motherhood might not be a job, but it sure is thankless.
you’ll lose your hair, and gain some weight, so there’s that. you’ll forget where you put your purse, but remember exactly where they left their [insert desperately needed item here] (and it’s always on the floor/under the bed/by the stairs/the last place you put it). you can’t hear someone talking right in front of you, but you can hear what they say two rooms down the hall over the sound of the television. you stop showering, but you wash laundry/dishes at least five times a day. you get anal retentive about folding clothes, but lose the ability to be bothered about the x number of toys, diapers, tools, receipts, etc strewn throughout the house.
because no one says please, and when they do they don’t mean it. because simple things are a colossal struggle. because even when you have a moment to try to do something special, they don’t notice. and they don’t say thank you.
vomit is not glamorous. mucus is not sexy. two day old mom funk cannot be marketed and sold in a pretty glass bottle – who would buy that?
you don’t always get a crappily handmade card or even, “happy mothers day” on those days that are supposed to be just for you.
but when it comes down to it, that’s fine, because we don’t do it for the glory or the recognition – all the cleaned-up poop-splosions, kissed boo boos, remade snacks, temper tantrums… (you get where i’m going with this), you wouldn’t trade it for the world, because when she wraps her little arms around your neck and gives you a big kiss on the cheek, you realize it’s all worth it. (even if she’s really just trying to get closer to the remote control you took from her five minutes ago because she kept screwing with the tv.)
you do it because you love it, so happy (belated) mother’s day to all the moms – all shapes and sizes and varieties, no matter how or why they call you mom. you’re all the world’s most okayest mom in my books.