Parenting
By Jamie Lynn Carter
Updated: August 21, 2015
Originally Published: April 26, 2015
Recently, I found myself navigating through heavy snowfall, clutching a pair of worn-out, nearly hole-in-the-knee blue snow pants for my 9-year-old son, Thomas. As we were leaving for school, the snow began to fall, and as we approached the drop-off line—ah, the joys of that line!—he exclaimed, “Mom! I forgot my snow pants!” Naturally, he didn’t have them.
I offered to run home and grab them, but he shook his head and muttered, “It’s fine, Mom. I don’t need to go outside.” So, I headed back home. I stayed for about 92 minutes before the snowflakes piled up so thickly that I decided to fetch those essential snow pants and brave the unplowed roads covered in four inches of snow. After all, playing outside in the snow is practically a rite of passage.
Upon entering the school office, I handed over the snow pants, and one of the staff asked, “What did your kid forget this time?” I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Isn’t this what we moms do?” And truly, it is.
Every day can feel like a repetitive cycle filled with meticulous tasks: tucking bedsheets, washing laundry, and sorting through clothes our kids hastily tossed into the wash. We scrub crayon marks from the dryer, clean up muddy footprints, and organize toys. We print pictures for school projects, conduct science experiments, and listen to our fifth grader recount tales from his locker.
We rock our little ones to sleep, hold their tiny hands, prepare meals, pack lunches, slice oranges, and provide snacks. We drive them to school and back, help them brush their teeth, and read the same bedtime stories night after night. We teach them to tie their shoes, spread peanut butter on bread, and embrace independence.
By the end of the day, if you’re anything like me, you might find yourself wondering, “What on earth did I do all day?” We often seek those monumental moments—the weekend I went on a painting spree or family outings to Legoland. In focusing on the grand events, we can overlook the simple, yet profound, everyday moments, like trekking to school with snow pants.
Believe me, you have those moments, countless ones! They may not be extraordinary, but they form the fabric of motherhood. These are the unseen acts, the ones that often go unacknowledged. There are no awards for staying up all night with a child suffering from an earache (I just experienced this, by the way). No recognition for coaxing a squirmy 7-year-old into stillness for ear drops or for fighting for your child’s needs in a doctor’s office.
What about the times you spent an extra five minutes coloring with them? Or the laughter shared during a spontaneous dance in the living room? Or the many trips to school, with coats zipped and hats secured, filled with sweet moments?
Then, there are the battles—the standoffs with a 3-year-old who refuses to get dressed, the repeated meal preparations, and the times you had to confiscate electronics due to disrespectful behavior, turning the day into a tug-of-war. The spilled juice and the mess of macaroni and cheese are just part of the journey.
And through it all, even when exhaustion sets in, you press on. Don’t underestimate the strength it takes to be a tired mom who simply mothers.
It’s easy to question your daily accomplishments and measure success by the number of tasks crossed off your to-do list. But remember: that list is just a guide, not a report card. Checking off every item doesn’t make you a better mom; it simply shows you completed those tasks.
Real life unfolds in the unstructured moments of our days. It happens while waiting for your middle schooler to be picked up, sharing a laugh over something funny they saw on YouTube. Those relationships, that strength of motherhood, occur in the little things. You accomplish far more than you realize.
So, the next time you wonder, “What did I do all day?” reflect on those small moments. Don’t dismiss your daily story; it’s filled with beauty and significance. If anyone asks what you did all day, take a moment to recall those little acts. Write them down, cherish them, and allow yourself to feel proud. You are changing lives with the ordinary days that often feel like nothing.
Because you didn’t do nothing. You mothered.