To the moms who are always doing more than they realize...

Mother’s Day isn’t just about breakfast in bed or flowers (though those are lovely). It’s about honoring the unseen work, the emotional labor, the way your mind never stops running through checklists for the little ones still at home and the older ones who are out making their way.

I’m a PROUD mom of four, with three already into adulthood. I have realized that parenting doesn’t stop when they leave home, it just shifts. It becomes less about tying shoes, packing lunches, or enforcing bedtimes, and more about holding space, listening deeply, and resisting the urge to fix things unless asked. Advice now comes with an invitation—only when welcomed (and trust me, I’m still learning that part).

But there’s another layer that I’ve come to know well, the quiet guilt that lingers over how I parented 10, 15, even 20 years ago. I sometimes look back and wish I’d been more patient, less reactive, more playful, less stressed. Been more of my evolved mother and grandmother self to them. There are moments I replay in my mind, wondering if I got it wrong or missed something important.

The truth is, we parent with the tools, awareness, and capacity we have at the time. And we grow. We evolve. That’s what makes motherhood so tender and so human. It’s a lifelong learning curve, not a finish line.

This is why becoming a grandmother has felt like such a gift. I now see motherhood through a softened lens. I’ve let go of the pressure to do it perfectly and learned instead to simply be—present, grounded, curious. With my grandchild, I don’t feel the same rush to teach or mold. I trust more. I observe more. I create space for him to bloom on his own timeline, in his own way. And maybe in doing that, I’m offering a quieter kind of wisdom that comes only with time and reflection.

If you’re a mom who ever feels guilty for not doing enough—then or now—I hope you also recognize how much you already do. Your presence, your care, your love, it’s woven into everything. Even on the days you’re stretched thin or just getting by, you’re still showing up in ways your children will carry with them for a lifetime. They remember the good stuff, better than we do.

This Mother’s Day, take a breath. You’re not failing. You’re evolving. And you’re not alone.

Here’s to the mothers who keep showing up—with full hearts, messy schedules, and a love that never quits. ❤️



~Elizabeth