I Don’t Care What You Think, ‘Mom’ Is a Verb

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Lint. Bits of tissue. Dried, brown leaves. All day long, I find myself collecting random items and stuffing them into my pockets. Crumbs, wrappers, twisty ties, and even tiny plastic bears make their way into my stash. A scrap of paper, miniature doll shoes, grass—it all goes in.

I promise, I’m not losing my mind. I’m not a hoarder, a compulsive cleaner, or a collector of anything specific. I’m simply a mom.

To be precise, I’m the mother of a curious 1-year-old boy who explores everything by tasting it and a 3-year-old girl who has more little toys than I ever imagined—especially now that her brother is around. My day revolves around gathering these items, often having to fish them out of my son’s mouth first, before they find a new home in my pocket. The trash can is conveniently located in the kitchen, but this method just seems easier.

At the end of each day, I empty my pockets, and what I find serves as a testament to the mundane yet crucial aspects of motherhood. Because let’s face it: “mom” should be a verb, right? Then, when someone asks about my day, I could simply reply, “I mom-ed all day.”

Ah, that’s understandable. You’re worn out, a bit overwhelmed, yet also filled with joy. You’re worrying about whether your brain is atrophying while simultaneously marveling at the lives you’re nurturing. Days filled with mom-ing can make you feel conflicted: empty yet full, never alone but still lonely, bored yet thankful for your chaotic, beautiful life.

I’ve never shied away from admitting that I eagerly anticipate the two days each week when I work. The contrast is refreshing. Those days allow me to pee when I need to, check off to-do list items in a straight line, and enjoy the luxury of a tidy space. I feel accomplished, engage in adult conversations, focus on my writing, and—best of all—my pockets are empty.

But I’m still mom-ing, which is what makes it amusing. I can’t stop being a mom, even when I’m at work. I miss my kids and long to envelop them in a big hug. The truth is that once you become a mom, that role is with you, always. There are no breaks, no shortcuts, and every mom with older kids will remind you how fleeting this stage is, urging you to savor every moment—even when it feels like all you can collect is lint and doll shoes.

I’ve come to understand that all of this matters. Being present and approaching each day with purpose can change everything. Last year, I often found myself looking up to realize it was noon without a clue about where the morning had gone. I couldn’t entirely blame myself for the postpartum fog, but I disliked the disconnect between my thoughts and actions. I was there, being mom, yet felt distant or preoccupied with my ever-growing to-do list.

I will never give the cliché advice to “enjoy every moment” because let’s be real. Not every moment is enjoyable—like when I spend 20 minutes chopping veggies, only to see dinner end up on the floor, or when bedtime feels like a war zone, or those endless nights of being awake at 2 a.m. But I do advocate for finding the meaningful moments and living your motherhood with intention. Today, I won’t stress over my to-do list. This afternoon, I’ll leave my phone in another room to avoid mindless scrolling, and tonight I’m treating myself to a pedicure and a glass of wine because, yes, I’m still the woman I used to be.

When you commit to truly living your life, a curious thing happens. You remain the collector of lint and the doer of laundry, but you also become the architect of your days and your children’s lives. You can shape each day by embracing your role as the creator of their experiences—and your own.

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In summary, motherhood is a complex tapestry woven with moments of joy, chaos, and profound love that demand our presence and intention.