Tammy Letherer 
The dedication in my memoir reads: to my mother, and to all single mothers, who are doing the very best they can.
In my book I wrote, in part, about the challenges I faced going through an unexpected divorce and how many of those experiences helped me appreciate what my own mother went through as a single mom.
Today I wanted to write more about motherhood—something profound and inspiring, a tug-at-your-heartstrings kind of blog that would express both my love for my kids and the gratitude I feel for my mom.
So over the last couple of days, I’ve sat and thought, and thought some more, waiting for the right idea to form. This morning I was still staring at a blank computer screen.
Because this is what motherhood looked like just a few hours ago: one kid wasn’t speaking to me; he left the house without saying goodbye, pointedly leaving the lunch I’d made him on the table. Another kid sobbed on my shoulder, overwhelmed with school pressures and conflicting emotions, while I tried to offer advice in a way that might pass as me knowing what I’m talking about. And the third, now officially an adult, came and went in a way that confirmed his independence and the fact that he no longer truly needs me.
The only motherhood wisdom I can muster at the moment comes from one of the Four Agreements: Take nothing personally.
Writer Barbara Kingsolver says it this way:
But kids don’t stay with you if you do it right. It’s one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won’t be needed in the long run.
And that’s pretty much all I’ve got today. It’s a message that’s barely strong enough to tug at anyone’s heartstrings.
But for me, one of the lessons of motherhood is letting the heart be, whether it’s feeling tugged at, or bursting with love, swelling with pride, or breaking.
As I sit here wondering how to write about this topsy turvy journey, I get a text from the kid who’s not speaking to me. No message, but he shares his SAT results with me. So I’m not, at least today, completely persona non grata. The other kid is curled up next to me for a mid-morning nap. And the third one just came home and told me all about his night out.
And so it goes.
Motherhood is a messy mix of good days and bad days, with rules that seem to change on a dime and victories that morph too quickly into colossal mistakes. For guidance, I can turn again to another of the Four Agreements:
Always do your best.
Every mother I know, especially the single moms, is doing the best she can. If that’s you, here’s a message I think you should take personally:
Keep doing it. Not only is it enough; it’s just right.
