It is well after midnight and I am trying to squeeze the last few precious alone moments out of the day. It has been a long, exhausting, trying day and I’m wiped. All of a sudden I get a notification on my phone that there is motion in Brooke’s room. I open the app in time to realize she’s still in bed, slightly disoriented and calling for mama. I’ve heard this all day long. But something about that late night mom call just pulls on my heartstrings. She doesn’t need anything major. Just wants me to sit next to her bed while she fake sleeps her way back to a real sleep. We are still adjusting to the big girl bed and the concept of staying in her room all night long isn’t her favorite idea.

As I sit there watching her fight the sleep she so desperately needs, that familiar parenting phrase comes back, yet again... “someday you’ll miss this” and maybe it is the exhaustion, but tears spring to my eyes. I hope I never forget these moments. I hope my kids always feel my love and that they know without a doubt I am here for them. Always. I mean at the end of the day that is all us mom’s want anyway. Our kids to grow up knowing they are fiercely protected and always have someone in their corner no matter where life takes them.

But man if the days, weeks and months don’t kick your butt. With a 4 year old, 2 year old and 5 month old I’m stretched thin trying to give them all the attention they deserve. Between my mom guilt and the overall anxiety that plagues my life, I am forever struggling with the notion that I am enough for these kids. That I am just what they need, as my regular ole self.


Just after getting the girls to sleep (the first time) I sent a flurry of texts off to my biggest supporter, my own mother. As per the norm, she righted all the made up woes in my mind and reminded me that I am doing a good job. I’m raising smart, beautiful, respectful kids who know their mother loves them deeply. Every now and again that reminder is necessary to get through the next long day of sibling arguments, five thousand “moms” and 18 hundred requests for snacks.

I watch the fingers start to twitch,  is it sleep that has overcome her? Or is she trying to keep herself awake to spend another few minutes with just mama, her biggest fan?  I’ve got nothing but time. Someday I will miss this and I want her to remember that mama sat there, well into the night, and made sure she found her dreams again.