Real Mom. Superhero in Disguise.

It's not even eight in the morning and the craziness has begun.

He called me a bully.

Everyone is too loud.

I don't want to wear that shirt.

Leave me alone.

Can I play the ipod right now? (when the rule forever has been no media until 2:30)

I'm hungry but I don't want that cereal. 

He's looking at me. (yes, for real)

Then there's the kitchen. Dishes waiting to be put away that were supposed to be put away last night and a counter with mail on it waiting to be sorted next to apples with two bites out of them. Or the laundry or vacuuming or the still waiting summer clothes to be sorted and stored and the large oversized Rubbermaid tubs from Target with winter clothes still waiting to make their way upstairs or there's that list that is just full of things that were on the list to complete yesterday.

Then there is the holidays. So that adds just a bit of pressure. Let me take that back - it adds pressure.  I have heard but they have their tree already at least twice an hour for the last three days.  I look at my purchasing of gifts for this year and I humbly realize that I have not purchased even one. (Want to know what I think about Christmas? Read 25 Things I Want My Kids to Know.) 

It can make me wish for three cups of coffee by 8:30 in the morning.  Sometimes I wish I was like Mrs. Incredible from The Incredibles - with the ability to sit at the table at hold a conversation and keep everything under control and smile at those little kids of hers who are racing around the table. But, well, truthfully, I'm not. I'm often wishing for Starbucks to deliver and that I had crazy patience, but I'm really wondering how in the world I'm going to make it to 8:45 am. 

I don't really want to be the mom that is overwhelmed or tired by nine.

But, it's easy to let that happen or to feel that way. 

I know you probably feel this way too - you're looking at your life and wondering why caked on macaroni and cheese in a bowl that should have been rinsed yesterday but now is sitting on your counter waiting for you makes you so frustrated. Or why every single time they go outside they have to dump out the bucket of gloves and that there never seems to be a matching pair. I mean, seriously, that wasn't in the What to Expect When You're Expecting Books. I don't think anyone ever told me that sometimes there would be days where every single member of the family woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And let me tell you - that's a talent - because almost everyone's beds are against the walls. I don't think they told me that children can fight over the silliest little things and that you will spend your time trying to decide what is fair or whose turn it is or trying to decide if someone really looked at the other one and gave a mean look. 

Motherhood is often this treading water, dealing with throw up (or trying to avoid it with massive handwashing and hand sanitizer scrubs for all of winter), negotiating over whose turn it is to use the ipod, rushing out late to work or soccer or where ever, days full of the same old thing. It's full of days of answering questions, sweeping the floor again and again and again, racing through Target for just a few things and getting to the back of the store with a full cart and the potty training child all of a sudden who needs to use the bathroom immediately.  It's full of helping with homework and wondering why in the world those math facts aren't sticking in your 9 year old's head,  working hard for your kids at home or at work or volunteering, and all sorts of crazy normal motherhood things. 

It's also normal to sit in the living room and wonder what in the world am I doing right now and why is the three year old out negotiating me with regards to tshirt choice? 

Moms aren't made to be superheroes. 

Moms are real.

And honestly, being real might be the coolest and most powerful superhero there can ever be. 

Moms are like superheroes in disguise.

Think about this: 

You have the ability to negotiate and deal with two children who have both decided that they are right and you come up with a solution that would make Solomon jealous. You can get kids into the van, strap them in, and still make it to class only three minutes late. Or early on good days. You know exactly how to wipe faces, wipe counters, and wipe down tables that have remnants of spilled milk and hot chocolate spilled there from kids who just weren't neat. Or who were arguing because their sibling was sitting a little bit too close and that led to bumping of each other which led to hot chocolate on the table.

You can look through a basket full of laundry and immediately find the clothes that are needed after your ten year old has informed you that those clothes aren't anywhere to be found. You can handle multiple questions, negotiations over bedtime, laundry timers beeping, laundry piles that block the doorway, knocks at the door, emails overflowing, paper and homework stacks, answers to why, why not, it's not fair, how come, when, and I don't want to. 

And you don't just do this once. You do this, you handle this, you deal with this every single day.

You may feel overwhelmed, tired, or that you can't do this. But the truth is - you are strong. You are amazing, powerful, a warrior of a woman, in the every day normal.

I know, us mothers have had to do this forever, this motherhood thing. But, just because we have had to do this doesn't mean that it's easy or not to be celebrated. Do you know why? Because for you and me and the mom next door and the mom ordering the triple espresso in Starbucks and the mom in Target with the kids throwing a tantrum on the floor or the the mom who doesn't have Christmas presents yet and doesn't know how she's going to get them or the mom whoever - well, for all of us, even though motherhood has always been around for us it's new.

Motherhood is a new journey for every single mom.

You and I and all of us have had to learn how to be brave, how to fight, how to deal with kids who grab cereal with the cover open and spill it everywhere, how to stand up for ourselves, how to negotiate, how to manage a home, how to not compare and just live,  how to deal with the same question which has the same answer a million times infinity times a day, and all of that.

You've had to learn it all. One day, one step, one morning, one negotiating afternoon, one moment after a time. You've had to learn how to mother in a world of expectations, should have's, could be doings, facebook status updates, and sometimes a celebration of perfection when honestly we need to just celebrate being real.

You are a superhero called a mom.

You maybe feel like you can't handle all of this. But, you can. You'll pull up the bootstraps of motherhood and you'll keep going. And you will not be perfect. But, you will be the best you that you can be. And that you, that mother, will make mistakes, but will give yourself grace, and will learn and move on and fight for your kids.

So today, today when you say no yelling or go to your room or look at a kitchen that was clean 15 minutes ago that now looks like you never clean and all of that remember that you are doing amazing things. You are the one who at the end of your days can look at those little people who are now adults and you will remember how did it and you will see that you were amazing. 

Breathe. Breathe deep. Step back. See all you do everyday. 

You are awesome. 

For real. You superhero called mom in disguise.
(and if any of you has the magic answer for the keeping of things fair let me know....)

******

Looking for a calendar for 2014? I've put together a calendar that celebrates motherhood, the bravery within, and the awesome simplicity in the everyday. It's full of images from my site along with some of the most requested phrases and quotes - being a mom is enough, brave mother, and little things matter. #momsrule

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Today's photos? All real life live from the instagram feed. Find me there at finding_joy
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

why motherhood is not a competition

Do you feel it?

This crazy measuring up pressure on mothers? On you? Right now in the midst of motherhood? In the midst of a life of mothering and caring for children? This unwritten rule of what perfect motherhood should look like? Be like?

And does it make you tired like it makes me?

When I  am blessed to speak face to face with moms (like I was blessed to do in Florida where I spoke this weekend) almost every time during our conversation we end up talking about the ridiculous pressure, this unwritten competition, that could/can/may/does exist between mothers. Eyes would well with tears as we'd talk about motherhood and this feeling of being out-of-breath and trying to do our best and yet feeling overwhelmed and alone in this journey where support and friendship is most needed.

There is not one perfect motherhood choice out there.

There is not a manual on how to have the perfect motherhood life and children and house. Yet, there is often this crazy unspoken about competitive world of motherhood out there where we as mothers could feel like the measuring bar of what one needs to do is so high and unattainable and we'll never reach the top.

Do you know what I believe you and I need to remember?

This.

Moms don't need to one-up each other. Moms need to embrace each other.

When we compete we lose seeing the heart of the person sitting in the room with us.

We need to learn to love each other in the midst of lives that may look different than our own. To extend a hand to another and to accept help from another. To be real with where they are and to work together to get better. To not judge one's present based on the present of another. To know that our kids aren't our measuring stick of motherhood success. To know that there are many many many different choices that we make and that the choices don't define the perfect mother.

We could get stuck thinking that there is only one way to do motherhood. Then we're back into comparing - working versus not working versus staying at home versus part time. Comparing medical choices - vaccines versus no vaccines or breast feeding versus bottle feeding. Education choices, sports choices, extracurricular choices, parenting choices,  housing choices, and on and on and on.

And then? Then beyond the big life choices there are the pressures. The pins, the trips, the crafts, the projects, the not caring about doing those things, the cars, the houses, the decorating, the extra-curricular activities, this and that and a world full of millions of things to do that can clutter our brains so that we miss seeing the important.

Those things don't define mothers.

They don't define you.

You.

You might have to work and don't want to work  and realize that it's the best choice for you and your family  but you get yourself out of bed every single morning and you love on your kids and you work. You are a good mom. 

You might want to work and love working and realize that it's the best choice for you and your family and you get out of bed every single morning and you love on your kids and you work. You are a good mom.

You might stay home with your kids and you realize it's the best choice for you and your family and your get out of bed every single morning and you love on your kids and you stay at home and work. You are a good mom.

Listen to me. You and I could list every single choice that we're presented with as moms - all of those things that often get debated and cause such animosity between people and at the end of the day and the end of the list you and I would still need to put at the end - you are a good mom.

Motherhood and motherhood success and beauty and the root of motherhood cannot ever be determined by those externals. We are all different. With different paths - which includes bumps in the road that push us in directions that we never ever imagined that we must work through. And yet, sweet mother, we are all women who are in the midst of the motherhood journey. It's can be easy to look at externals and forget the heart of the person, the mother, standing in the room with you.

What if the excess of information, the options to have more and do more, and the comfortableness of life was removed? What if instead of dealing with soccer camps, decorating living rooms, and which grocery store we were going to shop at we just had to all survive? You know as well as I do that the competitive measuring up parameters would be simply erased. We wouldn't care how perfect our schedule and planner looked - we'd focus on living. We'd see how valuable and important the simple giving of self motherhood things truly are in life.

I think that's the thing, the truth, that we need to remember in motherhood.

Let's look at what matters.

It's the giving of self in the midst of a period of life where you are pushed to exhaustion and yet you have to give, give, give even when it's not often reciprocated or appreicated. It's the late night rocking and singing of songs while you let the dishes wait. It's the times when you have to work simply to put food on the table. It's the moments where you gather all the courage, tenacity, and bravery that you can find and you fight for your kids and family. It's in the good mornings and I love you's and tucking in at night. It's in learning to love and to thrive in the midst of crazy busy.

All this comparing robs joy and distorts from the being enough moments and beauty of motherhood.

And often creates a culture of aloneness and feeling like one doesn't measure up.

Enough.

You are enough. (link)

You are amazing and a fighter in a world of expectations. You love on your kids. You do what is best for your kids. And your story will look different from my story from the story of the moms that I met this weekend from the moms reading this in London to the moms in New Zealand to the moms at the doctor's office and from everybody else.

You matter. You make a difference.

It is not a competition.

So your decisions, your choices, your external things that so often grade motherhood aren't a grade of success. They are simply part of your story. What if we as women decided to strip away all of those things that could make us compete and instead look at the mom, the person, the friend, the woman that is standing in preschool next to us?

Do you know what we'd find?

A mom. With her story. Real.

A mom with her own moments of bravery. A mom, just like you, living in a world where there is crazy competition. A mom with ups and downs and good times and bad times and moments where this whole motherhood thing makes her need a good cry. Or laugh. A mom whose life isn't perfect.

Underneath it all, underneath the expectations, the parameters, the never ending ladder of what mothers should be doing, underneath that are moms.

Moms are amazing.

So keep fighting for your kids. Rising up. Brushing their hair. Gathering your courage. Driving where you need to go. Laughing with them. Working. Making dinners. Helping with homework. Saving passwords on the computer. Dealing with sibling issues. Folding socks.  Or doing whatever you need to do and know that in it all that it makes a life difference.

It's not a competition.

It's motherhood.

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All photographs used by permission and credited to Hannah Nicole.
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

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the mom confession.

I am writing this in my hallway at the top of the stairs because my two little boys won't stay in their room and go to bed unless I sit up here at the doorway and utter words like go to bed and stay in bed now - I mean it and no more water and you will lose media time if you get out of your bed again until they both decide to give in, slip under their covers and go to sleep.

That's the truth.

I've tried charts. Bedtime routines. Stickers. Time outs. All of it. And I've resorted to working at the top of the stairs for an hour each night and muttering those phrases. I've actually gotten quite used to emailing, tweeting, facebooking, and writing with my back against the door to my room and my eyes constantly looking in their room to see if they're asleep.

(they're not right now... in case you were wondering.)

My life isn't all together. I've got my share, well more than my share, of ups and downs, fails and do-overs, highs and lows, and sitting at the top of the stair moments because I can't seem to think of something better to do.

I make boxed macaroni and cheese for lunch with the little powdered cheese.

We don't eat organic apples.

I buy my kids fruit roll ups.

Sometimes my kids play too much media.

I skip words, okay paragraphs, in long books at bedtime.

I don't fold all the little boys clothes because they just dump them out anyway.

My sock basket is rarely ever folded.

I don't like doing dishes.

My living room right now (which I can see because I am sitting at the top of the stairs) has throw pillows on the floor, papers on the couch, a lamp shade that's crooked, shoes scattered by the door, and a couple empty boxes waiting for the toys to be dumped back in.

My pinterest board however, has pictures of perfectly organized living rooms.

I love Starbucks and will drive there sometimes with the kids in the back and then I will take the long way home.

I get impatient with my kids.

And I'm normal.

My kids? Well, they're normal. Or as normal as kids who want every single thing fair are ever going to be.

Motherhood isn't based on perfection. It's not based on having gluten free (which we must have in my world) or whole wheat macaroni with organic apples and socks that are matched and never getting impatient and a perfectly picked up living room that looks like a pinterest board.

Motherhood is simply real.

Real with real moms who lose their patience, who want to throw in the towel, who have kids (like my Samuel who is now in the hallway next to me telling me he doesn't want to go to bed now) who don't stay in bed. It's full of moms who have to work who'd rather stay home. Or moms who stay home who'd rather work. Or moms who are simply tired with the every day same routine.

It's full of real moms who take their kids to the apple orchard and the zoo and the coffee shop and the grocery store and the doctor and to school and all of that normal stuff. It's full of moms who feel like all they do is the laundry again and again and if they see clean clothes stuffed in the hamper again they threaten to take them away and sell them (or maybe that's just me). It's full of moms who are happy, joyful, sad, overwhelmed, and well, let's face it real.

That's the being enough mom. (link)

That's my confession. It's not that I don't want to be better. I think at heart we wake up each day and want each day to be better than the next. That's why I celebrate pulling up the boot straps and trying again and again and giving yourself grace. (Don't forget grace. Ever.) Motherhood has moments of extreme patience, extreme trying, and really learning to not compare.

Motherhood isn't based on external markers of perfection.

Motherhood is an act of learning. Every single day. It's being okay with the fact that maybe you like the convenience of that boxed macaroni and cheese. You know why? It's because it's not based on what other moms are doing - it's based on you - on you knowing your family, knowing what is best for your family, and being brave and confident in what you're doing.

Motherhood, and in fact life, is often this journey of waking up and discovering self.

That's the truth.

So I tell you, you right now, you the mother in whatever stage of motherhood you may find yourself that you are doing just fine. You are doing fine if your kids don't stay in bed, you hate potty training (does anyone like that one?), your kids have melt downs in the store, you get exasperated, you sneak the last bit of ice cream for yourself, and well, you're just you.  Just keep trying, keep doing your best, and keep growing more and more confident in your ability to mother.

You know what your kids need? Of course you do. They don't need perfect.

They need you.

You, the imperfect wonderfully perfect for your kids, mother.

That's my mom confession today.

Oh yes, and we're having hot dogs and peaches and macaroni and cheese for lunch.

******

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All photographs used by permission and credited to Hannah Nicole.
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

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to the mom with kids under five.

You're my hero.

For real.

My youngest is four. Four years old, and for the first time I feel like I can catch my breath again. I don't have to worry so much about him wandering the house and playing. He just plays. I don't have to spoon feed him, change diapers, potty train, have safety gates, chase him around on the playground, have him in my sight every second, and have some who cannot communicate back to me. I can take a shower now and not have to keep the door open and even though I still get the cries of M-oo-m most of the time it's because one of the boys is irritated that their brother took the Ironman Lego set pieces from the other or they're desperately in need of a snack even though they had one 14 minutes earlier.

When my kids were under five it was crazy.

It was me, the mom, not really getting many moments to catch my breath.

I know you're there.

You wake up before you want to wake up. You change diapers, brush hair, choose shirts and then are met with resistance because there's a tag on the shirt and so now you go and try to find the scissors to cut it off and by that time the baby is crying and hungry. You make breakfast for everyone, try to unload the dishwasher, the cereal spills, and the sounds of Disney Jr come from the family room that instead of being neat has piles of duplos and cars and toys spread everywhere.

And you want to do this right.

I know that.

You're looking at those creatures who haven't yet hit school and you're thinking that you have to do it right so that they're ready for school. There are crafts that you're told you should be doing and classes that will make you're child "ahead" and all of this tremendous pressure to measure up in this competitive motherhood world.

I want to tell you to not compete. Or to at least not worry about doing it right. Truth? Every single mother had to start out as a rookie. Everyone. There wasn't one of us who didn't wake up at 4:30 am with a baby wishing that we could roll over for a bit longer and wishing that breakfast would magically would appear or that SuperNanny would show up at our door and deal with the four year old who has all of a sudden developed quite a spitfire personality who now refuses to help pick up those blocks and hates getting his hair washed and decides to run off in the grocery store.

Motherhood is tiring. My post, to the tired mom, was published on The Huffington Post and received over 100k facebook likes in four days.

Four days, moms.

That's a great deal of tired moms. That's many of us knowing that we're tired but just needing a note that it's okay that we're tired. It's about a group of mothers who despite being tired just want to be acknowledged for those crazy motherhood moments that we plow through day after day after day. I'm here to tell you that being tired doesn't mean that you don't measure up in a hypothetical world of should do's, nor does it mean that you're not a good mom, or any of those worries that runs through your head when you are trying to teach colors and they can't seem to grasp the between green or blue. Or that your friend's child can skipcount and your kid is still stuck on fifteen. That's just real stuff. Kids learn. Don't let yourself get tired trying to compete to the crazy, and I mean crazy, expectations that can be pushed on moms.

Do you know what I celebrate about you? That you're not perfect. That you've had to learn how to do all the mothering things. That you've learned to make the best choices for your family in a world that will scream that this is the best and only choice and you have to sift through 48 different best choices.

I celebrate real.

Real. Authentic. Moms.

And because I celebrate being real I'm here to tell you this morning that when you have kids under five years old you will be tired. You will give of yourself more than you thought you could give. You will look at other moms and wonder if you're doing it right. You will have to learn everything.

You will learn your strength.

You will learn that you are brave.

For months and months and months I've been writing about the brave mother. Mothering little ones is an exercise in bravery. Don't argue, tired and awesome mom of little ones. You, right now, live a life where you are almost always dictated buy the schedule and whims of little humans that you love. They're the ones that you teach Memory to and only use six cards. You teach them to write their names with broken crayons. You cut their grapes, hotdogs, and prepare food that is safe. You wipe faces and hands and then later marker from the wall. You sleep with your ears not turned off so that the cry of the baby wakes you up. You say good morning dude to your four year old and they get upset and say don't call me that.  You slap your hair into a pony tail, push the giant cart at Target, order your lattes, shop the clearance aisle, know which cereals makes your kids crazy, know how to avoid walking by the toy section even if it means making your shopping trip better, and can balance a kid on your hip while finding a nuk while paying and smiling at the cashier.

That is amazing.

So you, today, in your home or at work or wherever you read these words of mine, I want to tell you that you will first of all get through these crazy years. You'll get through. Your kids will grow, they'll  start school and instead of flipping the channels between Nick Jr and Disney Jr you'll now spend time trying to explain the difference between a predicate nominative and a direct object. You'll have rules on media and curfews and will have to enforce sassy talk. Bottom line: you will get through. They will grow. And you will make it.

Breathe.

Or at least attempt a breath in the midst of the giving and cleaning and loving.

You are brave. Powerful. Patient. Inspiring.

Culture may try to make you think you need to be perfect, but I'm here to tell you, there is no perfect, there is only real. You, sweet mother with kids under five, you are the perfect real mother for those kids that can drive you a bit batty. I know sometimes you're worn, tired, doubting your own strength, or just want a break. That is normal. Do not worry. Just keep being awesome. Keep getting up, brushing their teeth, remembering to floss with those little dino flossers when you can, keep making lunches - even if it's boxed macaroni (link), keep driving to preschool, keep calling a friend, keep doing the awesome things that you do.

You are doing fine.

You know what?

You are more than fine - you are amazing.

You can do this today. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next week. And the next year. And then, someday, someday you will look back and you will not only think that you survived but that you thrived.

Brave motherhood.

That's real. And that's you.

****

Oh yeah, and moms whose kids are grown or beyond the crazy under five stage - today would be an awesome day to tell those moms in the under five trenches how awesome they are and how you're proud of what they do. Those things matter. Send them this post, grab them coffee, watch their kids for an hour, or just simply give them a smile. Don't forget those under five years. #littlethingsmatter

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Today's photos? A mixture of real life live from the instagram feed. Find me there at finding_joy
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

Want to read some inspiring letters to moms? Grab my ebook with 21 original letters.

lonely motherhood connected

I feel so alone.

Would you write a letter to the lonely mom?

I get email after email after message after message after tweet after comment and all again asking me to write about the lonely mom. Yes, the lonely mom. The mom, like you, or me, or the mom at Target who has actually mastered pushing the jumbo cart that needs blinkers and two weeks of training and yet, still feels alone. The lonely mom in a world of crazy social media connectivity.

We have facebook, pinterest, twitter, email, phones with us at all the time and yet, sometimes, I think we as mothers feel more alone than ever when hypothetically, we should be connected more than ever. We share status updates and like things. We add friends. We love instagrams and favorite tweets. We send texts with cute little heart emoticons and messages with clever quotes. We share our pictures, videos, and sometimes our hopes for the week. We update our lives and check in at places and take pictures of us smiling in a crowd.

Yet, so often, we feel alone.

Isolated.

Watching a world of information, perfection, could do's, should have done's, never-ending projects, vacations, expectations, fabulous dinners, cute homes, clever kids, and scrapbooks of life scrolling by.

Truth? I think the reason so many of us feel so alone it is that so much time is spent labeling and unintentionally competing and thus less time is spent embracing each other for who we are. And that categorizing of motherhood just might come with the crazy flood of information that we're presented with every single day.

But, listen. At the core, we're still all mothers.

Mothers who wake up often tired. Mothers with dreams. Mothers wondering if they're going to make it through the morning and toddlerhood. Mothers working several jobs and praying that the food stretches the week. Mothers with one child. Mothers with many children. Mothers who are worn out. Mothers who are content. Mothers who are married. Mothers who are single. Mothers who don't care what anyone else is doing. Mothers with kids that sit still. Mothers with kids throwing tantrums at the check-out lane in Target. We're all mothers painting different canvases of motherhood. Making choices best for our families. Loving our kids. Working hard. Giving of ourselves.

What if this constant stream of highlights contributes to the culture of loneliness that mothers feel? What if it's a disconnect between really getting to know someone versus only getting to know someone by the information that they share? There is a deeper level of intimacy with really getting to know the mom at preschool and sitting in the Starbucks that she instagrams all the time (haha...like me) versus simply looking at her instagram picture with the artsy looking caramel macchiato cup with the Starbucks logo turned just perfectly and her toddler who sat still for the eleven seconds it took her to take the picture.

When one gets to know someone more they see the mom ordering the macchiato and dealing with the toddler and hearing her share her story and seeing tears sometimes well in the corner of her eyes as she talks about being overwhelmed with the toddler who sat still only for the eleven seconds it took to take the instagram.

The frenzy of social can add layers of should have's, could have's, why didn't I do that's, and other unneeded expectations on our lives. It's fabulous to share, to be social, but in that sharing and reading other's lives we also need to remember that it's only a snapshot of the entire canvas, the entire story, of another person.

Do you know what matters at the deep core level? It's the bond of motherhood. It's the bond of being brave even when sometimes we're scared out of our minds and don't know what to do with those kids that we love unconditionally. It's the connection of giving of self - losing sleep, counting to ten, praying for peace, driving here and there, teaching them how to thrive as adults - while we live our lives as mother day by day teaching them, those kids, the skills and the courage to leave our homes.

We're not raising kids to make ourselves look like super moms.

We are instead blessed with the awesome responsibility of teaching and training and loving and guiding the kids who we love to be adults. And that's motherhood.

If we as women, as mothers recognize the potential for loneliness in what appears to be a very socially connected world, then we have a responsibility. Not to try to keep up with everything that we think would make us be a perfect mother but rather the responsibility to be real, to reach out to the other moms, to open our doors into our lives and not worry that everything isn't exactly right or that we have different opinions on parenting topics but to rather embrace each other simply for who we are as mothers.

Motherhood isn't meant to be journeyed alone.

Let's celebrate real. Let's celebrate our differences and the fact that we can learn from others.

Let's connect motherhood. One phone call. One five extra minutes spent talking in the doorway. One trip to Starbucks. One message telling a friend how much they matter to you and how grateful you are to have them as a friend. Let's create a community, a culture of women that decides to strip away the layers of unneeded defining expectations of motherhood and let's instead start to celebrate the little things in life. The moments of bravery and teaching and brushing off the dust and trying again. The times spent together learning about others.

It's about real heart connections. And being okay with not having the perfect life but instead opening up your life, your home, your heart to another. So to you, all the moms that have emailed me telling me you feel so very alone in this world of motherhood, I want you to know that you are not alone. There are many moms feeling this way. You and I and the next mom and the mom on facebook and on my finding joy facebook page we all can work to change that loneliness. Let's be real. Let's linger a bit more, sit with coffee, and not worry about measuring up but rather invest in each other's lives.

Motherhood is beautiful. And motherhood is a journey meant to be shared.

So today, today I challenge you to do one thing to connect with another mom. One thing. A phone call. A smile at Starbucks (do you feel a theme with me and Starbucks?). Meeting at the park. Open your life.

Lonely motherhood connected. #littlethingsmatter

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Today's photos? A mixture of real life live from the instagram feed. Find me there at finding_joy
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

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what kids need.

I think you're the best, mommy.

I didn't believe him.

I sat in my living room, on the worn plaid couch that for years I've wished to replace, and I heard those words tumble from my six year old Elijah's mouth directed for me. That sweet boy, the one who loves Angry Birds and has the energy of four kids tucked into his little body, was standing there. Staring at me - the weary mom. And simply telling me he thinks I am the best.

I wanted to debate with him.

I wanted to tell him that I wasn't. That I was short tempered and lost my patience when we couldn't find the missing shoe and that the living room was messy and that the dishes from breakfast were mixing with the dishes from lunch waiting to be done and that I'm sorry that we still hadn't read the book that he had brought down before breakfast and that I shouldn't have been distracted.

I saw all the things that I didn't do right.

I saw the Halloween costume scraped from things that were tucked in the dress up box that's normally shoved in the corner in the laundry room with the unfolded basket of socks resting on top. It's the box that they beg to take out and so often I tell them not right now simply because I don't want to deal with the mess.

He didn't see that.

He saw that I pulled out the box and that I helped him figure out a costume. He didn't care that it was last minute or that it wasn't super creative or that it wasn't the coolest latest trend. He didn't care that the hat was from the airport in Chicago and that it was purchased on the way home from one of my speaking engagements.

He saw that I helped him find that pilot hat and that I helped him stick on a $5 felt beard that itched him like terrible but he wanted so bad to keep it on his chin. He saw the $1 glowsticks that I grabbed in the deals section of Target that we threw in his plastic grocery bag making it glow.

He remembered that I let him help make chips and cheese for lunch.

He remembered that when he worked on his homework that I was so proud of how he made his lowercase e.

He didn't see all the stuff that I remembered.

We're hard on ourselves moms.

Let me repeat that.

We are hard on ourselves.

That's the truth. We are plain and simple really terribly hard on ourselves. If you were to come into my home and describe my mothering you would probably describe it with a great deal more grace then often I'm willing to give myself. Yet we live in a world and a culture that is constantly trying to put parameters around what makes a good mom and what kids need. There are blog posts, pinterest pins, cute pictures and quotes on facebook, adorable instagrams, and clever tweets all about mothers. More and more and more.

Our kids don't see those things. They're not scouring facebook or pinterest making sure that we're doing all the things that often time we think we should be doing.

They're just being kids. Who need a mom. A mom that is there for them when they fall and need a bandage. A mom that's willing to listen to their tales from the day. A mom who makes them spaghetti with just enough sauce and extra parmesan cheese sprinkled on the top. A mom who loves them. Even when she's tired or worried or thinks she's not doing enough.

Being a mom isn't about doing all that stuff.

It's about being there in the thick of things, in the trenches, and doing your best. And sometimes your best looks one way and other times it looks totally different. It doesn't need to match what your friends are doing or what you see on pinterest or facebook or on television. It's the best for you and your family. Your kids simply need you.

They see you for what you really are. Even if sometimes they don't admit it. Or don't say it. Or slam doors in your face. Or are obstinate. Or don't want to eat dinner. Or won't go to bed. Or don't clean their room. Or when it feels like they don't see all the stuff that you really do. Like laundry.

Being a mom isn't easy.

It's giving constantly. It's being creative, confident, inventive, proactive, energetic, pondering, nurturing, patient, loving, joyful, rule keeping, rule setting, teaching, caring, staying up until the wee hours of the morning, not comparing, always learning - it's all the things that you already do that are often so easy to dismiss.

So to you, right now, the mom in the midst of the journey, to you I just want you to remember that today, right now, what you are doing really matters. It may seem small or inconsequential or that you've said no candy right now a million times (at least that's what it feels like in my home) or that you're just being a mom.

Just being a mom is exactly what those silly energetic feisty drive you crazy at times kids of ours need.

You are being the one that nurtures little humans. Teaches them to survive and thrive in this world. You teach them confidence and that wearing blue crocs on Halloween are cool. You teach them what it means to be brave and to keep going. And you teach them about selfless love and giving of self.

And it's not in the big perfect things. It's the little things. The hugs. I love you's. And being the one that smiles at them no matter what.

Start seeing that.

So sweet mother who may feel weary in this motherhood journey. Who may feel like she's doing the same thing over and over. Who may feel like she's working, working, working, and racing home and just getting minutes of time. Who sees everything where she thinks she messes up. You know what? Do you know what do kids need?

They need you.

The imperfect real perfect for your kids mom.

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All photographs used by permission and credited to Hannah Nicole.
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

to the brave you are enough mom

This summer I wrote a post about why being a mom is enough.

The post, written in 22 minutes in my favorite Starbucks has been crazy. I've read it again. I've spoken about it. I've talked with friends about it.

It's about simply being enough.

It's about celebrating motherhood.

We live in a world that is constantly telling us that we need to do more, be more, achieve more, work more, rest more, balance more, look like more, accomplish more, create more, more, more, and more. It's like a never ending ladder - you think you get to the hypothetical top rung only to find out that there is a dozen and an infinity more things that you could be doing.

It's enough moms to be real.

It's enough moms to admit that there are days where you really don't have it together.

It's brave enough moms.

As my voice for mothers has become more cultivated and focused I've realized that sometimes we just need to know that we're normal. It's brave. It's brave to open your front door when your life isn't perfect and to invite someone it. It's brave to keep pulling up your bootstraps and to keep trying even when you don't know if you have energy to keep going. It's brave to call your friend and to tell her you're exhausted and just need someone to talk with.

Sometimes being enough means being okay with not having everything perfect and looking at that ladder of should have's and deciding that you're not going to keep looking at that as the definition of success.

Success is not in those things.

Success. You know what I'm going to write.

It comes in the moments in motherhood. In the brave moments. In the normal moments. In the loving your kids even though they're slightly driving you crazy moments. In the I can't do this anymore but you keep going moments. In the opening the door moments.

Those moments tucked in the minutes of each day. It comes in the times when the milk spills all over the bench and trickles onto the floor and drips everywhere and you're exasperated that it even spilled but you look at your four year old and you realize that you love him way more than the spilled milk.

Being enough means being your best - not the best from the hypothetical never ending ladder of should have's. Trying each day. Loving those kids. And being okay with your motherhood journey. Our journeys are all different, sweet mother. So those cool pins with awesome time out ideas, great ways to organize, cool dinners that the family will all love, crafts that you could be doing, picked up living rooms, and all of that? Well. They are ideas.

Ideas. Not expectations.

Motherhood? Expectation. Raise your kids. Love your kids. Teach your kids. Try. Be okay to cry. Be even more okay to laugh. Support your friends. Love your friends. Don't judge. Don't compare. Be you. You, the perfect mom for your kids, you.

You'll go to bed tired most nights. You'll go to bed with stuff on the counter, laundry to be folded, books to straighten, a to-do list that's not quite done, and kids who love you. Even if sometimes it feels like they don't.

Do you know what I believe?

A mother is enough.

A mother who works hard, loves her kids, doesn't always have it together but just keeps trying, real mom.

My words to you?

You are enough.

Onward brave mother.

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All photographs used by permission and credited to Hannah Nicole.
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

measured up motherhood defined

I can't do it anymore.

The words spilled out of my mouth and tumbled into the room as the tears rolled down my face. This motherhood race - the race filled with expectations, things to do, projects, places to be, kids to raise, meals to cook, work to complete, relationships to deal with, rooms to clean - it all simply felt like too much. My hands felt like they were working to keep seven hundred billion plates spinning around and around and now I was being thrown one hundred billion more. I didn't want to admit that I couldn't keep all those plates spinning or that I really didn't care about some of them.

It's a world of measured up expectations - be this, do this, don't do this, let go of this, make sure your kids are like this. It hurts my head sometimes, honestly. What happened to the mornings of simply waking up and gathering your kids in your arms and loving them? Now every single thing feels like it has to be the amazing over the top documented perfect thing. Well, maybe not everything, but most things.

I can't be supermom.

You can't be supermom.

But we can be real.

You and I can look at all the things that we think we're being told to do - all those spinning plates - and we can decide to let some of those plates go crashing down. They can spin out of our reach and then those plates - those worries - they so quickly become evidence of worries that don't need to bog down our mothering heart.

I couldn't do it because I thought that I needed to keep it all together all the time.

And sometimes, sometimes in life, sometimes it means letting go of some of the expectations that we put on ourselves. Oh those expectations - those times where it's hard to open the door and say that we would love a bit of help. Or to admit that we really don't know what to do with the three year old that won't potty train and ignore the fact that everyone else's child had it down by the time they were two. Or that your kids played poptropica too long on the computer but you needed just a moment of quiet.

Measured up motherhood.

Those things don't define us.

You know what I mean. I know you do. Deep down there's the anxiety that motherhood is this measured up way to define success. Motherhood shouldn't be measured by how many plates we can keep spinning - that results in a mom out of breath exhausted. So many of you are exhausted. You are racing from thing to thing. You are wondering if all of this every day normal stuff matters. You are comparing. You are worrying. You are alone. You are trying to give even though you are exhausted. You are. You are. You are.

You are mother.

Lets measure that for a while. Not based on the externals that you do, but on the little things - those little things matter moments.

You are the perfect answer for the skinned knee. You know which child loves his pbj cut into triangles and which loves the squares. You know how to look them in the eye and tell them you love them. You know how to roll yourself out of bed in the morning even though you're exhausted. You can split the last of the cereal in equal ways. You can find the missing soccer shoe in thirty two seconds. You can discern between cries between the I'm irritated cry and the brother took my toy cry and the I fell down and hurt my knee cry. You can answer to the words mom fifty two times in what feels like fifty two seconds.

But most importantly, you love, even if you don't have everything perfect.

Lives are messy.

My life? Messy. Your life? More than likely a bit messy.

Messy doesn't mean beautiful. Messy doesn't mean that what you're doing doesn't matter. Messy doesn't mean that you don't have it all together.

In fact, messy is often the most beautiful things in life. It's the areas in life where you can discover just how much what you do matters and what is important. It's the moments in life that someday you will look back at and celebrate. It's the times when you mumbled the I can't do it anymore words just like I did and instead found the courage and bravery to do it.

You can do it.

I can do it.

Measured up motherhood is about us being the best moms that you and I can be right now. In this moment. And maybe it means our kids birthday parties are bought with the clearance stuff at Target even though you have a whole board of crazy birthday ideas on Pinterest. And maybe that means that instead of worrying about whether everything is absolutely perfect you are simply real. You.

Motherhood is an amazing journey of self discovery. You find where you're weak and you really find out where you are strong. You are strong. You are powerful. You are brave.

And you have the courage to move forward.

Let some of the plates go.

Motherhood measured up defined.

It's not about keeping everything perfect. It's about you. Trying. Loving. Celebrating little things. Celebrating big things. Being brave. Not being afraid of measuring up. Being real. Being you. Being a mom.

You can be brave.

You can do it.

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself" Franklin D. Roosevelt

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All photographs used by permission and credited to Hannah Nicole.
Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

Want to read more letters to moms? Grab my ebook with 21 original letters.