On Being A Mother

by Fayemarie Anderson Carter

On being a mother,

had I known it would be such a bother,

As a career,

I might have chosen another.

Hallmark paints it as sweet, giggling babies,

homemade cookies, bedtime stories.

They forgot the puke, the crap, the early morning crazies,

the yelling, the fighting and all the other glories.

I try to follow the advice of the ones with the Ph.D’s,

I swear ’tis true.

I make charts, set boundaries and teach that life has rules.

But three with ADHD, is more than I can do

And I end up just feeling like I’m living in a zoo.

Forgotten homework and unfinished chores galore,

Many days I think, I just can’t handle one thing more.

Then I trip over a rogue shoe, a toy, a gigantic purse ,

And I think to myself, “Just send the friggin’ hearse.”

Bedtime is a struggle , a fight, a war

sometimes, I’m tempted to sleep in the car.

My child wails that she wishes she were dead

to which I just holler,

“Brush your damn teeth and go to your bed!”

And at the end of a long exhausting day,

my child has not listened once again,

’cause there on my clean sheets,

is my angel poo, my pookers, my bug, perfectly splayed.

So, on being a mother,

While it is a GREAT bother,

Looking at their happy faces,

I can be no other.