No Regrets...About Motherhood.

Now that I’m a grandmother, I have the gift of hindsight. With Mother’s Day 2026 approaching, I’ve been reflecting on the messy, winding, and deeply meaningful path of raising three daughters—each of whom is now a mother herself.
To this day, they love to remind me how “tough” I was. And they’re right. I was strict, direct, and I never sugarcoated reality. I wasn’t interested in being the “cool mom,” even if their friends loved being at our house. I led with consistency and truth; that was my love language. It wasn’t always easy to hear, but years later, their Mother’s Day letters (and the respect of my sons-in-law) tell me they finally understand why.
I knew instinctively who I wanted to be as a parent. I ignored the “parenting trends” of the time and leaned into my own values. I come from a line of formidable women: a paternal grandmother who raised seven boys alone, a maternal grandmother who was the embodiment of kindness, and my own mother—selfless, disciplined, and entrepreneurial. She didn’t have time for fluff; she was too busy building a life for us.
I took that generational strength and added my own touch: more laughter, more openness, and more tenderness.
I was never a “helicopter parent.” I didn’t micromanage homework or coddle them, but I expected excellence. I gave them room to struggle because I wanted them to know that while the world doesn’t bend for anyone, they were strong enough to face it.
Our home was alive. We danced in the kitchen, we argued, we screamed, and we always forgave. We talked openly about everything—sex, mistakes, and regrets. I let them see my flaws and hear my stories (including the time we smoked a little pot for my husband’s 50th). Life should be full of joy and a little rebellion.
The teenage years were a whirlwind of heartbreak, chaos, and the occasional therapy session. But we weathered it all together. Today, I’m not most proud of their degrees or careers—I’m proud of how deeply they love each other. That sisterly bond is my greatest gift to them.
Motherhood isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. It’s having the courage to set boundaries and the humility to admit when you’re wrong.
This year, I honor the woman who made me, and I celebrate the women I raised. We all mother differently, but if we lead with intention, we’ve done well. Seeing my grandchildren now, I see the ripple effect of that strength and love.

No regrets. Just love.

Happy Mother’s Day!