Girlfriends, I need to get something off my chest. For real.

My house? It’s never spotless. Like, ever. Meanwhile, I have friends — with kids! — whose homes look like they belong in a magazine. Does that make them better moms than me? Nope. Does it make me a better mom than them? Also nope.

I work out almost every day. I have mom friends who don’t. Some of them say chasing toddlers and folding laundry is enough cardio, and honestly, they’re not wrong. Are either of us better moms because of it? No. Just different routines, different rhythms.

I’ve got a friend who gave birth in a birthing pool, candles glowing, midwife humming some kind of affirmation chant. I gave birth in a hospital bed, whispering prayers to the epidural gods. Both of us cried when we held our babies for the first time. Both of us are good moms.

Sometimes I unwind with a glass of wine. Occasionally in front of my kids. I have a neighbor who’s never touched a drop. Guess what? She’s a good mom. I am too.

I yell. Not proud of it. I’m working on it. I’ve got a friend who speaks so calmly I swear she must have been raised in a Zen temple. I envy her. But we both love our kids fiercely. We’re both good moms.

Some of my friends buy organic everything, make bento box lunches shaped like cartoon characters, and wouldn’t dream of feeding their kids processed snacks. Meanwhile, my kids have eaten popsicles for breakfast. The 50-for-$2 kind. Are they better moms than me? No. Am I better than them? Also no.

I swear. Not around my kids (usually). If you do — does that make you a bad mom? Absolutely not.

I go to the PTA meetings… sometimes. I don’t volunteer every week. But I’m endlessly grateful for the moms who do. Whether you’re room mom of the year or just trying to get everyone to school with matching socks, guess what? You’re doing great.

Are stay-at-home moms better than working moms? No.
Are working moms better than stay-at-home moms? Also no.
Are married moms better than single moms? Nope.
Can moms who live paycheck to paycheck be just as loving and committed as moms who take their kids to Disney every year? Without question.

I’ve got mom friends who say yes to screen time. Others who don’t even own a TV. Some schedule every minute of summer. Others let it unfold hour by hour. Some breastfed. Some bottle-fed. Some co-sleep. Some sleep train. You get the picture.

I’m a Christian. My neighbor is Muslim. Another friend practices no religion. One of my closest mom friends is gay — her kids have two amazing moms. Do you know what we all have in common?

We’re showing up.

For snack time. For story time. For bath time. For “mom, I forgot my homework again” time. We show up — tired, messy, overcaffeinated — but we show up with love.

So maybe we can stop measuring motherhood with checklists and guilt. Maybe we can stop the whispering, the comparisons, the side-eyes in the carpool line. Maybe we can just look at each other and say:

“Hey. Motherhood is hard. You’re doing a good job.”

Because at the end of the day, there’s no perfect way to be a mom. But there are a million ways to be a good one.

So let’s give each other a break. Let’s give each other grace. Let’s support. Let’s cheer. Let’s link arms and raise these wild, beautiful children together.

We’ve got this.
And we’ve got each other.