It’s still somewhat hazy to remember when it all started. After being in my own bubbled bliss of my new life as a Mommy, I began to notice her. She was that mom.

Her hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail that flowed down ever so beautifully. No grease. No tangles.

At her child’s birthday party she pulled out a cake she had made. It was breathtaking. I cringed as she cut through that Pinterest-worthy masterpiece.

Her clothes were of the ultimate cuteness. Her daughter’s too. Their style was always so stunning.

She set up camp at the park near me once. Her bag was prepared for every scenario that could possibly arise.

I saw her jogging effortlessly while pushing a stroller of little one’s. Her posture just exuded confidence with every stride.

She quilted. She made blankets that intertwined both beauty and comfort for her sweet baby.

I could go on forever about that Mom. She was everything that I wasn’t.

I could go on forever about that Mom. She was everything that I wasn’t. She had talents and ambitions that I was in absolute awe of. Sadly, I felt the insecurity form within. How come I’m not that Mom?

Failure was met with each embraced attempt. I couldn’t put french braids in my daughter’s hair. My crafting skills were lacking in a major way. I was not hitting the daily 5-food group quota in my children’s diet. Impatience and drudgery seemed to encompass each experiment. Then it was finally figured out.

I’m not that mom. I’m this mom.

I’m the mom that decides to take my kids to the lake last minute because I know I can fall back on my stapled macaroni and cheese for supper. I’m the mom that ropes, rides, and lets her kiddos play in arena dirt. I’m the mom that writes poems for them in celebration of their 1^st birthday…

I’m not that mom that I see in others. And you shouldn’t be that mom either. You be the you-est mom you can be. Because ultimately, that is what your child needs and craves the most. You.