or playdates, you have done everything in your power to ensure that the next day brings happiness, health, and wisdom for your little ones.
There’s a saying: “There is one perfect child in the world, and every mother has that child.” Unfortunately, perfect parents do not exist. Your children will undoubtedly grow up vowing to do things differently from you; they may decide against piano lessons or take a more lenient or strict approach to parenting.
But here’s the truth: you are better than you think. One day, when your kids are running amok, someone will approach you to compliment your beautiful family. You might find yourself at the park, with your kids smeared in mud and jam, and a pregnant woman will glance over at you with a wistful smile.
No matter the doubts swirling in your mind, doubt this one thing: you are not perfect.
And that’s perfectly fine because neither is your child. It means that nobody else can nurture them quite like you can, armed with your unique understanding and experiences. After all, nobody knows what your child’s wails, laughter, or tears truly signify better than you do.
In a world where no mother is flawless, you’re tied for the title of Best Mom in the World. Congratulations, Best Mom. You may not be perfect, but you’re as good as it gets.
With love,
Me
P.S. If you’re interested in exploring options for home insemination, check out this at-home intracervical insemination syringe kit and learn more about your options by visiting BabyMaker. For additional information on pregnancy and home insemination, this resource from Healthline is invaluable.
Summary
This heartfelt message acknowledges the struggles and triumphs of motherhood, celebrating the imperfect yet profound bond between a mother and her children. It reassures mothers that while they may not be perfect, they are doing better than they think and are uniquely equipped to care for their children.
Keyphrase
imperfect motherhood
Tags
[“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]