Looking Out From the Eyes of a Mom

Looking Out From the Eyes of a Mom

One day, I might finally open the laundry room door,
and not find mountains of dirty clothes from ceiling to floor.

Someday, I can look in the mirror and see,
Past the dark circles, frown lines, and crows feet.

On another day, I might be able to solve the mystery,
of where the mates to those lonely socks are hiding from me.

One day, maybe even soon, I will finally see,
what fuss is all about this time that's for "me".

Someday, maybe, I will have the joy of knowing,
what it's like to have hampers not overflowing.

On this day, I know that every mom can understand,
why I listed two laundry complaints, oh they know firsthand!

On a distant day, I could finally begin to plan,
little boy bedtimes without checking for bogeymans.

One day, I will finally beat back those damn dust bunnies,
under furniture, in dark corners, thinking they are funny.

Someday I will know what it really looks like,
to have windows minus sticky prints from little tykes.

On another day, maybe I can climb the top of laundry mountain,
I'll claim these lumpy piles as my own, with a saucy grin.

(Maybe one day, hopefully quite soon, I will be taught,
Don't climb laundry after drinking that bottle of wine that I bought!)

One day I may actually know what it's like to eat,
a HOT meal, sitting down, in my very own seat.

One far away day, I may sleep through every single night,
without sick kids, crying tots, or monsters from scary dream frights.

Some distant day, I will have to explain to people why,
I am so effing weird and why aspirin commercials make me cry.

On that day, I'll simply blame every single thing,
on hormones out of whack from birthing my offspring.

(One day, my own will know how true that really is,
when they've grown WAY up and have their own kids.)

One day, that seems so far away now but is closer than I think,
I'll look at my kids to see that they grew up in a blink.

Some day, they always say, you'll miss these times,
of sticky kisses, boo boos, and mystery wall grime.

(One day, the mystery grime will be known to me,
even if it's clearly a hand print from child number three.)

One day, these kids of mine will still call me mom,
but they'll have their own lives, far from calm.

On another day, they will finally begin to see,
through my eyes, and how fleeting time can be.


P.S. I promise next time I will be back to my sarcastic, eye rolling, sassy self. But for this time, hug those babies a little tighter tonight and be thankful for all of the moments and memories you are giving to them right now. (And stock up on tissues. I wasn't kidding about those commercials.)