Mother yourself.

If I could offer you only one tip for Mother’s Day, mothering yourself would be it. By that I mean eating and sleeping as properly as you can and nurturing yourself emotionally as if you were your own child. Do this all year, every day—not only when you are sick. There is little joy in the family whose parents seek martyrdom, as if they will be rewarded with a year of sleep and forty qualified babysitters in the afterlife.

Exercise if you want to, but I won’t lecture you on that.

The Keeper and the IUD don’t mix--unless you’re trying to conceive.

Beware of parenting dogma. There are all kinds of experts, but only you know how to raise your child.

It’s better to get your brain back than your butt back after having a baby. Of course you might want both and more, but you have to start brain-first. Sometimes to get your brain back you have to train it like J. Lo kickboxing. If you are depressed and need medication, think of that as your brain’s special diet. If you are depressed and need therapy, think of that as your brain’s special exercise. You have a world of emotional fitness options. And perhaps someday there will be as many products and services for the mental health and well-being of women as there are for improving our body parts.

No matter what, don’t be ashamed of yourself. Parents make mistakes, just like all the other subcategories of people in the world: tap dancers, taco vendors, Presbyterians. Own up and do the best you can to make it better, then let go.

Pack snacks.

Pacifiers are not evil.

Think of other parents as your colleagues in a shared venture of great social importance. Or as people in a mosh pit. If you see somebody fall, help her up.

Resist the Mommy Wars. They were invented by talk-show producers who love a good girl fight.

You will not get your identity back after becoming a mother. Identity is a fluid concept; you cannot step twice into the same river. Strive instead to reconnect with your self, which stays true despite changes in circumstance and which you have always possessed.

Other people’s children will always seem more advanced, more cooperative, and less prone to tantrums—until you babysit them.

Children will eat almost anything—spinach, mycoprotein, hoki fish—if it is shaped into a nugget and breaded.

Get the best vibrator you can afford.

No matter who you are, you are the right mother for your child. You may have been told that you are too young or too old, too poor, too disabled, too crazy, or too fat. Your children only care that you love them and do your best. The mothers of the world comprise all kinds of women. There is no perfect specimen.

Be political.

Share the load.

Natural births, cloth diapers, organic food, and breastfeeding are all good things, but you’re not a dupe or a servant of evil if they don’t work out for your family.

Unless you’re in recovery, allergic to sulfites, or otherwise ineligible, drink wine occasionally.

Start a poker night for moms. Strip poker optional.

Listen to music with your children, and don’t dance around with scarves unless you’re really feeling it.

In spite of all this, you may have days in which motherhood feels tedious and unrewarding, which is a natural reaction to life with children. They are, after all, children—people in progress. At times they make unreasonable and irritating demands or jump headlong into danger. They cannot be trusted to feed themselves sensibly or dress for the weather until middle age. They generate a spectacular amount of mess. They can wear you out long before noon. And on these days, platitudes about the “world’s most important job” ring hollow. On these days, it is helpful to remember that while socializing people is in fact the most important job there is on earth, it is a *job*—with tasks that are chores, with a certain amount of clockwatching, and with very little gratitude from the customers. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing the job well, or that the job isn’t worthwhile.

Oh, and there’s no pay. So be sure to mother yourself, too.