Life is not perfect. There are days when I feel like my best is not ever enough. If I was a better mom… if I was more patient and less hurried… more calm and less stressed… and more this and less that. It can be exhausting to try and be the perfect mom and feel like it’s not ever really good enough. Feeling like your child deserves more of you. The part of you which is calm and unhurried. The untired mom. The mom who is forever patient and never yells. The mom who can always be there, and doesn’t have to juggle work commitments, and makes every school play, concert and field trip…

These last few years have flown by, and my girls are no longer babies. There are no longer little children. They are growing up so fast and I’m racing to keep up. Working and juggling and definitely not being anywhere near perfect. Just trying to keep up. I sometimes feel like I’m running a marathon (without the actual running part) and they are never slowing down. I cry just thinking about how fast they are growing up and how 11 will no longer want to hold my hand, and 13 will stop asking me to help her with her hair… and how one day they will be ready to run on their own and then (well, lots more tears)…

As I watched 11 napping on the train today I saw a beautiful soul. She doesn’t care if I’m stressed or tired or overweight. She just sees me. Her mom. And I realized in that moment I will never be the perfect mom. There is no perfect. But there are perfect moments. And there is being there. And maybe I need to try and breath more and enjoy this journey, and not think about how fast everything is going by…

I may not make it to every school event, or be able to chaperone field trips like I used to… but I know I will always be there for them. Every minute of every day. To love them and fiercely protect them. Sometimes calm, sometimes exhausted, but always there.

I treasure days like today, when I spend the entire day with one or both of the girls. Today was with 11, shuttling her back and forth to the city for rehearsals.  As we ran through Grand Central Station to try and make the 6:02pm train, we held hands and ran faster as we neared the doors. We made it with a minute to spare, and when we finally found seats and settled in, she immediately asked for my phone and spent almost the entire ride teaching me the “dos” and “don’ts” of making a musically. (Her favorite pastime these days. )

At the end of the night, as we walked through the train station garage towards our car, I asked her if she was tired. I am little, said, as she grabbed for my hand. Then said, Thank you mom. For what? I asked.

For taking me today. And just for being my mom.

Life is not perfect. Motherhood is far from perfect. But there perfect moments. ❤️