I'm not the mom I imagined. I'm not always calm, or patient, or perfectly put together. I'm the mom who loses her cool. Who cries in the shower when the day feels too heavy. Who wonders if she's doing any of this right. But I'm also the mom who shows up even when she's tired. Who kisses scraped knees and wipes away tears. Who stays up through fevers and loves so deeply it aches. They don't see the flaws I pick apart in my mind. They don't see the guilt or the doubt that keeps me awake. They just see their mom. Their comfort. Their home. And maybe I'm not the mom I pictured in my head... but I'm exactly the mom they need.