You know what? There is no mom-mold. Or mould, if you’re picky about spelling things the way a Canadian should spell things.

There is no hard, unyielding frame into which you are supposed to be poured. You are not supposed to be exactly like everyone else.

There is no one right way to be or look or act or mother.

Even if you identify with a “tribe” – be it attached mom or healthy mom or christian mom – even then, you get to be your own, unique kind of person.

I never want to hear you say, I don’t think I fit the mold, again.

There is no mold.

On the Thursday before Mother’s Day, be you.