I Am Not the Best Mom


best mom

I am used to being the best. Or at least always striving for it! I was a straight-A student, a high-level gymnast, and a world-class acrobat. Give me a goal and I’ll find a way to reach it. Six years ago, I finally decided I was ready to tackle my biggest goal, one I had been dreaming of ever since I can remember: becoming a mom. And I was going to be the best mom in the world.

And I was! My first baby slept, he barely fussed, he was sweet and kind and so, obviously, that meant I was the best mom.

Goal accomplished.

We decided to have another—how much harder could that be? Enter Baby #2. He wouldn’t sleep, he barfed on everything, he cried all the time, all while my toddler started learning how to scream, say no, and hit. Obviously, this was also a reflection of my parenting. And I was failing. I was no longer the best mom.

So there I was with two kids and a husband who worked nights and no idea how to become the best. Because that’s the goal, right?!

So I spiraled.

I threw myself into work because I knew how to be the best at that. I felt like a failure all the time when I was with my family and the way I spoke to myself was outright abusive. For this successful Type A person, motherhood was not panning out.

I have strong opinions and I am a harsh critic. I hold myself to an exceptionally high standard and I have a tendency to do the same with the people in my life. This trait has gotten me really far in life and I use this trait now in my business to help others realize how amazing they are and what they are capable of. I love this about me. But these features DO NOT go well with #momlife.

Where I used to struggle in private, my children are now an ever-present audience to my tears and lost temper. As a mom, I have a never-ending To Do list. It can keep me working every second of every day if I let it, but unlike the work I put in for a big competition or to unveil a new trick, there is no big finish or accolades for what I do as a mom. There is no end to the hard work. There are no cheering audiences or awards to win to show how all my hard work is paying off. And there is no coach to teach me how to be the best.

So, with two years of postpartum depression behind me and some anxiety medications tucked into my purse in case I need it, I decided to become my own coach and I set new goals:

  1. Make sure my kids feel loved and supported.
  2. Ensure their safety.
  3. Treat my family with respect.
  4. Make time for my husband.
  5. Be kind to myself.

Just like learning a new trick, it’s all about adjusting the goals, making them work for me, and feeling successful. These things I can do.

Being a mom is all I ever wanted and the beauty of realizing all of this is that now it’s just up to me to enjoy it. There is no path to greatness and no achievements to unlock. I see my little hiccups as just part of my day and if I can end the day feeling like I loved more than I yelled and I hugged more than I clenched my jaw, then the day is a win.

So, when my kid is sent to the principal’s office or the toddler is screaming for 30 minutes straight because I got water on his arms when I got out of the shower to help him sit on the potty, I can still feel like a good mom. I am learning that my goal isn’t to be the best mom in the world. My kids will not always be perfect and neither will I, but I am a good mom. I am their best mom.



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