For the longest time

 For the longest time, I waited for someone to tell me I was doing a good job as a mom.

I waited for someone to notice the little things I did. The late-night feedings. The way I remembered every appointment. The meals I cooked, the laundry I folded, the toys I picked up a hundred times a day.

I thought that if no one said “thank you” or “you’re doing amazing,” it meant I wasn’t.

But motherhood taught me that validation cannot be the fuel that keeps you going because sometimes it never comes. Sometimes no one sees all the small moments that hold a family together.

Now I have learned to celebrate my own wins. I celebrate the mornings I get everyone out the door without tears. I celebrate the days I manage to drink my coffee while it is still hot. I celebrate the moments I keep my patience when I feel like I am about to lose it.

I do not need someone to clap for me anymore. I will clap for myself. Because I know how hard I am working. I know how much love I pour into this role every single day.

And that is enough.