A Day In The Life Of A Working Mom
Parentous Note: Parenting changes you a lot and you express this change in many ways. Some blog, others write a book while others yell in the bathroom when no one’s listening (just kidding). Anandam Ravi took to writing poems on parenthood. We hope you enjoy reading them at Parentous. Let us know what you think of them!
It’s 6 am, another day begins to dawn,
No time to laze, or stretch, or even yawn,
I have to make endless lunches and snacks,
And find missing books, pencils, backpacks,
It’s time to get the kids up from their slumber deep,
Their sleepy shrieks would make their father weep,
But I am made of much sterner stuff,
I’m a working mom, and I have to be tough.
I rush through the house picking up toys dismembered
Shouting out, helping with homework just remembered –
“Mommy, I forgot this poem had to be learnt.”
“Is the iron on? Something sure smells burned,” –
Husband dear calls out calmly from his tea and newspaper,
No, it’s the stove and the milk is a toxic vapour.
“Ugh! I hate milk,” whines my Princess as I boil some more,
I shove it down her throat and we head out the door.
After a little more last-minute protests and fuss,
Humpty and Princess are inside the school bus,
A whirlwind of cleaning and it’s time to transform
To smart office worker, from bedraggled mom,
I do my reviews and reports, attend endless meetings,
Sort through myriad mails, to-dos, and pings,
And attend client calls – I don’t have a moment to pause,
Until I fall into the car – but wait there’s a call from the boss!
Back home when I think I can’t get stretched any thinner,
I recall that there’s nothing to eat for dinner,
Nothing left over or frozen or stored,
Back to the stove, and the old chopping board,
Time to set down my shiny new laptop bag
And transform back into sweaty old hag,
Finally, the kids are asleep, homework done, problems addressed,
Husband dear walks in and says, “Hold me dear, I’m stressed!”
Anandam’s Bio:
I’m a working mother of two,
Add hubby and work; that makes it four!
Sometimes logic flies out the window
Common sense flies out the door.
But sometimes it’s like a fairy tale
All golden sunshine and laughter
We start at Once Upon a Time
And end in Happily Ever After.
And then it happens, I wake up
And the day starts all over again
Giving rise to all those moments
That inspire my garrulous pen!
Little actions, words, and thoughts
That froth and bubble and lather,
Precious moments and memories
That I carefully collect and gather.
Many of these moments
Disappear in the fog,
Others are captured
Here and in my blog
www.whimsandwhispers.blogspot.in
