Motherhood is hard. Its really, really hard.
Imagine having a job in which your boss NEVER leaves your side. He’s always a half step behind you, asking you what you’re doing or what you’re going to do next or if you have any updates on that project you’ve been working on even though you literally told him 10.8 seconds ago that there had been no change.
Imagine your boss follows you into the bathroom, then touches the toilet, and puts her hands on your face. Then, she requests you cook her lunch. But not the beautifully prepared Pinterest meal you spent time and effort on, she wants a sandwich. Without crust. And with jelly. But not strawberry jelly. Then, when you hand it to her she’ll flip the table over because you cut the sandwich into triangles not squares and the shape of the sandwich is directly correlated to its taste. Basically, triangles are crap and now your sandwich is crap.
Then, your other supervisor makes a gigantic mess in the breakroom. Guess who gets to clean it up? Oh, and you still haven’t had time to sit down at your computer to check emails or make a list of all the things you need to accomplish today because your bosses have keep you busy from the moment you walked in the door. By the time you have a second to breathe and get stuff done, its time to leave.
That’s what motherhood is like.
Now listen, I’m not complaining. (Well, maybe I am a little.) I love my kids. I’m so glad and blessed that I have them and I honestly wouldn’t want my life any other way (though I think I could do with a little less feces and spit up throughout my day). This illustration was just to get you to think. Think about what the moms in your life are going through–especially moms of littles. They’re dealing with tiny dictators that don’t care whether you’re tired or hungry or stressed or PMSing or worried about how you’re going to pay the mortgage. They only think about themselves. And the moms? They’re thinking about them too. Moms carry so much on their shoulders (I know dads do too, but Mother’s Day is this weekend, so back off). They have to keep a record of who ate what, when they ate it, when they last went potty, when they’ll need to go again, whether or not there are diapers/wipes/snacks/sippy cups/change of clothes/a favorite lovey/blanket in the diaper bag and oh, they also need to remember to feed themselves, keep themselves hydrated, and somehow fit all the needs of keeping a household running into their already jam-packed schedule.
All I’m saying is, if you’re lucky enough to still have your mom around, thank her. Thank her for all she has done. And if you see a mom that’s about to lose her ever-loving mind in the middle of Target, go buy her a cake pop or a unicorn frapp from the Starbucks at the front of the store and tell her she’s doing a good job. I guarantee you it will make her feel like a million bucks.