Get ready for tears Mamas! This beautiful poem was sent to me by a SAL Mama to share with you all... I adore it! x (Its obviously written by an American Mama, but well forgive that :) ) A POEM TO END THE MOMMY WARS written by Kim Simon. Its 10 p.m. in my house, and the kids are both asleep. The tiny one is swaddled, and finally breathing deep. My 4-year-old is tucked in tight, his blanket on his head. Im typing away by the glow of the screen, though my body is pleading for bed. You see its almost midnight, and thats when the games begin. My baby wakes up starving to death, and smiles his gummy grin. I whip out my boob before he can scream, and he curls up on to my chest. I close my eyes and start to drift... I rarely remember the rest. But one things for sure in the dead of the night, when Im nursing by the light of my phone. I stare out the window and I imagine youre there, and I know that Im never alone. So this is your personal invite, to the party that I throw in my head. Its nice to think that theres mamas like me, and that no one is comfy in bed. See, when my baby spits up and it lands in my bra, I know that yours just did the same. You might be in Utah or Kalamazoo, and Ill never discover your name. But youre out there like me, with your babe in your arms, and you pray that he wont make a sound. When you get up to transfer him back to the crib, and his binkie falls onto the ground. His wail fills the air, and you let out a curse, yet Daddy still snores like a train. Moms can get by on just three hours sleep, but The Daddy will always complain. There are millions of mamas like me and like you, who are doing the night-feeding dance. Every three hours we cuddle our babes, even as they blow-out their pants. Theres a dance that we do, all the mamas and I, a dance thats known only to us. Its a sway to the left and a bounce to the right, when the baby is starting to fuss. Its a pace down the hall and a rock in the chair, a song whispered ever so slow. We share the same rituals and bedtime routines, so I think that you already know... That it really wont matter if you bottle it up or if milk sprays right out of your chest. Were all feeding babies with love in our hearts, while praying for a little more rest. So pull out your boobies or measure your scoops, Relax in your comfiest chair. When youre fed up and flustered or just tired and mad, look outside and youll know that were there. You can find us on Facebook when we comment on posts, we put pictures on IG and Twitter. When the babys still up and wont settle back down, weve been known to search Etsy for glitter. The books like to say that the magic will come at 6 months or 9 months for most. But until then, well search for tired mommies like us, who leave comments on Huffington Post. Theres strength in our numbers, the Moms of The Night... Were weary, were hungry, were up till its light. Were hardcore, were shopping, were living the dream. Were slipping, were fading, were ready to scream. Were drowning in onesies and burp rags and toys. Were loving the heck out of our girls and boys. But mamas get tired and pushed to the brink, we leave laundry unfolded and dishes in the sink. So cut us some slack if we still lose our shit, were warriors, were troopers, and weve vowed not to quit. This feeding thing is hard though were doing it well. With nipple shields, pumps, and some lanolin gel. We use formula, breastmilk, bottles and pads. Well do anything possible to nourish our lads. Were the same in the long run, no fighting allowed. Were all doing our best, we deserve to feel proud. Now its almost that time when my oldest wakes up. He needs water, a hug, No, thats not the right cup! And as soon as hes snuggled right back in his bed, the baby wakes up cause he needs to be fed. So Im off to the trenches but Ill see you real soon, Remember the mamas all share the same moon. So swaddle your babies and then raise your glasses, lets cheers to the motherhood kicking our asses. x
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 08:00:00 +0000
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