This was one of those weeks where, as a working mom, you just want to throw in the towel. Every morning, something delayed me. Even the days I made it on time, it was filled with missteps along the way. Every task was met with at least one obstacle and, by Tuesday, I was hoping for Friday. It was a week where, when I got home, I wanted to hide but instead had events squeezed in between bedtimes and a sick breast-feeding toddler who sapped any sleep or patience I might normally have.
And, all week, I played in my head with a prayer that might fit my week. Not finding one, here’s my attempt:
A Mom’s plea to her children
Some nights, when I can barely think
And all I want to do is sit and have just one grown-up drink
But instead I bide my time with bedtime stories
Sleepy eyes and lullabies
Some days are tough
And I seem might gruff
But sometimes mama’s head fills up
With work, whining, cleaning, bills
And what spills out might sound rough
But just one giggle, smile or laugh
And I promise your mama will be back
I try so hard to make it seem easy
But dear one you should know
That sometimes all my worries make me quesy
So when I frown and can’t be bothered with your games
Please be gentle, let me breath and know you aren’t to blame.
