I’ve always wanted to be the mom that was the fun mom, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that goes under water, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that eats pizza and ice cream and slurps her drink, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that runs grand central kids’ station, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that listens really carefully and sits down for elaborate tea parties, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that accepts her children just as they are, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that acts silly crazy, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that loves so very big that she relishes the chaos of little people, but all too often I let being a grown up get in the way.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom that my son would be proud to acknowledge, the mom that my little girl mind remembers.

I’ve always wanted to be the mom who tried and failed, laughed and cried, lived and learned, grieved and hoped, hugged and wrestled, yelled and cheered.

Perhaps.