It never occurred to me that when you called my name 19 times to wake up in the mornings to go to school that you were just as annoyed as I was. As I would place my pillow over my head and mutter, "Why can't you just let me sleep?", it never once crossed my mind that you might have been thinking the exact same thing.
Even after a hectic day, I remember you taking the time to cook a well-balanced meal. I never once noticed a look of exhaustion on your face. I was too busy wishing we could just order pizza instead. Ironically, that was probably what you were thinking, too.
I don't remember you stressing over never ending piles of laundry.
Or forgetting to sign a permission slip.
Or sending me to school a little disheveled looking in a mismatched outfit.
But, I'm sure there were those days. You are human. There was a time when you were new to being a mom too. There must have been many times when you were exhausted/overwhelmed/scared that you were screwing up your kids. But that's just another thing I never saw, another thing I never realized until now. And that's what gets me through on the hardest days of motherhood. The days that I think I'm setting my child up for life-long standing weekly appointment with a therapist to discuss how her mother failed her. The days when I feel like I can't handle cooking another dinner/wiping another butt/listening to another meltdown. Those terrible days when I am scared to face my daughter because I don't want her to see how tired, sad and angry I am. Those days when all I need is a hug and to talk to my mommy so she can make it all better.
Those are the days when I need to stop and realize that just because there are days when I lose confidence and doubt myself as a mother doesn't mean my children will. Kids don't notice the behind-the-scenes action the way we think they do. My kids won't see my frantic early morning rush through the grocery store to buy oranges and graham crackers. They'll just know that their mom brought snacks on snack day. They won't witness me near tears on the phone to book a replacement clown last-minute. They'll just know they had an awesome circus-themed birthday party.
Mom, I've realized that motherhood isn't always as easy as you made it seem. I am flawed and messy and insecure. And that's OK. Because even though you are a beautiful/perfect/funny/loving/superwoman mom, you are only human. Just like me.