The Mom I Thought I’d Be vs. The Mom I Am
Before I became a mom, I had a whole plan in my head. I was going to be that mom. You know, the one who breastfeeds for a year, purées her baby’s first foods, and would stay at home to raise her kid. But surprise, surprise. I’m not her. I’m not even her second cousin, once removed.
Maybe your “mom plan” went sideways too. You had a version in your head but ended up knee-deep in a completely different life. And somewhere between the sleepless nights and the self-doubt, you started questioning what being a “good” mom even means. If so, I hope my story (and the stats) makes you feel a little better. Cause being a mom is a lot harder than we expected.
In this article:
Common Breastfeeding Problems & Calling It Quits
Toddler Food Ideas & Refusing to Eat
Daycare is the Hill I Died On and Then Resurrected From
Parenting Without a Village
This is The Mom I Am
Common Breastfeeding Problems & Calling It Quits
I barely limped through four months of breastfeeding. Not for lack of love or effort, but because of a tanking milk supply, awful advice, postpartum depression, and the belief that “natural” automatically meant “better”
Formula was the ultimate f-word, failure. But turns out, the only thing that’s toxic was the pressure. Around 70% of women have breastfeeding problems. Everything from low supply to latch issues, infections, pain, and exhaustion that borders on delirium. Yet we act like these are rare exceptions instead of the norm.
What I wish someone had told me:
Fed is best. Formula is food.
Sometimes your body just doesn’t cooperate.
Mental health matters more than the feeding method.
Breastfeeding support should help, not shame.
Toddler Food Ideas & Refusing to Eat
Speaking of food for baby… I thought I’d make nutritious meals my toddler would love. But my son would rather eat nothing than let a vegetable touch his tongue. His preference is anything from the tan food family; chicken nuggets, buttered noodles, fries… the toddler charcuterie.
Here’s how to make it easier, for both of you:
Trust their appetite. Growth and energy tell the real story. The majority of children between one and five who are brought to the doctor for “not eating” are perfectly healthy. Their appetites are in line with their growth and activity level. What looks like “picky” or “refusing to eat” is often just normal self-regulation.
Keep offering without pressure. It can take 10 to 15 exposures before a child decides a new food is safe to eat. Keep putting that broccoli on the plate without turning it into a big deal. A calm “it’s here if you want it”works better than “just one bite.”
Model eating a variety of foods. Curiosity is contagious. When your child sees you actually enjoying your own vegetables—not just forcing them down—they learn food is meant to be experienced, not endured.
Serve family meals. Kids eat better when there’s a FOMO. When they see Mommy, Daddy, or friends eating the same thing, they’re more likely to try it.
Throw it on the floor. If you’re kid won’t eat what’s on their plate, try leaving it on the floor (or someplace reasonably clean) for them to discover later. I wish I was joking but it actually works.
Plus, there are ways to sneak vitamins into my son’s diet. My three go-to’s are:
Daycare is the Hill I Died On and Then Resurrected From
I was adamantly against daycare. I thought it was a cop-out. I worked from home, so of course I could watch my kid at the same time. Then, reality came for me, and I hit the wall so hard it left a me-shaped dent.
Because when you're the default parent, 24/7, with no breaks and no backup, "being everything" turns into "being nothing but exhausted." I changed my mind knowing full damn well I needed help and the space.
Enrolling my son in preschool was the best decision I made.
What he’s getting:
Structure and routine that help him feel secure and confident.
Socialization with kids his own age; learning how to share, take turns, and survive toddler politics.
Exposure to new adults who have the patience (and training) to guide his curiosity without losing their minds.
What I’m getting:
Time to think, move, and breathe without being interrupted every 30 seconds.
A chance to catch up on life; the stuff that’s impossible to do with a two-year-old shadow.
Mental and physical recovery from the other 16 hours of parenting in the day.
More patience and energy when we’re together, because absence really does make the heart grow less snappy.
Parenting Without a Village
But maybe the hardest thing to admit is that I never imagined raising a kid without a village.
We live in Tennessee for the math. Lower cost of living, affordable housing, and the ability to live comfortably on one income. In New Jersey, we would struggle to covered rent and groceries even with both of us working. Here, we have breathing room. What we don’t have is our people.
We’re missing:
My husband’s parents, who are active enough to chase their grandson around the yard without breaking a sweat.
My sister-in-law and her kids. My son’s built-in playmates.
My husband’s aunts and uncles who used to “just pop over” for dinner or a random Tuesday visit.
A familiar network of family who made weekends feel like community.
Instead of my husband’s childhood—where cousins, grandparents, and aunts lived within a 30-minute drive—we’ve built a life where everyone who loves our son most lives a flight away. And in our new town, while people are kind, we don’t have that circle of close-knit friends with kids his age.
And if you’re like me, trying to build community from scratch, you might want to read, Why Every Mom Needs a Village (and How to Build Yours).
This is The Mom I Am
So no, I’m not the mom I thought I’d be when I had ZERO experience. I’m the mom who learned the hard way to let go of the ideal and survive the real. I’m also the mom:
Who adapts.
Who shows up.
Who keeps trying.
Who chooses therapy over pretending everything’s fine.
And that might be more than good enough.
