I Have To Play 83 Different Roles Every Day. My Favorite One Is Mom.

It's 6:24 a.m. The birds are starting to chirp their morning songs; there’s a lovely shade of sunrise peeking through the window curtains. A part of me can tell that today is going to be different. I can feel it. It's going to be a good day — no, scratch that, a great day. “I really want to do my hair this morning, it’s been forever since I’ve done anything with it,” I think to myself as I’m preparing to hop out of bed. “Oh, and I might as well do my makeup, too!” I have this burning beauty guru motivation in me today. “Today I’m not going to look like a potato.” I can already picture how phenomenal my hair and makeup is going to look. I’m already picturing all the Instagram pictures I’m going to take, Snapchats (with filters, of course), and oh, I’m going to look so cute in today’s vlog!

I can hear that famous Rocky Balboa song playing in the back of my mind. There’s a smile peeking through. I’m out of bed and headed to the bathroom. But here is where things get difficult. The imaginary song in my head fades out and a James Bond track has now replaced it. I am now on a mission: to pass my daughter's bedroom without making a. single. sound.

This is do or die! I pretend I am invisible, pretend I am a ghost (because we all know our kids have these creepy superpowers that let them feel our presence even from miles away). I start to tiptoe down the hallway. One step. Two steps. A couple more steps to pass my toddler’s bedroom and make it to my destination: the bathroom.

“Almost… there… one more step,” I think to myself as I’m holding my breath. “Am I about to start sweating? Dang, I should really hit the gym.”

One more step to go and I will finally be in the bathroom. I can see the invisible finish line calling my name, and my trophy is spending about two to three hours in the bathroom to look presentable today. It sounds worse when you say it out loud, but trust me — it’s worth it!

“Good morning, mommy!!!” My 3-year-old yells from her bedroom. “Damn it,” I say under my breath. “Good morning to you, too!”

Welcome to a day in the life of parenthood. Would you like to visit for one or two nights? Just kidding. You’re stuck here… forever! Enjoy your visit!

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as bad as it seems — or as bad as I may have just made it seem. Being a parent means you will never have the same exact days ever again, and I love that. The spontaneous jokes your little ones make that will have you laughing more than a comedy club. The random tantrums that make you think, “Is my child really crying because I opened up her juice too fast?” (True story.) You’ll find yourself on crazy adventures, doing things you never thought you’d do in your life, but you do them because you have to show your kids you’re brave. Let’s not forget about the the milestones your child accomplishes that make you feel like the greatest and luckiest person in the world, too.

The truth is, you never know what you're going to get with parenthood. It’s like the weather — you enjoy the sunny days and learn to work with the rainy days — and I will never trade my unpredictable forecast for anything in the world.

You play about 83 different roles every day. The genius that knows every answer, the spy that has a mission to make it to the restroom, the super hero with x-ray vision that knows where everything is after your kids lose it, and the best role that you get to play is the mom who is their child’s entire world.

By the time lunch rolls around, I'm so ready to chow down on my food. Juice is on the table, napkins are there (even though we all know only the adults use them), and everyone is seated and ready to begin. “I don’t have all day you know! Lets eat!” my stomach growls at me. So we tuck in... well, most of us. It's 20 minutes in and I'm only about 1/6 done with my food. When I look over at dad, he’s already done eating. “Wow, you must’ve been hungry!” I sarcastically say to him. He must not have understood what I meant because the look on his face seems like he just won a hot-dog-eating contest.

I was actually trying to subliminally mention that he didn’t eat “so fast,” he ate at a normal speed; I’m the one who ate super slow because I’m over here feeding our daughter while he enjoys his meal without any interruptions! ...But I can’t really be the one to complain because whenever he offers to feed Penelope, I refuse, saying I'd rather feed her myself. I can’t be the only one that does that, right? *nervously laughs*

After lunch, the rest of the day is filled with bursts of energy and abrupt moments of tiredness. I find myself answering question after question from my toddler... and then, five minutes later, answering them all over again. Sometimes I even try to sneak into the bathroom for some alone time... before the entire family finds me and decides to join.

That's motherhood, though; I have to play about 83 different roles every day: the genius who knows every answer, the spy who has a mission to make it to the restroom, the superhero with x-ray vision who knows where everything is after the kids lose it, and, of course my favorite role I get to play, mom.

Your child sees you as their everything and you do, too. They can’t live without you, and you can't live without them. They love you more than they know it, and you love them more than you can explain. The love you have for your children beats all interrupted mornings and any stressful meals. It beats anything in the world and every night when you tuck them into bed and give them their last kiss of the day, you can feel your heart glowing. Sometimes you even wish they could stay up a little longer because you’ll miss them too much, but then get a quick flashback of the entire day and sprint out of the room.

You sit down on the couch and think to yourself, “Mission accomplished.” But then you look around the house and it looks like a disaster. Worse than a disaster. Now, this is where role #37 comes in: professional actress.

“Babe, I have the biggest headache right now. I’m going to bed early tonight, the dishes need to be done, OK?” I say as I’m walking toward the bedroom and pulling out my phone, ready to watch some Hulu. “Goodnight, I love you!”