Mother’s Day

I’m currently sitting on the couch. I’ve been here over an hour. My son had kicked me hard enough to make me spill my coffee. Sleeping in was cancelled because my dog had to pee. I’ve already got a load of dishes running.

This is my mother’s day. So far.

No breakfast in bed. No brunch with mimosas. No flowers that will rot and stink in a week.

And I’m ok with all of that.

See. Here’s the thing. I’m perfectly content nestled in my spot. I have a book on my armrest and a 7 year old’s foot in my ribs. The dishwasher is actually pretty soothing.

I don’t need to be celebrated or treated like a queen. History has shown what happens to queens and I like my head.

They can celebrate me by being happy, healthy, successful humans. That’s when I will know I did a good job.

Until then, I will read my books, do the laundry, and go grocery shopping. Because even on mother’s day, a mom’s work is never done.

To all the train wreck moms out there, celebrate yourself. You are amazing, wonderful, beautiful humans. And I am proud of you.

Happy mother’s day.

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