Way before I had kids, I knew what kind of mom I wanted to be. I envisioned a perfectly clean home, with soft strains of classical music drifting through the air as I donned an apron and a warm smile. I imagined our family gathered around the dinner table, happily chatting about our days, voluntarily hugging each other in moments of spontaneous affection. I saw myself effortlessly guiding my children through life’s little challenges, nurturing their minds and hearts with patience and grace.
When my kids were little, life was a constant blur of diapers, sleepless nights, adjusting to school schedules, and teaching them how to ride a bike or make friends. Back then, I was exhausted, putting out fires left and right. There was no room even to breathe, let alone to create a beautiful home and perfect life. But I held onto that vision, believing that someday, when things settled, I would become that mom—the one I had always known I was meant to be.
Now, here I am with a 16-year-old and an 18-year-old. There are no more somedays. And I am about as far away from that vision as I could possibly be.
We never did get around to renovating the kids’ bathroom. We don’t have any shared family hobbies. I do wear an apron sometimes, but only if I’m out of dish towels—and nobody notices because they’re all too busy with their friends, sports, and school. The only classical music I play is for the dog.
Instead of that idyllic mom, over the years I have been:
The working mom who looked disheveled at work after waking up five times in the night to hold a crying baby with an ear infection.
The mom who never wore the cute outfits because she came in scrubs on her lunch break, but who showed up anyway to cheer for the second-place winner of the science fair.
The mom who had to tell her innocent children about some of the horrors of the world so they would learn how to keep themselves safe.
The mom who awkwardly strapped on ice skates for the first time in 25 years because the most adorable boy in the world needed a steady hand as he took his first lap around the rink.
The mom who could never keep all the bills and house paperwork in order, but made sure to tape her daughter’s star essay to the refrigerator.
The mom who drove to the ER in the middle of the night with the love of her life wheezing in her arms.
The mom with messy hair who paid for her newly teenage daughter to get way-too-expensive highlights for her birthday gift.
The mom who stayed up all night, glued to Life360, waiting for the notification that her young adult daughter made it safely to her best friend’s house for the night.
I am not the mom I thought I would be. But I have been the mom they needed me to be at each stage of their lives.
And she was so much more than I could have ever dreamed.
by Danetta Powell 
by Mikala Albertson 
by Whitney Fleming 
