Motherhood. A word that conjures up images of rosy-cheeked babies, perfectly decorated nurseries, and endless patience. But let's be honest, those images are just a sliver of the reality. Motherhood, for me, is a messy masterpiece – a beautiful, chaotic, ever-evolving work of art. The fierce love that floods me for my little ones is unlike anything I've ever known. It's a mama bear kind of love, a love that makes me leap tall buildings in a single bound (or at least chase after a rogue toddler headed for the street). It's a love that makes me sing off-key lullabies and wipe away endless tears, both theirs and sometimes, mine. But motherhood is also about strength I never knew I possessed. It's the strength to pull an all-nighter with a teething baby, the strength to navigate endless diaper changes and laundry piles that seem to multiply like rabbits. It's the strength to advocate for my children, to teach them kindness and resilience, even when I'm runnin...