I’m looking for a hole to crawl into and cry.
Allergies are really kicking my but this season.
Deadlines upon deadlines, both coming up and being missed.
Five kids in two different schools, early morning buses to catch.
Homework. Math. Spelling. Somehow becomes my responsibility.
This fall I am a minivan driving: high school drama,
Hip hop, tap, jazz, lyrical, contemporary dance and archery mom.
Husband milking cows or chopping corn around the clock.
Barre and Body Pump classes leaving me barely able to walk.
Grass decided to grow again, thought I was done with mowing.
Birthday parties, festivals, and doctor/dentist/eye appointments going.
Dinner’s never ready, nor are the necessary ingredients on hand.
Stay up too late, get up too late, late again—hope they understand.
I wanna read that book tonight or maybe watch that show
But by the time the kids are in bed I’m too tired.
My blog post is overdue, as are three library books.
Toddler peed the bed, I’m sick of washing sheets.
The kids found my candy stash, I’m actually impressed…
They carried in the groceries, fed the dog, read to the tot(tler).
One smiled at me and asked for a hug, then killed a fly.
Another said I love you mom, you’re pretty.
Two rode bikes outside after doing their homework,
They all let me have a moment of peace!
Thank you for my five cherubs God, I love them to pieces.
Sometimes mom just needs a hole to crawl into (then out of),
Her own tears to dry, a glass of chardonnay in silence, and
To see the beauty in the chaos, the wonder in the hurricane,
A sunset to swoon over, a morning to sleep in,
And choose the path of least resistance, hugs and kisses.
