The hardest part of being a mom has little to do with sleep deprivation, diapers, or tantrums.
At least for me.
The hardest part is wanting to be as good a mom as my mom is. The trouble is, I don't remember how she dealt with the three of us. How she put up with our "mom!" "mom!" whining and such. I don't remember her being angry- no more so than to tell us we were on her last nerve. I don't remember her being scared for us. The mind brushes over those things, so that troubles rarely existed. I logically know I have placed her on a pedestal; I am comparing my mothering to a myth.
But emotionally I am always striving to reach that point of perfection.