My mother. An academician. Best cook. Returned home from work daily to ensure I got my home-cooked meal on time and finished my school projects before discussing my topic of social obsession for the day. Best mom!Me. An editor. Dismal in the kitchen. Return home from work (or my desk during wfh) daily and spend hours discussing pop culture/world affairs/school skirmishes with my kid as we slump on the sofa eating what the chef made and passing on crumbs to our pet, Pushkin. Best mom? (My daughter wants me to replace that question mark with an exclamation mark.) So best mom it is!Were often quite hard on ourselves as mothers. We compare ourselves to the matriarchs who brought us upshining paragons of virtue and sacrifice. Just in: This bad mothers who do not sacrifice is a trope best avoided. Please get yourself that spa appointment, spend time with your friends, bungee-jump, trek, and work late hours if you must. Your child will not hold that against you. Dont give up your life because you have borne one (or many). Be that independent, happy, carefree, goofy woman you were in the pictures your kid spots in your FB memories.I often wondered if and how Id hold a candle to the mother who worked, cooked, handled my homework while being admired by colleagues, friends and extended family.Yet here I am holding a battery-operated torch that may flicker occasionally but shows my daughter that I am an individual first. An individual who may not be able to rustle up her favourite okra but is always emotionally available to her. A mom who adores her child (and dog and plants) but also loves herself as much. Love yourself first, mamas! Happy Mothers Day in advance!