No Mom, You Are Not Enough

No Mom, You Are Not Enough


This one is for the wipers of runny noses…

For the sculptors of Play-Doh creatures,

the clippers of teeny tiny fingernails.

For the chefs of vegetables that go uneaten, the makers of countless PBJs,

the T-ball cheerers and team snack preppers.

For the answerers of questions mundane and philosophical,

the dramatic readers of dinosaur stories and princess tales.

For the dryers of tears and the kissers of boo-boos,

the masters of afternoon dance parties.

For the keepers of secrets and the encouragers of lofty dreams,

the puddle-jumping partners, tea party attendees and the architects of elaborate lego creations.

For the lullaby singers and silly face makers,

the chauffeurs of gymnasts and ball players, swimmers and scouts.

For the folders of laundry mountains and the cleaners of muddy footprints,

the science project consultants and homework helpers.

We are all these things, but every day we question whether we are enough. We want to be all the moms – the crafty mom, the gourmet mom, the stylish mom, the organized mom, the fit mom.

Sometimes we are.

And sometimes we show up to Pre-K dropoff in hoodies crusted in baby food.

Sometimes we shove a hot dog in our kid’s lap as we rush to practice.

Sometimes we’re in the kitchen cutting cheese cubes for the class Halloween party 5 minutes after we were supposed to have left the house.

Most days we go to bed thinking about all the things left undone, questioning half the decisions we made, and wishing we hadn’t raised our voice so many times. We wonder where the line is between firm mom and mean mom, and whether we’ve landed on the right side.

We wonder if we are enough.

No Mama, you are not enough. You are so much more than enough.

You are your little one’s world. You are their everything.

Some days your snuggles are the only thing that soothes. You are the legs they hide behind when they’re feeling shy, the voice that assures them that everything really is going to be okay. In the embrace of your arms, they are home.

Motherhood is beautiful and brutal and magical and relentless. The worry is constant and the acknowledgement is rare. We get no raises or year-end bonuses. We’re paid in I love you’s and sticky kisses. The world judges every parenting choice we make, and we do the same to ourselves.

Some moments are amazing, many ordinary, and some are dark and full of doubt. In those low moments, don’t ever forget:

You are enough. You are everything.


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