Yesterday, I found myself hiding in the bathroom, tears streaming down my face while my two little ones banged on the door demanding snacks.
“Worst mother ever,” I whispered to my reflection.
Sound familiar?
If you’re reading this while your kid watches their third episode of something educational-ish because you just need five minutes of peace, I see you.
If you gave them cereal for dinner last night because the day defeated you, I’ve been there.
And if you’re constantly wondering whether you’re screwing this whole motherhood thing up, welcome to the club.
But here’s what I’ve learned after years of questioning every parenting decision and dealing with that relentless voice telling me I’m failing: sometimes we’re so busy cataloging our mistakes that we miss all the ways we’re actually doing right by our kids.
1) You apologize when you mess up
Remember that moment when you snapped at your child over something small?
Maybe they spilled juice right after you’d cleaned the floor, or asked “why” for the hundredth time that hour.
You lost it, then felt that familiar wave of guilt wash over you.
But then what did you do?
You went back.
You knelt down, looked them in the eye, and said those powerful words: “I’m sorry. Mommy shouldn’t have yelled.”
That repair work? That’s gold.
My five-year-old recently told me, “It’s okay to make mistakes, Mama. We just say sorry and try again.”
She learned that from watching me fumble, apologize, and keep trying.
Kids don’t need perfect mothers.
They need real ones who show them how to handle being human.
2) Your kids come to you when they’re hurt
When my two-year-old falls and scrapes his knee, who does he run to? Me.
When my daughter has a nightmare, whose bed does she crawl into? Mine.
Think about that for a second.
Despite all your perceived failures, you’re still their safe place.
You’re the person they trust with their pain, their fears, their biggest feelings.
That doesn’t happen by accident.
It happens because somewhere deep down, they know you’ll catch them.
3) You worry about screen time (even while using it)
Yes, I let my kids watch TV sometimes.
On particularly rough days, probably more than I’d like to admit.
But you know what? The fact that I worry about it, that I feel that twinge of guilt, means I care about their well-being.
We’re raising kids in an age our parents couldn’t have imagined.
There’s no perfect playbook for navigating screens and technology.
But your concern about finding balance? That awareness itself is good mothering.
Progress, not perfection, right?
4) You notice the small things
Maybe you can’t always give them Pinterest-perfect activities, but you notice when your child uses a new word correctly.
You see when they share without being asked.
You catch that moment when they’re kind to their sibling.
Good mothers are observers.
We’re the keepers of our children’s small victories, even when we’re too tired to celebrate our own.
5) You keep showing up, even when you’re empty
Some days, just getting everyone fed, somewhat clean, and alive until bedtime feels like climbing Mount Everest in flip-flops.
But you do it anyway.
You show up when you’re sick.
You show up when you’re heartbroken.
You show up when you’d rather hide under the covers.
That consistency, that reliability, even when it’s imperfect?
That’s what builds secure kids.
6) Your children show emotion freely
Does your child cry when they’re sad?
Get angry when frustrated?
Come to you with their worries?
Congratulations. You’ve created a home where feelings are allowed.
I recently finished reading Rudá Iandê’s new book “Laughing in the Face of Chaos,” and one insight really struck me: “Our emotions are not barriers, but profound gateways to the soul—portals to the vast, uncharted landscapes of our inner being.”
His wisdom reminded me that when our kids feel safe enough to express their full emotional range, we’re doing something right.
7) You question yourself
Bad mothers don’t lie awake wondering if they’re bad mothers.
They don’t replay conversations, wishing they’d responded differently.
They don’t research gentle parenting techniques at midnight or text friends asking, “Is this normal?”
Your self-doubt? It’s actually evidence of how much you care.
It means you’re conscious, aware, and always trying to grow.
That questioning is what keeps you evolving as a parent.
8) You see your children as individuals
You know that one child needs extra cuddles when upset while the other needs space.
You recognize that your daughter processes things by talking them out, while your son needs to move his body.
Seeing and respecting these differences, adapting your parenting to meet each child where they are?
That’s sophisticated, attuned mothering, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
9) Your kids play independently sometimes
If your children can entertain themselves, even for short periods, you’ve given them a gift.
It means they feel secure enough to explore without you hovering.
They trust that you’ll be there when they need you.
That fort made of couch cushions?
Those sorted leaves and collections of rocks?
That’s the fruit of a child who feels safe enough to adventure, knowing their anchor (you) is steady.
10) You’re reading this
Seriously.
The fact that you’re here, seeking reassurance, looking for signs that you’re doing okay?
That search itself is evidence of a good mother.
You could be doing a million other things, but you’re investing time in reflection about your parenting.
You care enough to doubt yourself.
You love enough to want to do better.
You’re conscious enough to evaluate your own behavior.
These aren’t the marks of failure.
They’re the hallmarks of someone deeply committed to this impossible, beautiful job.
The truth about good mothers
We live in a world that profits from our insecurity, constantly showing us filtered versions of motherhood that don’t include the unwashed hair, the lost tempers, or the McDonald’s drive-through dinners.
But real motherhood? It’s messy and imperfect and full of contradictions.
Good mothers aren’t the ones who never fail.
They’re the ones who fail and keep loving anyway.
They’re the ones who show their children that humans are flawed and that’s okay.
They’re the ones who model resilience not through perfection, but through the countless small recoveries from imperfection.
So tonight, when you’re lying in bed cataloging all the ways you fell short today, try to remember this: your kids don’t need a perfect mother.
They need a present one.
They need someone who shows them it’s okay to be human, to make mistakes, to try again tomorrow.
You’re not failing.
You’re mothering.
And from where I’m sitting, hiding in my bathroom for just five more seconds of solitude while little voices call for me, I think you’re doing a pretty amazing job.
