Real mothers

My day started off with someone sending me one of those sentimental emails, the ones which depict what most of us mothers experience on a day-to-day basis, or at least have encountered somewhere along the lines. Real Mothers it was called. This real mother is sitting at her desk, taking a mental break long enough to write in her blog about last night's / early morning's events. My head is pounding, my eyes are burning, and I have a now have one more load of clothes to do when I go home.

The message mentions a lot of things that bring a smile and " i can relate" thought to mind. Playdough. I'll be honest, i've never had to pick dried playdough out of a carpet, but do vividly recall it being stuck in the red shag rug that used to adorn the floors of my strawberry shortcake room back in the day. The day being the early to mid-eighties. My brother had a similar set-up; blue shar rug to match cookie monster decor. I do however, know what a mess playdough can make on hardwood floors. What on hardwood you ask? Yes, hardwood, right between the little cracks in the board, the little cracks that are all of about a millimeter wide. Try picking that out with a needle. I couldn't help but send a note back to my friend, as I felt something was obviously missing from the message. It's so fresh in mind, I can still smell it.

Here is the message that was sent to me:

MOTHERS

Real Mothers don't eat quiche; They don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils Are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, Filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough Doesn't come out of carpets.
Real Mothers don't want to know what The vacuum just sucked up...
Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' And get their answer when a littleVoice says, 'Because I love you best.
'Real Mothers know that a child's growth Is not measured by height or years or grade... It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother

Here's what I felt was missing:


Mothers will also cuddle piss-soaked kids in the middle of the night, without a second thought if it means not waking anyone and getting an extra 10 minutes of sleep.. This is after stripping them of their wet jammies and hearing them splat on the floor next to the bed, where they will lay until said mother wakes for the fifth and final time of the morning. Some real mothers would run to the washer in the middle of the night to do a load of laundry. The morning decision then came - does pissy-smelling boy got a bath before breakfast this morning or do wet clothes and sheets got thrown on the deck outside my bedroom patio door. Hope the wind doesn't pick up today.

And that's how my day started. Looking at the bright side, the little guy who didn't know any better cuddled right up to me and we both went back to sleep. Sleep was what I was looking for, cuddles were a bonus, even if he was a bit damp. Of course, I couldn't get to sleep last night, so it was only fitting that it would happen when I'm already overtired!

If someone with no kids dares walk up to me today and tell me about how tired they are I might just bitch slap them into next week.