Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Ode to Mama

Well, Mother’s Day came and went…like everything this month that I just glazed over – my niece’s birthday, my nephew’s high school graduation, my appointment to strangle the life out of Simon Cowell.

I honestly don’t know how some women do it. Like my mother. This amazing woman bore 5 children over the short span of 7 years. And she did it all by herself. There was no yelling at my father to change a diaper or feed the baby because she was losing her mind and needed to take a nap. Things were different back then. That was her job. And she loved it. Well…she loved us enough to suck it up I guess.

I just cannot imagine holding ME in one arm and breastfeeding while standing over the stove to have dinner ready at 5:30pm sharp when my father returned home from work, clearing all the toys off the floor and separating all four of my older brothers from a fight with her one free leg that is not the only appendage holding her upright and preventing her from collapsing into a ball of crazy exhaustion.

I feel inadequate.

Here’s the card I woke up to that day…

Lovely isn’t it? Baby-daddy even helped Lia write her own name.

So sweet is my little family of three.

Here is a silly little {belated} Mother’s Day tribute to all those women out there in the world who have somehow managed to keep it all together for the future of the human race…

Ode to Mama

With grace you clean our poop
With skill you twirl the hula hoop
You make our world so bright
Filled with an inner light
You wash away our tears
Sprinkling fairy dust over our fears
And when we scrape our knees
You swoop in like a light breeze
Sing a song or two
And quickly heal our boo-boo
Your intuition is quite keen
Especially when we turn sixteen
Strength is your guide
Always standing by your side
Patience never fails you
Well, it does…but forgiveness soon becomes the glue
When out to the world we solo…you certainly do not show…your own tears that flow
There are countless ways to call her name
It’s the magic word we all proclaim
Mama * Mother * Mom * Madre * Mum
She is simply the most marvelous, the most gracious, the most wonderful one.

Now I smell some funk. In my daughter’s diaper lives the skunk.

It is time for me to say adieu, and rid my nostrils of her poo-poo.


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