Some days, I believe I could disappear and no one would notice…as long as the Capri Suns stayed stocked and the WiFi was stable.

I move through rooms like a ghost with a messy braid, carrying armfuls of toys  and mental to-do lists no one else sees. I pick up shoes that somehow multiply like gremlins, scrub yesterday’s spaghetti sauce off the cabinet, and manage arguments about who gets the Elsa cup again. I am the snack keeper, the appointment setter, the knower of all things…but sometimes, I feel like I’ve lost myself.

It’s not that they don’t love me…I’ve just become part of the scenery. Like the WiFi: expected, unnoticed… until it’s down.

And just when that feeling starts to settle in my bones ~the acceptance of being invisible ~the universe slaps me.

It shows up as a sticky drawing taped to the wall with way too much Scotch tape~~where did they even find my tape?? A square figure with hearts for hands and crazy hair that is more accurate than I care to admit. Above it, in barely legible crayon: “Mommy and Lynnlee” 

It shows up in a two-year-old’s aggressive hug, where I’m nearly knocked off my feet by a burst of sticky love and pepperoni breath. In the way a teen whispers, “You make me feel safe,” when I don’t even feel strong. 

The neighborhood kid who walks in without knocking, because she knows this house is a sanctuary and we always have love to spare.

In the way they watch me like really watch me when I think no one’s paying attention. I am the example they will one day follow. 

I am not invisible. I am the glimpse into the future to see who they are becoming. I am the voice they’ll one day hear in their head when they face a tough decision. I am somebody’s safe place. Somebody’s cheerleader. Somebody’s whole world.

Actually…in my case  I’m a lot of bodies’ whole world. 

I may not wear a cape. But I am rocking yesterday’s mascara, leggings  that probably shouldn’t count as pants, and a heart stretched thin and wide with love.

So here’s to the moms who feel unseen.

The ones blending into the background, holding everything together with grit, grace, and dry shampoo. We run on cold coffee, boxed wine and the crumbs left on our kids plates.

You may feel invisible…

But to the ones who matter most, you’re a hero. Welcome home.

Check out our recipe page for the Spaghetti Sauce Recipe ( tastes great even when licked off cabinets… ask me how I know) https://wp.me/PgFq8H-1r