I have a full-time job, a full-time family and full-time interests, which means I have an overly full life. On my good days, I'm tired. On my bad days, I'm exhausted. And I'm not alone.

As our children and our lives grow, we expect more of ourselves, ask less of others and struggle harder. Fatigue and fear are our constant companions. In their place, I propose this mantra for the modern mother: Enjoy more, worry less.

From the time my son was born eight years ago I have worried.

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Would he walk before he turned 1?
Would he ever stop biting?
Would he form lasting friendships?
Would he hate me?
Would he love reading like I do?
Would he ever learn to sit still while eating dinner?

I worry full-time, with no vacation days, because I have no way to measure my son's progress beyond the physical milestones. I don't receive a report card that evaluates whether he is smart enough, social enough, happy enough. I don't receive an annual review that assesses my parenting skills. How can I be sure I'm a good enough mother?

I read every possible indicator as a sign of success or failure. Was he invited to this one's birthday party? Did he get a "green" in school today, or was it an orange or red because he kept blurting out before raising his hand?

I'm sure my mother worried about me, but she didn't have quite as much to worry about.

I remember when Patty Hearst was kidnapped. I was 8 years old and my sister was 16. I was terrified. My parents reassured me that my sister would not be taken next.

When a local girl was kidnapped recently, then found dead, I reassured my son. But I was not reassured.

Amber Alerts fuel my anxiety; so do terror alerts and breaking news alerts.

My mother had Dr. Spock. I have Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura and Dr. I Know What's Best For You.

The number of parenting magazines and books have multiplied exponentially since my mother was raising her children. The number of child psychologists has, too. Child development has become a cottage industry, full of experts feeding the frenzy of overwhelmed mothers whose jobs carry us back and forth between home, community and workplace.

We have less time than ever to be with our children and yet expect more than ever from ourselves and from them. What's the solution?

Repeat after me: Enjoy more, worry less.

Yes, I know. There is every reason to live in fear. The world is a dangerous place. Someone could harm my child with his words, his body, his car. Someone could cause him irreparable damage. Someone could take him away from me forever.

But someone could also blow up the building I'm in, or crash the plane I'm on for my next business trip or take me away from my family forever.

I don't want to spend that imaginary split second I have left regretting all the time I worried. I also don't want my son's mental picture of me to include an ever-wrinkled brow. What's more, I don't want him to grow up always anxious himself.

So, I'm choosing to worry less. It is a choice I know will cost me some peace of mind (after all, worry wards off all evils, right?). But maybe I'll sleep a little more and have some time left over to exercise (which would be much healthier than worrying about my family history of heart disease).

This mantra is just a beginning, though. I'm only one of many mothers with more worries than ways to address them. We live in a time when social trends like opting-out, exhausted couples, and stay-at-home dads are on magazine covers, but treated as if thousands of us just happened to make the same decisions because they were best for our families.

We made the same choices, in part, because they were the only choices available to us.

Some solutions are more creative than others. But nothing we can do individually will be as powerful as finding some new answers collectively. That, however, is a job for another day.

For today? You guessed it: Enjoy more, worry less.

Julie Moos is a thirtysomething who lives with her husband and son. Her column appears every other Thursday. To read more of her thoughts, visit MomInTheMirror.com.