Part of the reason I had the confidence to have a third baby was because I have witnessed other moms I admire do so with grace, hustle, and joy. Other moms make it all look possible and I need that visual reminder because there is a sisterhood within motherhood. I can always relate, even when we don’t parent the same—the love we feel for our kids is the same.
I have never understood mom-shaming as a phenomenon. To me, I am equally as inspired by those moms doing the one-armed-toddler-drag through Costco as I am when I see a Zen-Mama on the playground announcing that one more minute really did mean one more minute; because I’ve done both. I’ve been both. Whether you had a natural child birth or your toddler just took their first poop in the potty, in my book, moms everywhere deserve a daily parade.
Sometimes we feel unseen; like we are being buried behind the scenes packing lunch boxes that come back full of crusts and carrots or suddenly postpartum it is all about the baby and you feel selfish for thinking, “But I’m here too.” Other times we would prefer not to be so exposed, like when both kids announce at dinner with my in-laws, “this is disgusting” since we taught them basic table manners, but forgot about their lack of filter. I guess I should be grateful they didn’t mention the word “vagina” at the dinner table, since that’s been the topic of conversation in our household lately. Small victories, I suppose.
I will show you my missteps if you show me yours and then we can truly witness each other for what we are; imperfect. While I alone am the mother to my children, when you see me and I see you, it makes me feel like we are in this together.