Today, I woke up with the intention of being the best mom I could be. With my demanding work schedule, my little boy often gets the leftovers of my energy, which typically ranks my parenting efforts at a solid negative six on the mom scale. But today was different. Today was our special day.
We dressed up and set off to McKinney for a car show, followed by a trip to the petting zoo. He absolutely loved it—though I had to lug around his 35-pound frame in my decidedly un-toned arms. Still, it felt like a win. Tomorrow, I might just wake up with biceps the size of tree trunks!
After our fun outing, we headed back to Denison. He took a nap, and I was riding the high of my parenting success. I figured it was the perfect time to take him to The District in Durant, an expansive arcade for kids. How awesome would that be?
As we were about to leave for our “date night,” I momentarily turned to lock the door. In the middle of expressing my pride in my mothering today (which I haven’t felt in ages), my son, Noah, decided he could suddenly fly. Just as I was thinking, “You’re doing great, mama!” everything went downhill—“You’re killing it today, little mama, you go gir—… oh no!” I turned just in time to see him dive headfirst down six steps, landing straight on the concrete. Just great.
With six years in the medical field under my belt, I’ve seen my fair share of injuries. But when it’s your own child? All that knowledge vanishes, and I become a panicked mess. Thankfully, he wasn’t crying too much—just screaming like he was auditioning for a horror movie.
Knowing the protocol after a head injury, I realized I needed to keep him awake for a couple of hours. So off we went to the arcade, hoping to distract him from his pain. It was a terrible idea. Noah was clearly in distress—between the headache, the terrible twos, and the chaotic crowd that resembled a scene from a zombie film, it was overwhelming. People shot me judgmental looks, their eyes practically asking, “What on Earth happened to that poor kid?”
Fast forward through three hours, one lousy prize (spending $40 on tokens only to come home with a single Tootsie Roll), and countless questions about his injury, and we finally returned home. Noah fell asleep in the back seat while I savored a rare moment of silence—something I cherish as much as finding a four-leaf clover.
Although I felt like a subpar mom today, Noah sees me differently. He thinks I hung the moon, and he’s quite good at pretending to kiss his boo-boo, instantly acting as if everything is just fine. I know he’s hurting—he just launched himself onto concrete, after all. Yet, he prioritizes my feelings over his own discomfort. How remarkable is that?
Parenting can be a test of energy and strength. Some days, you pour every ounce of effort into being a super mom, while other days, despite your best intentions, you feel like a complete failure. Yet, every day, your child’s love remains unwavering.
So here’s to all the mothers striving to provide their kids with the best childhood possible, even amidst chaos. Here’s to those who spend hours cooking, only to have their toddlers reject the food. Here’s to the relentless cycle of laundry, the wet towels left behind, and the dishes that pile up until they can no longer fit in the sink. Here’s to kissing the boo-boos, knowing we could have prevented the mishaps if only we were just a bit quicker or more attentive.
Here’s to facing criticism from those who have never walked in our shoes and realizing that no negative remark can outweigh our internal battles. Here’s to the exhaustion, the stress, and the messy moments that are more than worth it for the love we receive.
Here’s to never finding those elusive four-leaf clovers until we become parents.
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In summary, motherhood is a journey filled with ups and downs, yet the love from our children makes every moment worth it.