I’m that mom.

The mom who gets up before the sun rises, to get ready for work. Who packs lunches and gets backpacks and clothes laid out. Who sneaks in and kisses her babies before she leaves for the day.

I’m that mom.

The mom who sometimes has a short fuse. Who sometimes yells over insignificant things. Who wishes she didn’t loose her temper as much.

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I’m that mom.

The mom who stops at McDonald’s for her kids. Who has good intentions of making a home cooked meal, but gets frustrated when nobody will even try it.

I’m that mom.

The mom who spends all night cleaning up, and feels guilty for not sitting with her kids. I’m also the mom who plays with her kids, and then feels guilty for having a messy house.

I’m that mom.

The mom who one day, sets an hour limit on their tablet time. I’m also the mom who let’s them play on it for three hours the next day, just so I can get things accomplished.

I’m that mom.

The mom who sits down and goes over homework with her kids. I’m also the mom who gets in trouble for not correctly helping with homework because I was cooking dinner and feeding the baby at the same time.

I’m that mom.

The mom who feels like a rockstar on Monday. I’m also the mom who feels like I’m ready to throw in the towel by Friday.

I’m that mom.

The mom who has let her baby cry it out. I’m also the mom who lets her babies crawl into her bed in the middle of the night, snuggling up with them.

I’m that mom.

The mom who formula fed. Who used disposable diapers, who didn’t make homemade baby food.

I’m that mom.

The mom who tries her hardest every single day. Who knows that she’s not perfect, but her kids think she’s pretty damn close.

I’m that mom.

The mom who is everybodys everything. The keeper of the calender, the chauffeur of the littles, the wiper of the messes, and the referre of the house.

I’m that mom.

The mom who is exhausted at the end of each day. Who wonders every night if I’ve done a good enough job. Who hopes and prays my babies will grow up knowing they are loved and protected. Who peeks in on them when they’re sleeping, even when they spent the last three hours driving me crazy.

I’m that mom.

I’m not the perfect mom, but that’s okay.

Because I’m that mom—and that’s a pretty damn good one to be.

This post originally appeared on Chronicles of Motherhood.

Cassie Hilt

Cassie is a working mother of two small kiddos. She works on maintaining the delicate balance of work/mommy/wife life, and making sure she doesn’t run out of wine before payday. She enjoys writing in her free time and chronicling the adventures of being a mom. You can follow her on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/thechroniclesofmotherhood Twitter, https://twitter.com/ChronOfMom and Instagram, https://www.instagram.com/the_chronicles_of_motherhood/ and visit her website http://www.cassiehilt.com/