If Only Moms Could Form a Union…

A bit tired of the usual grind today, I found my motherly self a bit at odds.

Too many “Mo-oms” at once and my head aches.

Do you think moms could form a union?

Ask for overtime?

Demand vacation pay?

Request better health benefits?

Do you think we could rally together and draw up an agreement, the likes of which this world has never seen?

The headlines the next day would read:

Mothers Form Union; Severe Shortage Expected

Could we negotiate disability benefits? Sick pay? A full-blown pension plan?

And the more I thought about it, the more the following agreement developed:

I am a Mom. I get tired, my back hurts, and my legs hurt. My arm aches from packing a fussy baby around most of the day due to immunizations. Actually, let’s just face it: my whole body hurts.

I am a Mom. I specialize in homework, cleaning toilets, and washing dishes.  My laundry piles get conquered (ok, eventually) and my carpet gets vacuumed (once a week, whether it needs it or not. 😉 )

I am a Mom. My voice occasionally raises (ok, more frequently than it should) and my nails are typically unmanicured. My hair gets flat as the day moves on and I have no clue what I look like because the last time I looked in the mirror was backing out of the driveway to drop off a child to practice. (At which glance, I raised my eyebrows and sighed heavily.)

I am a Mom. I love high heels but rarely wear them. I eat pb&j because everyone else is, and…

I get the privilege of creating bathroom privacy.

I am a Mom. I get leaned on, loved on, and kissed on.

I am a Mom. I have the privilege of molding lives.

The privilege of shaping little souls into bigger souls, that influence the world.

I have actually been awarded the opportunity to assist a human being through life for as long as this being has breath.

I have been issued the responsibility of teaching a child to love God.

I have been warranted with the adventure of educating a child to honor and respect authority.

I have been hand chosen by God for my very children.

And though my pay cannot be measured in dollars and my rewards cannot be measured in gold, I don’t need a union.


I am a Mom.

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  1. LOVE this!

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